Forge Goddesses to Rule the World

013

The evening air around the BBQ Stall was thick with the savory, spice-laden scent of roasting meat, but the atmosphere had suddenly turned cold enough to frost over. The rhythmic sizzle of the grill was drowned out by the heavy, rhythmic thud of combat boots against the asphalt.

Auntie Bailey and Monica Bailey looked up simultaneously, their faces draining of color as a group of figures emerged from the neon-lit haze of the market. Leading the pack was a man who looked like he had been vomited out of a third-rate nightclub. Chad Lewis was roughly twenty-four, with a face that screamed of late nights and unearned privilege. He wore a gaudy, gold-trimmed tracksuit that was likely worth more than the entire stall, and his eyes—hooded and predatory—swept over Monica with a hunger that made her skin crawl.

"Well, well, Monica," Chad Lewis drawled, a crooked, yellowed grin stretching across his face. "It’s been a long week. I hope you’ve spent every second of it thinking about me. Because, believe me, I’ve been thinking about you."

He stopped at the edge of the stall’s seating area, his hands tucked into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels. "So? Let’s skip the pleasantries. Do you have my five hundred thousand dollars in emotional compensation, or have you finally realized that being my girlfriend is a much more... lucrative career path?"

Monica felt a surge of bile in her throat. She clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white. "You can rot in the Netherlands, Chad. You and I both know that five hundred thousand is a fantasy. You framed us, you ruined our business for a week, and now you have the nerve to come here and demand my life in exchange?"

Chad’s expression didn't change, but his eyes grew colder. He looked toward Auntie Bailey, who was trembling behind the grill.

"Frame you? That’s a heavy word, Auntie," Chad said, his voice dripping with mock hurt. "I have five witnesses who saw those live Mandala Snake larvae in my skewers. In The Grand Dominion, health and safety are paramount. I’m actually being quite generous. I could have had the West Martial Military District shut this whole block down."

Auntie Bailey found her voice, though it was thin and wavering with fury. "You’re a liar! You threw those things on the plate yourself. We’ve run this stall for twenty years, ever since my husband died, and we’ve never had a single complaint! You’re nothing but a scavenger, Chad Lewis. I’d rather see my daughter in a labor camp than with a man like you!"

Behind her, young Zack Bailey stepped forward, his small face twisted in a mask of defiance. "Go away, you big bully! You’re not getting anything! My sister is going to be a great hero at the Spirit Martial Academy, and then she’ll put you in jail!"

The crowd that had gathered around the stall began to swell. In the sprawling night markets of Forest City, drama was the only thing cheaper than the street food. People whispered behind their hands, their eyes darting between the terrified family and the arrogant Rich Kid.

"Look at that," a woman whispered to her husband, her eyes fixed on Monica’s legs. "That’s the Bailey girl. Such a beauty. It’s a tragedy, really. That Chad guy... he’s a branch member of the Lewis Family. They own half the real estate in this district."

An elderly vendor nearby, who had been selling fried dough for decades, sighed heavily. "It’s the same old story. Since the Spirit Revival, these people with a bit of family power think they’re gods. They call the police, and the police just buy them lunch. That poor girl... she doesn't stand a chance. Five hundred thousand dollars? They might as well ask for the moon."

Chad heard the whispers, and they only seemed to fuel his ego. He turned his gaze back to Monica, his patience clearly reaching its end. "I’m tired of the soap opera. The deadline is now. Either you come with me, or I call my 'friends' at the station and have your mother hauled off for health code violations and resisting arrest. And since you’re so fond of your little brother’s mouth..."

He suddenly lunged forward, his hand swinging in a wide, vicious arc aimed directly at Zack’s cheek.

"No!" Monica screamed, reaching out but knowing she was too far away to stop the blow. Auntie Bailey let out a strangled cry, her eyes squeezing shut in anticipation of the impact.

But the sound of the slap never came.

Instead, there was a dull, meaty thud, followed by the sound of boots scraping against the pavement. Monica opened her eyes and gasped.

Leo Shaw was standing there. He hadn't just moved; he had appeared, as if the shadows themselves had coalesced into a human form. His hand was clamped around Chad’s wrist like a vice, stopping the blow mere inches from the boy’s face.

The contrast between the two men was staggering. Chad was sweating, his movements jerky and uncontrolled. Leo was the picture of aristocratic calm, his Spirit-Forged Body radiating a subtle, pressurized aura that made the air around him feel heavier.

"You have a very strange definition of 'negotiation,' Chad," Leo said, his voice like silk over whetstone. He didn't look angry; he looked bored, as if he were dealing with a particularly annoying insect.

"Leo!" Monica breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked at his broad back, and a sudden, overwhelming wave of relief washed over her. In that moment, the terrifying world of debt and threats seemed to shrink, replaced by the undeniable reality of the man standing in front of her.

Leo didn't turn around, but he gave a small, reassuring nod. "Get behind me, Monica. Take your brother and your mother and step back. I’ll handle the trash removal."

[Ding! Target Goddess Monica Bailey’s affection has surged to 80%!]

The Loli Voice in Leo’s head was practically singing. [Host, you’re on fire! That was a textbook hero-entry! You’ve just earned 10 Goddess Affection Points! You’re only 20 points away from a 'Supreme Bond'!]

Chad Lewis struggled to pull his hand back, but it was like trying to move a mountain. His face turned a deep, mottled purple as he stared at Leo. "Who the hell are you? Do you have any idea whose wrist you’re holding? I’m Chad Lewis! If you don't let go in the next three seconds, I’ll have your entire family erased from Forest City!"

