Molly’s eyes narrowed as she turned to face Flynn, making sure he couldn’t keep staring at her.
“Ahem, your movements are corrected for the most part. Remember to practice regularly-it’s hard to change bad habits once they’re formed,” Flynn said, coughing awkwardly. He clasped his hands behind his back and gazed into the distance, doing his best to look like a dignified Martial Arts Grandmaster.
Molly scoffed inwardly. He’s not wrong-some habits are hard to break. Like his shameless habit of letting his eyes wander!
“This guy probably aced his puberty course,” she muttered to herself.
She finished her routine, centering her energy in her dantian, relaxing her entire body, and breathing deeply with her eyes closed.
As her breathing steadied, her chest rose and fell rhythmically-at times standing firm like lofty peaks, and at others hanging delicately like stalactites. It was mesmerizing.
Thankfully, the quality of her shirt buttons held up; otherwise, at least a few would have popped off.
“Phew…”
Molly finally adjusted her breath and smoothed out her internal energy. But as soon as she opened her eyes, she caught Flynn staring at her chest.
Fury welled up in her. Suddenly, she felt like Flynn’s private training sessions had a much darker purpose. Clearly, his intentions weren’t pure at all.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Flynn said, hastily covering up his guilt. “I was just thinking your shirt seems a little tight. Next time, wear something looser-it’ll help with the fluidity of your movements.”
His ability to lie with a straight face was unparalleled.
Molly squinted at him, her lips curling into a cold smile. “Sure, next time I’ll wear a bigger tracksuit. Something with a loose collar and a high zipper.”
Flynn froze. This girl is way too clever-hard to fool.
“That won’t be necessary,” Flynn replied after a brief pause. “You’ll need some freedom of movement around the neck. Certain techniques require engaging all your muscles, and tight clothing can be restrictive.”
He spoke seriously, but inside, he was cursing himself for bringing it up in the first place.
Molly let out a soft hum, her smile laced with sarcasm. Her eyes seemed to say, “As if I’d believe you, you shameless scoundrel.”
Flynn shrugged, pretending not to care. “Let’s go. Back to the house.”
“Back to the house?” Molly hesitated, a hint of wariness flashing in her eyes. She didn’t move.
It was her first time at Thodell Mansion, and she had been stunned by the grandeur when she arrived.
She hadn’t expected Flynn to be so close with General Cruz, who had gifted him this opulent property worth tens of millions of dollars.
Even though Molly was born into the wealthy and prestigious George family, with her maternal grandfather’s family holding the top rank in Shipmeda State, this level of luxury still left her in awe.
The mansion was massive, more like a palace.
She wanted to explore more, but considering the late hour and the fact they were alone, it didn’t seem appropriate.
“I was planning to write a new formula for Aetherium Dust. Join me if you want,” Flynn said casually, glancing at her before heading toward the mansion’s entrance.
“Aetherium Dust? The ancient recipe that went missing last time?” Molly’s excitement flared, and she quickly followed him.
“I’ll write up a new formula for you, with a few additional ingredients this time. The effect will be even stronger-after taking it for four or five days, it’ll condition your body to the level of a Grandmaster. Then I’ll open your meridians and help you break through to that level.”
“However,” he added, “this medicine has some side effects. Depending on your physique, you might experience different symptoms.”
“But don’t worry too much. Once you achieve a Grandmaster’s physique, the symptoms will naturally disappear.”
Flynn opened the front door and tossed these words over his shoulder before heading upstairs to find paper and a pen.
“This place is enormous. General Cruz really knows how to live,” Molly murmured as she stepped into the grand living room, its soaring ceiling over seven meters high. A massive crystal chandelier hung above, bathing the room in a brilliant glow.
She couldn’t help but sigh.
She still remembered the first time she met Flynn. Back at the Swanson Group Estate, they had fought fiercely, and she’d mocked him for being a coward who abandoned Rose to save himself.
But she had to admit, this man had real skills and terrifying connections. General Cruz alone was impressive, but even Tobias Turgenev seemed to owe him favors.
Still, Flynn had plenty of flaws. He was temperamental, reckless, and stubborn. He acted on a whim, disregarding anyone else’s opinions.
He walked through life as if he were the king of the world, doing whatever suited his mood.
But in Ostrad, where martial arts reigned supreme, Flynn’s behavior would only take him so far. While he might thrive in Niarak, the wider world was a different story. Sooner or later, his arrogance would cost him.
Molly had trained with her master for years and had seen countless prodigies. Most of them had paid a heavy price for their hubris.
Take Zion, for example. Flynn was constantly talking about keeping Harriet Hamilton in Niarak. Did he think Lysander King wouldn’t be furious?
Lysander knew plenty of martial artists. His son-in-law, Stellan Wallace, was a Great Grandmaster, and his father-in-law had recently broken through to the Lesser Sovereign realm.
Flynn’s reckless remarks were practically asking for trouble.
Even Molly’s grandfather had to give Lysander King some respect.
Lost in thought, Molly walked into the bathroom to wash her hands.
She pressed the pump on a nearby lotion bottle but felt something slick instead of soapy.
“Massage oil?” Molly muttered, staring at the half-empty bottle.
Her gaze shifted to the large circular bathtub nearby.
On the floor was a blue yoga mat covered in the same greasy substance.
The color and texture matched what was on her hands.
“What’s going on here… Wait a second! He and Scarlet… Are you kidding me?!”
Her eyes fell on a black lingerie set draped over the edge of the bathtub.
It was made of a few thin straps, leaving very little to the imagination.
The further down her gaze traveled, the narrower the fabric got.
It was clearly a woman’s.
The lingerie was also soaked in massage oil, wet and glistening.
Molly’s mind conjured an image so vivid and suggestive that her cheeks instantly turned red. Goosebumps prickled her skin.
Back in the Alwood Mountains, her older sister had been rather wild. When they were close, her sister often shared risque jokes.
To be honest, when it came to being provocative, women could outdo men any day. With their natural allure and playful teasing, they were in a league of their own.
Molly had heard plenty of explicit things from her sister and knew exactly how massage oil could be used for… other purposes.
Now, having stumbled upon what looked like evidence of a “crime scene” in Flynn’s home, her face burned with embarrassment.
She hurriedly wiped the oil off her hands and bolted out of the bathroom.
Unfortunately, she ran straight into Flynn, who was walking past the door.
Molly’s ample chest, soft and full of elasticity, collided with Flynn’s torso. The impact sent her body tilting backward.
Flynn reacted quickly, stepping forward and catching her around the waist.
Molly’s legs bent as her knees, stomach, and head formed a straight line parallel to the floor. With the only point of support being Flynn’s hand on her waist, her head continued to dip toward the ground.
Flynn tried to steady her by reaching for her shoulder, but at that moment, Molly’s shirt gave way.
The strain on her buttons proved too much, and three of them popped off, leaving her neckline wide open.
A pink bra came into view, but it seemed either the bra was too small, or her chest was too large-it barely covered half of her, exposing a generous expanse of creamy, smooth skin.
To make matters worse, Flynn’s face was only a few inches away from her chest as he leaned forward to catch her.
For a moment, the scent of youth filled the air, and time seemed to freeze.