NOVEL NEXT Chapter 114: Peak Emotional Damage!
Meanwhile, the guys who admired Sophie, essentially every male recruit, swallowed hard, their throats burning as jealousy twisted inside their chests like knives. They had fantasized about talking to her, impressing her, maybe earning a small smile.
Now they watched her melt into Bruce's arms like she'd been waiting for him all her life.
But none of them could say a word. None of them dared to.
After witnessing Bruce's brutality, his monstrous strength, his suffocating aura, the aura that still haunted them, they understood something painfully clear:
Sophie wasn't with him by accident. She wasn't charmed. She wasn't tricked. She chose him.
Because Bruce Ackerman was simply on another level entirely.
The only one who could have remotely competed was Ozai… and even he had been humiliated, crushed into the dirt earlier. He stayed near the back of the lobby now, face pale, stomach twisting at the memory of his death. The very thought of facing Sophie again, with her knowing exactly how pathetically he died, made bile rise in his throat. It would be the most shameful moment of his entire existence.
As for the girls… Even the ones Bruce had slaughtered couldn't deny the truth.
Jealousy stung beneath their skin like bitter frost. They were envious, of the way Sophie looked at him, of the softness she showed, of the warmth in her touch, of the quiet connection between them. A connection none of them could replicate no matter how beautiful, how strong, or how skilled they became.
Because deep down, they knew a truth they hated to admit:
They could never match Sophie Reign. Not her beauty. Not her presence. Not the effortless grace with which she stood beside Bruce, as if she belonged there. As if she had always belonged there.
And then, Sophie tilted her head slightly as she leaned closely...
....
"Don't tell me they're about to do it…" Ozai's voice cracked like thin glass.
The thought struck him like a spear to the chest. And he wasn't alone.
Every guy in the lobby, even the ones who pretended they didn't care, felt the same crushing ache spread through their ribs, as if a giant hand had squeezed their hearts. Some staggered. Some grabbed their hair. Some simply stared, hollow and broken, their expressions drained of all light.
It was emotional damage delivered on a cosmic scale.
And none of them could look away.
They could only watch, helpless, frozen, suffering, as the scene on the glowing screen unfolded before them.
Sophie stepped closer to Bruce.
The shift was subtle but devastating. Her eyes softened; her fingers rose to his jaw with a tenderness that felt too intimate for public eyes. Her hand cupped his cheek delicately, reverently, as though she was touching something precious.
And then she leaned in.
Slowly. Deliberately. With the calm certainty of someone who had made this decision long before the trial began.
Her lips met his.
The kiss was soft at first, gentle, warm, almost reverent in its sincerity. But then Bruce's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer, and Sophie's breath trembled against his mouth as she deepened the kiss. Her other hand slid up to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair as she tilted her head, molding herself ever more closely to him.
Their lips moved in a slow, intimate rhythm, an unhurried dance of emotion and connection. No urgency. No awkwardness. Just something deep, unspoken, fiercely genuine. The world around them seemed to dissolve, the trial forgotten, the danger irrelevant. It felt as if reality itself stepped aside to give them space.
Bruce kissed her back with quiet intensity, steady, controlled, but undeniably passionate. His embrace was firm yet gentle, as though he was holding someone irreplaceable. Their breaths mingled softly. Sophie let out the faintest exhale against his lips, a delicate sound of vulnerability and affection, not lust.
Her body softened into him completely, trusting him without hesitation.
And Bruce held her as if she was something precious.
When they finally parted, Sophie's forehead rested against his, their breaths brushing softly against each other.
"Bruce…" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You have no idea… how long I wanted to do that."
Bruce brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek, his smile faint and warm.
"I knew," he murmured. "I felt it every time you looked at me."
She laughed softly, her eyes shimmering. "You really are impossible…"
But her tone carried nothing but warmth, the warmth of a woman deeply, quietly in love.
Bruce let his hand cradle her cheek.
"And you," he said, "are perfect."
Sophie's lips curved into a smile that melted the frost around them. She leaned in and placed a smaller, softer kiss at the corner of his mouth, slow, affectionate, claiming.
"You too," she whispered. "You too, Bruce… You don't know how happy I am right now."
"I do," Bruce replied quietly.
Meanwhile, in the real-world lobby, the silence shattered into silent chaos.
Jealousy. Heartbreak. Shock. The mixture was so intense several recruits looked physically ill.
Ozai clutched his head in both hands, eyes wide and unfocused. "No… no way… They actually… kissed…?"
Some male recruits turned away, chest burning as though stabbed. Others collapsed back into their chairs, defeated and pale.
"That's it… We lost…"
"She's gone…"
"Sophie Reign… actually kissed him like that… in the trial…"
Chaos! Absolute emotional devastation!
One guy dropped to his knees like a broken puppet.
Another slapped his own face repeatedly as if trying to wake up from a nightmare.
A third stared blankly at the ceiling whispering, "Why am I still alive… just kill me again…"
Ozai looked like he had aged ten years.
Dominic placed a hand on his chest, wincing as if physically stabbed.
Aria stood frozen, her mouth parted slightly, unable to comprehend the sight before her. Even Jean, cool, composed Jean, had to avert her gaze for a moment, her jaw tightening in a rare slip of emotion.
Average Joe whispered, voice cracking,
"This is... this is worse than being killed."
Another muttered, "This is peak suffering..."
A recruit clutched his skull. "HOW is this fair…? How are we watching them be romantic after he murdered all of us...?!"
Another hissed, "Bro is showing affection in the SAME TRIAL where he gave me PTSD."
Someone in the corner sobbed quietly. "I... I want to go home."
"It should've been me, not him!!"
...
A/N:
Their reactions are a bit funny... Also, I have a question to ask.
In the future, when Bruce and Sophie eventually have their moment... should I actually write the sex scene, or should I skip that part?
It won't happen now, but it will happen later.
And your opinions will shape the romantic route of this novel. Don't worry, I'm good at writing those scenes, and I'll make sure it doesn't disrupt the plot at all. In fact, it'll be an interesting addition.
So what do you guys think?