Novel & Cerita Human Cross Sans

“Thank you for coming into my life.” Kingsley smiled gently. “Rest now. You need it.” She was so exhausted that she fell asleep almost immediately. Once she was asleep, Kingsley finally allowed himself to breathe. But now that the adrenaline had faded, the pain in his hands became unbearable. The knife had cut deeply into his palms. He quietly treated the wounds himself. Then his mind drifted back to the stick. I hope he survives that, he thought uneasily. My baby and I can’t afford to become killers twice.

Ronan said with the casual cruelty of someone who saw women as interchangeable commodities. "I'll be there in thirty minutes," Cross said, already mentally checking out of the conversation. He ended the call and moved toward the wardrobe. He pulled out a simple black shirt and dark jeans, clothes that would let him disappear into the night without drawing attention. As he changed, Marceline found herself watching the familiar routine, the way he folded his discarded clothes with military precision, the way he checked his reflection once in the mirror by habit rather than vanity. Cross picked up his car keys and walked toward where Marceline still stood by the door, her body language suggesti

Hunter vent out his wrath on the punching bag but the poor thing couldn't absorb his rage, with a solid punch the chains snapped and the punching bag fell a few feet away from him as only the dangling chain remained. Hunter straightened up. Not finding the towel around, he yanked his shirt off before wiping the sweat on his body with it. His eyes fell on his knuckles, they were red. He didn't realize he was going bare handed but it didn't matter because he could still feel like spilling some blood. Especially of that innocent-faced witch who fooled him. With a clenched jaw, he stomped out of there. Hunter didn't realize but he was emitting a dark powerful aura that almost suffocated the trai

AVA Without another word, Hunter moves swiftly away from the lockers, passing by his two friends whose names I'm guessing are Preston and Gomorey. They had been gawking at Hunter with a mischievous grin playing on their lips, and Hunter didn't waste a chance to shoot them both with his penetrating glare. I noticed their pupils retrench as they stared at him, meaning they were conversing with each other through mindlink. It was brief, lasting a couple of seconds before Hunter turns left and straight down the now-empty halls.

I stepped into it, and in the mirror, I didn’t see the girl chasing Nathan Cross. I saw the woman standing beside him. The price? $24,500. I didn’t blink. I walked to the counter, head high. The clerk didn’t bother hiding her skepticism—her eyes dipped to my sandals, then flicked to my face. “I’ll take it,” I said. Her smile stretched. Fake. Patronizing. “Mr. Cross must approve all charges. Surely you understand.” I didn’t flinch. Just slid the Centurion card across the counter. Aeternum Cross. My name—Lana Reyes—engraved in silver.

“At least enough to stand on your own. You think you can walk away empty-handed and he won’t find another way to come after you? That’s not how men like Ares operate.” Susan says what I have been scared to say out loud or think of. Of a truth, I need his money as much as I wish I didn't. Silence falls for a moment, broken only by the hum of Sloane’s refrigerator. I close my eyes and lean back into the chair, feeling like the walls are inching closer. “What do we do?” My voice thins. Susan sits across from me, folding her hands. “We need leverage. I have contacts who can help us, but nothing is free. It will take money. And access.”

I knocked once and went in anyway. Xena was in the chair by the window. Cross was sitting up against the pillows, color better than the night before, the bruising along his jaw gone from black to a dull yellow-green. He looked at me the way men in his condition didn't usually have the strength to look at anyone, like he'd been saving the energy for exactly this. "Mr. Yale." "Mr. Cross." Xena didn't say anything. She watched me cross the room, probably deciding later what to do with what she'd seen.

The moonlight caught his sharp features, piercing gray eyes, dark hair slicked back, and a smile that seemed carved from equal parts charm and malice. “Still trying to control what he can’t keep,” the man added, his gaze flicking toward the ballroom doors as if he could see through them. Amara frowned, bristling at the intrusion. “Do I know you?” “No,” he said smoothly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his tailored suit. “But I know him.” He extended a hand, though the gesture felt less like an introduction and more like a test. “Damian Cross. An old friend of Adrian’s… or enemy, depending on who you ask.”

Kross didn't stay down. Blood Berserk's second stage triggered when demon blood touched ground. His skin cracked. Red steam came out. His eyes went full white. He stood, axe still in hand, but now his body was 4 meters. Horns longer. [ Kross: S-Rank -> S-Rank Berserk Mode - Strength +50%, Defense +50%, Pain 0% ] Academy students screamed. Even A-Rank Class Leaders stood up. "Jin! Dodge! That's not S-Rank! That's S+ power for 30 seconds!" Leon shouted from wall, voice breaking.

He took down more than a dozen of my men…" "…in a very short time." Silence. "Do you think that's something an ordinary man can do?" Renan froze. Something clicked. Fatty continued. "His surname is Cross..." "And he's extremely skilled in combat." "I suspect..." "That he is a member of the Cross family in Solene City" "And holds a high position to have developed such excellent military skills at a young age." Renan's face turned pale. His mind raced. He knew Fatty's men.