Black Butler Mal Novels & Stories

Steven says, “She must be avenged” A chubby-looking fellow walks out of the mansion, his black suit conflates with the turquoise mansion wall like a painting as he walks with a formal presence exposing himself as a proud butler. “May I know the reason for your visit, Steven?” he says. Who is this fatso? Philip is curious.

She was shocked to know that he was a temporary entrepreneur as he slides the gate key and swiped it open. "Butler Emanuel? We have a human being over" Michel shouted and placed his hand on the sides of the table. Butler Emanuel came hurriedly and glanced at Erica first then on where Michel was standing.his hair was loose. He looked kind of old but with an average height dressed in black and white suit and white gloves. The room was completely wiped with white crystals everywhere. The Furniture was new. It took a lot of work to build a whole mansion. "Sir, I might not be polite but who is this?" Butler Emanuel said with a soft face.

Dean inquired, curiosity laced in his voice, "you’ve worked for both gangs. Doesn’t that create a conflict for you? If they’re on opposing sides, why would they hire the same person?" The butler’s face broke into a playful smile. "Isn’t it the same for you, Dean?" he replied with a hint of mischief in his tone. Dean was taken aback by the butler’s sharp remark, his face momentarily betraying a hint of embarrassment. Only then did he realize that he, too, was playing the role of someone navigating between two factions. A flicker of guilt stirred in his heart as the implications sank in.

He then took a deep breath. “Not only are you the director of the Flutwell Police Station, but you’re also the second young master of the Torres family. You’ve retired from the legendary Sword Camp as well!” “I wouldn’t dare go against someone like you!” A resentful look appeared on Butler John’s face. “I’ll give up for tonight!” he exclaimed, gritting his teeth. “But I won’t let this end…” Slap! However, Ansel suddenly appeared right in front of Butler John before slapping him across the face.

He was an anomaly for sure. “Well well, what do we have here? A peasant who happens to know of our works?” The white haired man said, crossing his arms and leaning back. The butler took a deep breath to calm himself. The man before him was menacing. “I’m h-here on b-behalf of my m-master.” the butler stuttered out. This caused the white haired man to chuckle. “Sit.” The man behind the desk ordered the butler. The butler hesitated before sitting before the white haired man.

It was impossible but he couldn't stop the tremor of hope that ran through him. "Gimme." He tried not to make the excitement he felt overtake him. He had an image to keep after all. The butler was a tall slim blonde, clean shaven but the greys in his hair showed he was older than he looked. He was groomed neatly too, the well cut black suit he wore hugging his figure nicely. His pristine black shoes seemed to glow in the dark, and his facial expression gave away nothing. He walked gracefully towards Chelsea, a sense of elegance around him. Chelsea wanted to punch his face. He's never punched anybody in his entire life but he was willing to try.

Lycan said coldly, and gave him a slap that sent him sprawled on the floor, he turned around and left with his assistant. Master Celestial inhaled a deep breath, madness flashing in his eyes, “I will kill you, bastard!” he roared angrily but didn't dare to move forward. He saw that the butler was still videoing, and his facial expression changed drastically, “what are you still videoing?” he asked angrily. The butler put away the phone and laughed cheekily, “I am sorry” he apologized. Master Celestial's chest heaves rapidly, and his facial expression is a little ugly when he regained his rationality, “delete it” he told the butler.

"Take a seat. Avoid touching anything that is bright. Hold on, I don't have anything bright.” As he made himself comfy, I made tea because, truly, if this was all a trick, I would at least need the tea to deal with it. That's when I saw a bit of an envelope from his pocket. A card for a wedding. My want to know more grew, but I let him speak first. “So,” I said, setting his cup down, “you’re gonna tell me who you are before I call the cops, right?” The man finally introduced himself. “My name is Elias, Miss. I am the butler of the Blackwood family.”

Never showed mercy. He looks at Kael. Smiles. Missing teeth. "War criminal," he calls. Voice like gravel. "I will make this slow. For the sport." Kael says nothing. His eyes find mine. Gray. Steady. He nods once. I nod back. The signal comes. They shift. Both. Full wolf. Kael is gray. Large. Beautiful. The Butcher is black. Larger. Twisted. Wrong. They circle. The Butcher lunges first. Fast. Too fast. Kael dodges. Barely. Claws rake sand where he stood.

I looked down the hallway and through the other side, and there was actually no one in sight. My heart hammered as I approached the large double office doors with D. BLACKWOOD engraved on the metal plate. I forced my trembling hand to knock. No answer. Great. I knocked again. Still nothing. Screw it. I pushed the door open— —and froze in place. Damian Blackwood sat behind his massive black desk. Sharp suit. Cuffed sleeves. Jaw tight enough to crack a diamond. He didn’t look up at me. Not even a glance. I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by his deep voice.