Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!-Chapter 307: ...The Promise of War.

His breathing was measured, but the rage? It simmered. Boiled. Seeped into his bones.

"You killed something important," he continued, his tone tightening. "Something that belonged to me. You thought that was it? That I'd just—move on? Shrug it off? Like it wasn't a big deal?" His lips curled into something cold. "No. That's not how this works, old man."

He lifted his boot and shoved Theseus' body aside, casual, dismissive.

"Now you've lost something important too."

Parker let the words settle, let the weight of them hang in the air before he took a slow, deliberate breath. Then he tilted his head, eyes sharp, voice dropping into something even colder, crueler.

"And just so we're clear?" He let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "I don't do that 'eye for an eye' bullshit. That's for cowards. You take one thing from me?" His voice sharpened, cutting like a blade. "I take a hundred from you."

His foot nudged Theseus' limp arm again, his smirk widening slightly. "And this little piece of shit? He's the first on your list."

Then he took a step forward, looking at nothing and everything all at once. But he knew. Oh, he fucking knew. They were watching. Poseidon, Zeus, Hades—all three of the Olympian bastards.

"Count how many you have left before we're even," Parker said smoothly. "And trust me, Poseidon, if you did anything else—anything—then start preparing your tab, 'cause you'll be paying a thousand times over, asshole. And after you..."

Then, his head tilted ever so slightly. His tone shifted—not quite casual, but pointed. Like a knife being pressed to skin, slow and deliberate.

"Golden One—you're next."

He didn't need to say the name. They knew. He felt it, the way their attention sharpened, stiffened, turned ice fucking cold.

His smirk widened. He lifted a hand, cracked his knuckles, and then—just for the hell of it—his gaze flicked sideways. He didn't need to see them. He just knew.

"You too."

His voice was light. Casual. Like he was discussing the weather. But that? That was the part that made it worse.

Then, without another word, he spat and he turned.

The destruction stretched around him, the deep, yawning hole splitting the road apart like a canyon. At the very edge, waiting patiently in the moonlight, untouched by the chaos, was his car.

Parker exhaled, flexed his fingers, and then—without hesitation—jumped.

The air whipped past him, the void of shattered asphalt below barely registering as he landed effortlessly on the other side. One foot. Perfect balance. Like gravity itself meant nothing.

Then he walked forward, smooth and controlled, like he hadn't just crossed a fucking war zone with a single jump.

****

Olympus—Silence and Chaos

Olympus was... silent.

Which was weird. Because Olympus was never silent. Ever.

It was usually a mess of arguments, boasting, and Dionysus being an absolute menace to society. But right now? Right now, the atmosphere was so fucking thick, you could probably cut it with one of Ares' axes.

The gods were gathered in their usual places, seated around the grand hall, bathed in golden light, their thrones towering, majestic—and completely ignored. Because all attention was on one thing.

The giant, shimmering screen in the center of the hall. The one that had just replayed the events in painfully clear detail.

Parker.

Killing Theseus.

No magic. No tricks. No divine artifacts. Just raw, unfiltered power.

And then? That little 'conversation' he'd left behind.

That promise.

And, at the very end of the hall, seated together in absolute fucking silence, were three particular gods.

Zeus. Poseidon. Hades.

Expressionless. Blank.

Not a twitch. Not a sigh. Not a single damn word.

And that? That was somehow worse.

The rest of the gods, however?

Losing their shit.

"Okay, so—I don't know about the rest of you—" Hermes was the first to break the silence, hands flying up, "—but I feel like we should be slightly more concerned about the fact that Parker just murdered the first Olympian Champion like it was a fucking Tuesday afternoon." He refused to question who Parker thought he was to warn gods or more like he refused to question who really Parker was.

Well, that would be a wrong question too!

Dionysus, leaning back with a goblet in hand, raised a single finger. "To be fair, it was a Tuesday."

"That's not the fucking point!" Hermes snapped. "The point is that—" He gestured wildly at the pool, where Parker had just vaulted over a giant chasm like gravity owed him money.

Aphrodite, still staring at the pool, let out a long, slow exhale. Then, with zero shame, muttered, "Fucking Hades's hell, that was hot."

Several gods turned to look at her.

"What?" She shrugged, sipping from a golden chalice. "I'm just saying. Objectively."

Apollo, sitting nearby, dragged both hands down his face. "Aphrodite, please."

"What? You can't tell me that wasn't—"

"He literally just killed an Olympian!"

"And looked good doing it."

"I swear to Olympus—"

Meanwhile, Artemis had been very, very quiet. Which was concerning, considering she was usually the first to yell about injustices and mortal foolishness. But right now? She just watched.

Her silver eyes were sharp, her fingers flexing against the arms of her throne. And when she finally spoke, her voice was calm. Steady.

"This is going to be a problem."

Ares let out a sharp laugh from the other side of the hall. "No shit."

"You don't get it," Artemis said, turning her head, her gaze cutting through the room like a damn blade. "We keep treating him like a mortal. Like someone who doesn't belong in our world. But he'll walk through Olympian champions like they're nothing, just you wait.." Her fingers curled into fists. "How long until he stops being a problem and starts being a fucking crisis?"

The space fell uncomfortably quiet.

And then, from the far end of the hall, a new voice spoke. Light, amused, but carrying the weight of something older. Something deeper.

"Oh, I'd say we're already there."

Nyx.

The Primordial goddess of the night, half lounging against the shadows, watching the chaos unfold like it was free entertainment.

The Olympians stiffened as she smiled.

"Poor Theseus." She sighed dramatically. "Gone before he could even show off." Her dark gaze flicked to the still-silent Big Three. "I imagine that must sting."

No reaction.

No response.

Just that cold, unsettling silence.

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Nyx hummed. "Well." She leaned back lazily. "Guess it's time for round two."

Because if there was one thing everyone in this room knew?

Parker wasn't fucking done.

*****

Volume II is about to start: Prince Nyxilith and The Forces of Mundane Earth

First off—

If you made it this far? Congrats.

You're tougher than most.

Most people would've folded halfway through. But not you.

You're still here. Watching. Waiting. Thinking you've seen it all.

Cute.

Now listen up.

Prince Nyxilith isn't just stepping onto the stage.

He is the stage.

The lights, the curtains, the whole damn show.

The game changes.

Prince Nyxilith has risen.

Not a hero.

Not a savior.

A storm wrapped in skin. A beautiful, brutal disaster the world wasn't ready for.

He's not just playing the game anymore—he's buying the whole damn board.

Infinite money?

Real money?

We breathe that shit.

We won't buy the world — we own it. Stocks, buildings, governments... petty little "gods" in suits? Yeah, they're already shaking.

This isn't a fairytale.

It's a hostile takeover.

Mundane Earth clutches its fake peace, its fake gods, its fake kings, its fake power.

But when the shadows start moving, when the skies rip open, when every fake rule shatters like cheap glass—

they'll remember.

They'll remember the day a Prince of Existence put a price tag on the world...

and bought it.

And no, he's not here to ask for permission.

He's here to burn it down, build it up, and then own it all.

I'm here to show them what happens when a Prince with real teeth and real power decides he's bored.

Welcome to Volume II.

Hope you brought armor. And a fat-ass bank account.

You're gonna need both.

No crowns. No mercy.

Only power.

Only money.

Only Prince Nyxilith.

And if you thought the first part was crazy...

Buckle the fuck up.

We're just getting started.