Chapter 432 Survey
Riley felt neither disgust nor satisfaction toward the business taking place here, nor did he feel the need to stain his hands with the slave master’s blood.
He knew better than most that the fat man had not been the cause of the wars that ravaged the land, nor the plagues of hunger that had swept through the region.
He was merely a parasite feeding on the aftermath—profiting from misery left behind by forces far greater than himself.
And yet, Riley understood another uncomfortable truth.
Without men like him, many of the caged souls would have already perished in alleyways, their bodies left to rot, unnoticed and unnamed.
Life was cruel, and every person played a role within its vast, merciless design.
Riley had long since accepted this reality, even if he did not condone it.
With those thoughts settled, he turned toward the cage.
Riley reached out and wrapped his fingers around the iron lock.
There was no flare of power, no ripple of energy, no sign that he was exerting anything beyond simple physical strength.
To the onlookers, it appeared as though he was relying on nothing more than the strength of an ordinary man.
Clang!
The lock gave way with a sharp, metallic cry as it was forcibly torn apart and dropped to the ground.
The sound echoed down the street like a hammer striking an anvil.
Gasps erupted from the gathered crowd. Several people stumbled backward in shock.
The fat slave master’s face drained of color. He knew exactly how strong that lock was.
He had commissioned it himself—thick iron, reinforced to withstand desperate struggles.
And yet Riley had pried it open as effortlessly as one might break a brittle twig.
The cage door creaked open slowly.
Inside, the little girl screamed softly and recoiled in terror.
She scrambled backward, pressing herself into the corner, her small body trembling violently as tears streamed down her dirty cheeks.
Her thin arms wrapped around her knees as she shook her head in panic.
"N-No... please... don’t..." she whispered, her voice so faint it was barely audible.
Riley immediately knelt down, lowering himself until his eyes were level with hers.
The cold, imposing aura he had projected moments ago vanished completely.
In its place was a calm, steady presence—one meant to reassure, not dominate.
"It’s alright," he said softly. "I’m not here to hurt you."
He made no sudden movements.
Instead, he extended his hand slowly, palm open, giving her all the time she needed.
"I’m going to take you away from this horrible place," Riley continued gently.
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere you won’t have to be afraid anymore."
He paused, his gaze kind and unwavering.
"Do you want that, little one?"
The girl lifted her tear-filled eyes and looked at Riley’s handsome face.
There was something calm and reassuring in his expression—something she had not seen in a very long time.
Slowly, hesitantly, she nodded.
The fear in her eyes lingered, but her sobbing weakened until it finally stopped.
She reached out with trembling hands, as if afraid he might disappear if she hesitated for too long.
Riley did not rush her.
When she finally leaned toward him, he gently lifted her from the cold wooden cage, supporting her frail body as though she weighed nothing at all.
Without a word, he turned and carried her out of the savage human store, leaving behind the stench, the chains, and the inhuman cruelty that filled the place.
As he walked, Riley glanced down at the girl in his arms.
She was about the same age as his sons in this world, and the realization stirred something deep within him.
He knew, without doubt, that he could take care of her.
With the wealth, influence, and foundation he had painstakingly built during his years in White Bone City, she would never have to suffer like this again.
By the time he arrived at his mansion, the girl had grown quiet, exhausted from fear and tears.
The gates opened, and servants froze as Riley stepped inside.
Every gaze landed on him—and then shifted to the dirty, trembling little girl cradled in his arms.
Her clothes were torn, her skin smeared with grime, and her hair hung in tangled clumps.
Sarah, Ivy, and Grace were present as well.
The three had grown into beautiful, sexy twenty-one-year-old women, their figures graceful and their expressions sharp with curiosity and concern as they took in the scene before them.
Riley called out to them and carefully handed the girl over, making sure she was properly supported before letting go.
"Clean her up and bathe her," he said calmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"She will be an important part of this household in the future."
The three maidservants exchanged brief glances, then nodded together.
"Leave it to us, Master," they said in unison.
With gentle hands and reassuring smiles, they led the girl away, already speaking softly to her as they disappeared down the corridor, intent on carrying out Riley’s orders without delay.
Later that day, the girl was brought to the dining hall and seated at the long table alongside the rest of the household.
It was only then that everyone finally learned her name—Valery.
Riley had already spoken to his wives, Monique and Evelyn, about her earlier, explaining where she came from and why he had brought her home.
Though they had accepted the decision without protest, the same could not yet be said for his two children.
Valery sat quietly, her back stiff and her hands folded in her lap.
She kept her head lowered, clearly unsure of where to look or what to say, as if a single wrong move might send her back to the place she had come from.
Dale glanced between his father and the unfamiliar girl, his curiosity eventually overcoming his hesitation.
"Who’s she, Father?" he asked innocently, his voice clear and unguarded.
Francis did not speak immediately.
He studied Valery more closely—the way she avoided eye contact, the way her shoulders trembled ever so slightly.
After a moment, he turned to Riley with a more thoughtful expression.
"Is she your child from another woman, Father?" Francis asked, choosing his words carefully.
The question hung in the air for a brief moment before Riley broke into warm, hearty laughter.
His amusement carried no malice, only ease, as though the tension at the table were something he could simply brush aside.
"Yes," he said, smiling broadly. "You could say that."
Riley’s gaze moved from his sons to Valery, lingering on her small frame before returning to the table.
"From now on, Valery will live with us," he continued calmly. "I want you both to help her and treat her kindly. After all, she is my daughter from another woman. That makes her your sister from today onward."
Dale’s eyes widened, surprised but not displeased. Francis remained quiet, though the stiffness in his posture eased slightly.
Riley chuckled again, then raised his hand lightly.
"Enough talk. Let’s eat."
Servants began serving the dishes, one after another, until the table was filled with fragrant, steaming food.
Valery stared at the spread in disbelief. She had seen food before, of course—but never like this.
Never so much, never placed so freely before her.
She did not move at first, waiting as if for permission.
Only after she noticed everyone else begin eating did she reach out hesitantly.
The moment she tasted the food, her eyes widened in shock.
The flavors overwhelmed her senses, and before she realized it, she was eating quickly, almost desperately, afraid that if she slowed down it would all be taken away.
Laughter and light conversation filled the room, but soon a quiet, broken sound slipped through the noise.
Tears began to stream down Valery’s thin cheeks, dripping onto the table as she continued to eat.
She did not wipe them away. She did not stop.
No one scolded her. No one stared.
Monique and Evelyn exchanged gentle glances but said nothing.
Riley watched her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before turning back to his meal.
For Valery, this was the first time she had eaten without fear—at a warm table, surrounded by people, with no chains in sight.
Riley watched the scene unfold with a faint, knowing smile on his face.
To anyone else, Valery was nothing more than a quiet, traumatized child slowly adjusting to a new life. But Riley knew better.
It was obvious to him that she had not yet recovered her past memories—the experiences, knowledge, and power that were still sealed deep within her.
For now, she was harmless, fragile, and unaware of her true value.
And that was precisely why this moment was so important.
Riley was not impatient. He understood that some things could not be rushed.
When the time was right, when Valery’s memories finally resurfaced, everything would change.
That day would not only mark her awakening, but also the beginning of his own great return.
With her restored memories would come opportunities long thought unreachable—connections, secrets, and paths that had been closed to him for far too long.
And through her, Riley would finally gain his long-awaited entry into the cultivation world of this realm, stepping onto a path he had been preparing for in silence.
Until then, he would wait.
He would protect her, nurture her, and allow fate to move at its own pace—fully confident that when the moment arrived, the rewards would far exceed the patience he had invested.