The More I Invest in My Wives, the Stronger I Become

Chapter 16: That’s My Husband

The morning air outside the selection grounds carried the sharp, biting chill of late autumn, but inside the staging pavilion, the atmosphere was thick enough to choke on.

Daemon stood slightly apart from the rest of Team 33, his posture relaxed in a way that immediately set the team’s self-appointed captain on edge.

He didn’t look like a man about to face a lethal dungeon assessment; he looked like someone waiting for a bus.

His worn jacket contrasted sharply with the high-end, reinforced combat gear worn by the others, a glaring neon sign of his E-Rank status.

Julian Ashford didn’t waste any time. He stepped directly into Daemon’s space, his chest puffed out, face flushed with a mixture of inherited entitlement and genuine disgust.

"Why the hell was an E-Rank allowed in this selection?" Julian snapped, his voice carrying across the quiet assembly area.

"This isn’t fair. Because of you, I’m going to lose points in the first round.

If that happens, I swear I am not going to go easy on you."

Julian didn’t care about the stakes the way others did.

He had already technically secured his placement through three preliminary rounds weeks ago, courtesy of Ashford Construction’s heavy-handed lobbying and government contracts.

Half the city’s skyline existed because of his father’s developments, and Julian treated this entire institutional test as an inconvenient formality—a petty hoop he had to jump through before taking his rightful place at the top.

True to form, he was an arrogant taskmaster who constantly controlled and harassed anyone he deemed weak. Right now, his entire world-view was centered on the bright red ’E’ stamped onto Daemon’s digital registration file.

Daemon, however, didn’t even bother looking at Julian’s face during the tirade. Instead, his gaze drifted past the heir, fixing on the others.

They exchanged subtle, knowing glances that looked almost friendly—a silent acknowledgement of the circus they were trapped in.

According to the World Hunter Association (WHA) regulations, the team roles had been locked in stone before they even stepped foot in the staging zone.

Julian was the designated captain on paper, and Daemon was assigned to his squad, meaning for now, they had to legally accept the grouping.

Before Julian could ramp up his abuse further, a harsh chime echoed across the pavilion.

"Attention candidates," an automated voice boomed overhead. "We are going to begin the first round: the dungeon trial. Take note—if one of your team members fails the test, every single person in that group fails with them."

A sudden, suffocating wave of tension dropped over the assembly.

People flinched, glancing sideways at their partners.

But Julian just let out a sharp, dismissive smirk. Rules like that don’t apply to someone with my name, he thought, adjusting his collar.

A heavy grinding noise shook the floor. The massive steel gates groaned open, revealing the dark, yawning mouths of the allocated sector tunnels.

With a collective surge of nervous energy, the teams moved as one, swallowed up by the darkness of the labyrinth.

Back at the main control and observation deck, Victoria Hale was moving like a storm.

She had already finished her administrative reports with terrifying efficiency, ticking off boxes and delegating tasks to her elite team members before anyone else had even sat down.

The members of Victoria’s Elite Team—Kael, Bastian, Elira, and Sana—were wrapping up their own prep work, casting uneasy glances at their captain.

Everyone was wondering why she was rushing everything today with such manic focus.

The moment she turned toward the exit, Sana Whitlock stepped directly into her path, arms crossed with a knowing, sharp-toothed grin.

"You look different today. Bright. Almost glowing," Sana teased, tilting her head. "What’s happening?"

Victoria let out a long, weary sigh, adjusting the strap of her gauntlet. "I planned today off early. I need to go somewhere."

"Oh, now you’ve definitely changed," Sana laughed, leaning in. "You’re keeping a secret from me? Unforgivable."

Victoria rolled her eyes, trying to mask the sudden heat rising in her cheeks. "What secret could I possibly have?"

"So... is it that man you brought by today?" Sana pressed, her voice dropping to a mischievous whisper. "He was standing so close to you earlier."

The moment those words dropped into the room, the entire elite team froze. Bastian stopped sharpening his blade; Elira paused mid-keystroke on her tactical tablet.

But it was Kael Draven who reacted the worst.

His pulse-sense ability flared, picking up the rapid spike of his own heart rate.

He had spent the entire morning convincing himself that whatever rumors were flying about Victoria and some nameless E-Rank were just administrative charity—that she was merely pitying the weak or helping a stray clear a selection test.

Hearing Sana confirm there was actual smoke behind the fire made his jaw tighten until his teeth ached.

Victoria’s eyes suddenly softened, a distant, involuntary warmth creeping into her expression at the mere thought of Daemon.

Everyone noticed. The silence in the room grew heavy.

"I’ll tell you later," Victoria muttered, sidestepping Sana. "You have to wait."

