The Demonic Patriarch(not sure when next upload is?)

The sky was deep blue and vast like an ocean and the sun was scorching.

A lean little girl dressed in filthy rags sat beside a street vendor, munching jadedly on a slice of bread. After a while, she stopped chewing and glanced down at the slice of bread in her hands with a troubled look.

"I have remained here and scoured the streets only surviving on this bread. Now, my bread is virtually exhausted. I might die now," the girl muttered nonchalantly, her poised raven-black eyes silently scrutinizing the discolored bread. It would be good if she could afford some fruit or butter to take with her bread, she thought fleetingly.

As though to answer her wishes, however, she noticed a lavishly-adorned fat old uncle treading down the damp and crowded lane. His face was a big chunk of meat.

Whenever the man trudged through the moist lanes, his stomach would bob up and down rhythmically like jelly. His eyes appeared remarkably tiny. The plump uncle also had a crooked set of brownish-white teeth with several golden dentures.

What caught her attention about this chubby old uncle was not his appearance, however, but his lack of company. Moneyed townspeople would frequently have escorts or bodyguards at their beck and call, therefore making it difficult for pick-pockets and felons like her to have their way. But this uncle was different; no entourage, no maids or manservants either. This made him the perfect target. Poor guy; who told him to gallivant unguarded? Now she had to rob him~

"Quite odd," she had thought briefly amidst her many deliberations. Her eyes covertly scanned her target like a predator studying its prey.

Out of caution, the young girl would take her time to size up her prey before taking action. And this particular target appeared too...unguarded. How should she put it? He was too flawlessly imperfect. He did not even have a weapon to defend himself with, as most gentlemen obsessed themselves with having. Or was he just another idiot? Arching a brow, she eventually shrugged and brushed her thoughts away.

This time, the young girl was impatient. Her heart was beating faster than usual and the blood in her veins was boiling from excitement. This was her normal reaction before starting a pursuit. A deep redness flushed into her pale cheeks before disappearing as her face was clouded by austerity.

The stout man was gradually vanishing into the sea of blackness created by merchants and clients. At last, the girl's small, immobile body that was leaning against a pillar, moved. Her frail body that appeared to lack power and stamina stood up to its full height that was only a little below an average man's chest. Looking at her delicate silhouette from behind struck the impression of a great general rigidly entering the battlefield.

The young girl limped slowly but steadily to her anticipated destination. She looked miserable and no one paid her any mind. This was to her benefit. She was not one to stoop so low as to beg for food and hurl away her dignity in the process. She would take matters into her own hands, like a true soldier.

Despite her slow pace, it did not take long for her to halt her footsteps in contentment. She had estimated—the man, upon reaching where she stood, would either bypass her or order her to get out of his way. This was only normal.

Either of the two was good for her as her plan would best be accomplished if they progressed in either manner.

She had her cards set on the table. Now all she had to do was wait. She froze into her crestfallen and unmoving posture and passers-by naturally avoided her, presuming that it was yet another beggar trying to attract sponsors. To them, such degenerates were a dime a dozen, and you could even find them brazenly sprawled in front of manors, rags, and all. But if they were to look closely at the girl's face, they would notice the odd sheen of sweat coating her forehead and the abyss in her eyes that pulled you in.

What she was awaiting - the moment when the man snapped at her - was yet to come. It was not coming at all.

Finally, the young girl lifted her small head of long black hair that tumbled past her thin waist. The sight that met her was the vast crowds circling a specific section of the street. It was a rather wide street and many popular restaurants and stores were lining the road thus making the spot a hubbub of activities.

Therefore, seeing so many people converge into one place was quite a sight. Out of pure curiosity, more and more people gathered around.

The young girl though was not interested. Her eyes were busy searching the people for her marked target such that she did not notice the group of wealthy young masters and mistresses who were striding her way, also unaware of her presence.

The group of young nobles walked with arrogant strides. There were around five of them, and it was clear from their animated conversation that the young man in the middle was considered highly.

As they walked and chatted simultaneously, one of them, a silent-looking girl, tsk-ed upon noticing the young girl standing few meters away. However, she did not bother with informing the others. Consequently, the young girl was cruelly shoved forward by them.

The small girl staggered backwards a bit but did not fall which was a surprise as her body appeared so fragile and delicate.

She halted and looked up, making eye contact with a tall young man dressed gaily in the finest silk and satin and bejeweled in rubies and sapphires. This person was quite handsome and the jewelry did not make him appear gaudy or OTT. To his left and right were attractive young men and women, each not sparing the eye from their luxury and good looks.

The handsome young man in the middle was now gazing at the scrawny little girl who stood in his path. He had refined features, a high nose bridge, and thin, seductive lips. The orphaned little girl seemed so small and neglectable as compared to him.

He had no expression on his face. His deep-set black eyes narrowed dangerously as he spoke, "Get out of my way." His cold words were simple and concise.

The young girl did not spare him a second glance. She scampered away and, in the eyes of onlookers, it appeared as though she was running away in fear. The young man glanced at her retreating back with a cold sneer before fixating his gaze on the girl who was at the edge of the group. This girl had short dark brown hair that was combed tidily and furbished with a red ribbon at her temple. Unlike the young man, she had little jewelry and even less emotion on her face, but she was still very appealing and cute.

The other young nobles beside the young man laughed mockingly but the brunette girl remained silent. Her eyes shifted to the orphan's back with interest, watching her until her figure had disappeared down the lane. Her thoughts were unknown. The handsome young noble narrowed his eyes.

...

The young girl was ecstatic. Indeed, she had failed to rob the stout uncle but had gotten something much, much better! And of course, a few giggles from a bunch of teenagers she barely knew would not sour her mood.

She continued speeding through the clammy streets until she arrived at a dark alley where she slowed down and walked deeper inside, a rare smile growing on her face. She ignored the pain in her bare feet and ambled uncaringly with wide strides. Her mind was racing with enthusiasm as she shuddered and mumbled softly,

"It's been so long but...at last..." Her words disappeared behind the sound of a train rushing in the distance, pitch-black smoke surging from its smokestack.

She had walked deep enough to arrive in front of an old, worn-out wooden door.

The girl fumbled around her tattered clothes before producing a rusty bronze key. A small smile returned to her pale, withered lips as she inserted the key into the keyhole and turned it, the door creaking open in tandem.

Before fully penetrating the door, the girl looked around discreetly, not wanting any curious eyes spying on her before she quickly slipped into the room and locked the door shut behind her. Her movements were incredibly lithe, resembling serpentine locomotion.

The room was hushed and dark. The stygian darkness loomed ominously in the air hugging her slight body with gradual vehemence. After tracing her fingertips over the warm walls, she pressed a hidden partition and a mechanical sound rang vaguely. It was the sound of cogs turning.