Chapter 57 - An alternative

A few minutes later, Alita was sitting cross-legged on the bed with her back to Damian… and her expression was one of extreme disbelief. "How the hell did it even get to this…?" she muttered to herself with twitching eyebrows. 

Behind her, Damian was whistling lazily as he carefully braided Alita's soft blue hair. He hadn't lied about doing this for Lilith on several occasions, so not only was he quite proficient, but when combined with the usage of myst, he could actually have this done in a mere few minutes. 

Not that he did. After all, the longer this took, the more his relationship with Alita grew. She didn't feel as comfortable and relaxed as before because Damian had stopped applying his technique, but she did feel surprisingly good. 

Damian's relaxed attitude and excellent technique caused her to enjoy this moment more than she probably should. She always liked getting her hair braided, but she'd never imagined ever being in a situation like this… 

In the span of a few hours, she'd nearly died, been saved by a mysterious stranger demanding her service in return, tried to kill this stranger on two separate occasions, channelled myst for the first time with his help, and now, finally, she was getting her hair braided… by that same stranger. 

Understandably, Alita was now reconsidering some of the choices she'd made leading up to this, even though she didn't move from her spot and allowed Damian to do his work on her hair… 

At the same time, while Alita's thoughts were racing, Damian simply continued working, seemingly without a care in the world, a lazy smile on his lips. He didn't think it necessary to answer Alita's question. 

Suddenly, Alita spoke up again, this time with a more pointed remark. "I don't even know your name…" she muttered absentmindedly. 

"It's Damian," he answered casually. Then, without stopping his hands, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear. "But you can just call me Master…" 

Instantly, Alita's expression scrunched up into a scowl. His remark broke the spell of comfort she'd been under and reminded her of the situation she found herself in. It wasn't like she'd forgotten the deal he'd forced from her dying lips, nor did she think he had, but that didn't mean she had no issues with it. 

"You really think you can hold me to a promise made under duress…?" she growled angrily, despite staying seated. Years of doing this with her sister had conditioned her to remain seated while her hair was being braided. "You may be stronger than me, and you may have saved my life, but I'm no one's servant!" 

"Hehehe," Damian chuckled mysteriously before suddenly releasing her hair and waving his hand. Bloodred myst gathered on his fingertips, and the braids finished themselves instantly. 

Then, before Alita could react, he bent forward and wrapped his arms around her. One hand gripped her throat, and the other secured her arms. "You already are," Damian whispered, his grip tightening just enough to remind her it was there. "But don't worry, I have ways to make sure I get what I'm owed..." 

Gasping, Alita's eyes widened. She truly could do nothing against Damian's strength. With her body immobilized and her airway almost completely cut off, she'd never felt so helpless before… Even when she nearly died, she had never truly felt out of control. 

But now? In Damian's arms? Her body secured, and her life in his hands? Now, something inside her, almost like an instinct, told her this man could do whatever he wanted to her. 

She should be panicking. Should be fighting back. But all she felt was… steady. Safe. A level of safety, comfort, and protection that she'd never felt before… not since her parents were killed. In a way, it felt like she was back in the arms of her father, even if a sterner, more aggressive version of him. 

But these feelings also caused her confusion and fear—so much so that it took her a second to realize Damian had already let her go and was now leaning back in his chair, watching her with a hint of amusement. 

Instantly, indignation rose like a tide. Bolting to her feet, Alita turned around and glared at him. "What the hell was that about?!" she snarled, her eyes burning with a fury born from lack of understanding. 

Damian smiled curiously at her. According to his mother, awakening someone also created a familial instinct within the scion and aimed at their progenitor, something that was separate from the bond, but no less useful in keeping them under control. 'That should make things a little easier as well,' he pondered to himself. 

"W— What the hell are you smiling about?!" Alita yelled, now appearing truly irate, her hands balled into fists. If it wasn't for that infuriating mental block, she would have already attacked him. 

Seemingly unbothered, Damian completely ignored her question and asked something else entirely. "How did I do on the braids?" he smirked proudly, his eyes following the twin braids of blue hair swaying behind Alita's back. 

"You—! W—What—?!" Alita stammered, completely caught off guard. Subconsciously, her eyes turned toward the braids, and she was surprised they were finished. Then she quickly shook her head and turned back toward Damian. "D—Don't change the subject!" she accused, pointing at him with narrowed eyes. 

Damian chuckled and stood up from his chair again. Slowly, a charming smile on his lips, he strolled over to her, and Alita had to fight every instinct she had not to flinch back. 

"Alright, Alita," he suddenly said before saying something Alita had definitely not expected. "If you don't wish to serve me, then I can offer an alternative. We both know you can't get away from me, so I'm sure you realize you'll have to give me something to satisfy me." 

Alita gulped, but she still nodded and quickly started calming down. If she didn't have to serve, then perhaps things weren't so bad? 

"Good," he continued, now standing very close to her as his crimson eyes bored into her blue ones. "You see, Alita. What I really need is control over Battle Surge or, really, any of the gangs. So, if you don't wish to serve, then introduce me to your sister." 

Alita stiffened. The mention of her sister sent her thoughts into a spiral, but Damian wasn't done yet. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. "What do you think she would choose, Alita? If I offered her personal power and advanced technology, as well as the vengeance you've both been craving for years now, all in return for her service, would she agree?" 

Alita blinked. Would Nova actually agree? No—she wouldn't. She… wouldn't. Right? Instinct told her to say no, but then Damian threw some extra fuel on top. 

"Now, remember," he said with a mysterious smile, hands casually in his pockets as he shrugged. "If neither you nor your sister agrees, I'll simply go to one of the other gangs. Eventually, with my help, one of the Expans's gangs will rise to ultimate prominence. It could be Battle Surge, but… it doesn't have to be." 

He raised an eyebrow again. "Now, with that in mind, are you sure your sister would decline…?" 

Now, an outside observer might wonder why Damian was going through all this trouble when the bond between himself and Alita had already been established. 

But… that was exactly the problem. Sometimes, when it concerned individuals with a lot of willpower, the bond remained far too shallow to enforce any level of obedience, and Alita was one such person. 

Fortunately, such a problem could be fixed with a little bit of effort…