"Hey—wait!" Sana called out, but Victoria was already striding toward the exit doors, heading straight for the viewing galleries of the selection test. Cursing under her breath with amusement, Sana hurried after her.

Inside the control room, Elira stared after them in absolute disbelief, while Kael’s expression twisted into a dark, ugly scowl.

I have to make my move faster, Kael thought, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists. I might lose Victoria. No... that’s impossible.

She’s mine.

Deep inside the artificial dungeon, the environment shifted into a jagged, suffocating landscape of jagged rock faces and artificial ravines designed to mimic a high-risk subterranean drop.

Team 33 pressed forward in a tight combat formation.

Julian took the lead, flanked closely by Toren Blackwell guarding his rear, Mira Callahan holding the center-left as support, Nessa Vale darting like a ghost on the left flank, and Daemon positioned on the right—effectively treated as dead weight.

Despite being manufactured, the dungeon floor felt terrifyingly real, the air thick with the smell of sulfur and damp earth.

Suddenly, the shadows ahead fractured. A pack of common goblins boiled out from a side cavern—two nimble skirmishers wielding crude daggers, led by a massive brute goblin dragging a jagged, iron-headed battleaxe.

Team 33 snapped into their battle stances.

Julian whipped around, his face contorted in panic and spite as he singled out Daemon.

"Hey, E-Rank!" Julian snarled, pointing a shaking finger. "If you want to survive this round, you better stand there and do absolutely nothing.

It’ll be the best choice you ever make today."

To Julian’s shock, the rest of Team 33 didn’t echo his sentiment.

Toren shifted his weight, quietly stepping to block a flanking angle while shooting Julian a look of pure disgust. Mira offered Daemon an apologetic, sympathetic nod, and Nessa rolled her eyes so hard she nearly tripped over a root.

They were already sick of Julian’s pathetic leadership.

Daemon narrowed his eyes. A low, dangerous hum vibrated through the air around him.

This bastard just keeps talking, Daemon thought, his jaw clenching. I don’t know how much longer I can keep my control before I break his teeth.

But I can’t afford a scandal. I can’t create problems for Victoria.

The battle erupted. Toren, Nessa, and Mira engaged the two skirmishers, moving with practiced coordination.

True to his word, Julian hung back, barking useless orders while swinging his blade at empty air.

Daemon simply stood there, hands in his pockets, refusing to lift a finger—while the massive brute goblin held back, sizing up the group, waiting for an opening.

Seeing that the skirmishers were being handled, Julian turned back and spotted Daemon standing completely idle. A malicious grin spread across his face.

"Well, look at mr. E!" Julian mocked, loud enough for the whole team to hear. "This is your chance! At least prove you’re worthy of carrying a bag in a dungeon!"

Mira and Toren both shouted at Julian to shut his mouth, but the arrogant heir was entirely high on his own supply.

That was the breaking point.

A chilling, predatory smile crept across Daemon’s face.

Without a single word, he calmly stepped past Julian, his movements smooth, casual, and utterly terrifying.

The brute goblin, sensing the sudden shift in atmospheric pressure, roared and charged forward, raising its heavy iron axe high above its head to cleave Daemon in two.

"Inferno blast," Daemon muttered softly.

Before the word had even finished echoing off the cave walls, a blinding crack of blue-white energy tore through the space.

Thunderstep.

The world flashed. To the rest of Team 33, Daemon didn’t run—he simply vanished, leaving behind a shockwave that shattered the loose stone beneath his boots.

A violent mixture of roaring fire and concussive thunder materialized in a fraction of a second, striking the brute goblin dead-center.

Daemon’s fist connected with the creature’s chest wrapped in liquid plasma and kinetic fury.

There was no struggle. The brute goblin didn’t just die—it detonated.

Its massive body blasted instantly into a shower of charred, smoking pieces, painting the cavern walls in ash and soot.

Silence slammed back down onto the tunnel.

Team 33 stood frozen, their jaws hanging open so wide they could have swallowed the cavern dust.

They stared at the empty space where a towering monster had stood a second ago, trying to process the lingering smell of ozone and burnt flesh.

They hadn’t seen a physical blow land; they had only witnessed a ghost of lightning and fire tear reality apart.

Julian stared in absolute, unadulterated disbelief, his face draining of all color, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Miles away, in the high-security observation and control room, Victoria Hale stood glued to the audio-visual feed.

She had heard every single miserable word of Julian’s arrogant rant leading up to the ambush—and she had watched every millisecond of Daemon’s effortless, devastating display of power.

Throwing her head back, Victoria burst into bright, unfiltered laughter that echoed off the control room walls.

"That’s my husband," she whispered, a fierce, glowing pride shining in her eyes.