Leo let out a short, dry chuckle. He slowly increased the pressure of his grip. The sound of Chad’s expensive gold watch straining against his skin was audible in the sudden silence of the market. "The Lewis Family, huh? I wonder if they’d be proud to know you’re using their name to slap children in a night market. My name is Leo Shaw. Perhaps that name carries a bit more weight in your circles than yours does in mine?"

The name "Shaw" hit the crowd like a shockwave. The whispers changed instantly from pity to awe. In The Grand Dominion, the Shaw family wasn't just wealthy; they were a pillar of the economy, a lineage that even the West Martial Military District treated with kid gloves.

Chad’s eyes went wide. He looked at Leo’s tailored blazer, the subtle gleam of the Dragon-Phoenix Ring on his finger, and the sheer, unbothered confidence in his gaze. He began to tremble, his bravado evaporating like mist in a furnace. "The... the Shaw family? You’re Sam Shaw’s kid? But... but the rumors said you were a shut-in! A weakling!"

"Rumors are for people who can't see the truth when it’s standing right in front of them," Leo replied. He suddenly let go of Chad’s wrist, sending the man stumbling back into his group of thugs.

The thugs—five of them in total—immediately closed ranks. They were older, more rugged, their faces scarred from years of low-tier mercenary work in the Skyfield Forest. Unlike Chad, they weren't just Spoiled Scions; they were combatants. Two of them stepped forward, a muddy-brown Earth Power aura flickering around their fists.

"I don't care who your father is, kid," the tallest thug growled, his voice like gravel in a blender. "In this district, power talks. And right now, we’re the ones with the Spirit Power. You’ve got a big mouth for a student who hasn't even had his Awakening Ceremony yet."

Leo stood his ground, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. He looked at the five men, noting their sloppy stances and their unstable Resonance Fields. They were Tier 1 or Tier 2 at best—the kind of trash that couldn't make it into a proper guild and had to settle for being muscle for hire.

"Is that so?" Leo asked, his eyes narrowing. "A bunch of grown men using their 'gifts' to extort a widow. You know, in the Metahuman World, there’s a term for people like you. We call you 'bait.' Because that’s all you’re good for—distracting the monsters while the real warriors get the job done."

"You little brat!" the lead thug roared. "I'll break every bone in your 'rich kid' body!"

The crowd gasped as the two Earth Power users lunged forward. To a civilian, the sight of a metahuman in action was terrifying—the air warped with heat, and the ground beneath their feet seemed to vibrate with kinetic force. Monica and her mother screamed, but Leo didn't even flinch.

He felt the Sorrow of Thunder aura activate, a cold, invisible wave of energy expanding from his core. The thugs' muddy-brown auras suddenly sputtered and dimmed, their internal Spirit Power becoming erratic and difficult to control. They stumbled, their coordination failing as they entered his ten-yard radius.

Leo looked at them with a look of profound disappointment. "Is this really the best the Lewis Family can hire? I’ve seen more Spirit Power in a broken flashlight."

He raised his hand, his fingers poised in the air. The silence that followed was absolute. Even the flickering neon lights seemed to hold their breath.

"You talk a lot about 'power,' Chad," Leo said, his gaze fixed on the cowering Rich Kid. "But let me show you what real power looks like. Let me show you what happens when you disturb my dinner."

Leo snapped his fingers.

Snap.

The sound was sharp, like a whip-c***k, but it was followed by something far more terrifying. A jagged arc of violet electricity erupted from his fingertips, leaping through the air with the speed of thought. It didn't strike the thugs; instead, it slammed into the asphalt between them and Leo, creating a localized explosion of Nihility Divine Thunder.

The ground erupted in a shower of sparks and blackened concrete. The shockwave sent the five thugs flying backward, their auras shattered instantly. They hit the ground hard, their bodies twitching as the residual static from the SSS-tier ability scrambled their nervous systems.

The crowd fell into a state of Cognitive Dissonance. They had seen metahumans before, but never anything like this. This wasn't the slow, clumsy power of an earth-shaper or a fire-breather. This was something primordial—a force of nature that felt like it belonged in the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

Chad Lewis was the only one left standing, his knees knocking together so hard it was audible over the humming of the city’s power grid. He looked at his fallen men, then at the smoking crater in the middle of the street, and finally at Leo, who was calmly dusting off his sleeve.

"Now," Leo said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low-frequency whisper. "About that five hundred thousand dollars. I think you’ve made a small accounting error. By my calculations, between the damage to the stall, the emotional distress you’ve caused this family, and the fact that you’ve wasted fifteen minutes of my time... you owe the Bailey family exactly one million dollars."

Chad’s jaw dropped. "One... one million? You're insane! I don't have that kind of money on me!"

"Then I suggest you call your 'uncle' in the West Martial Military District," Leo replied, taking a slow, predatory step forward. "Tell him that Leo Shaw is holding you for ransom. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear that his nephew is causing diplomatic incidents with the city’s largest tax-payer. Or, you can sign over that fancy sports car you have parked around the corner and provide a written confession of your extortion attempt."

Leo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, metallic device—a Rare Artifact known as a Truth-Binder. "If you choose the confession, I’ll let you walk out of here. If not... well, I’ve been meaning to test out how long an unawakened human can survive a low-voltage discharge of my Nihility Divine Thunder."

Chad looked at the violet sparks still dancing around Leo’s fingertips and felt his bladder give way. He collapsed to his knees, sobbing like a child. "I'll sign! I'll sign whatever you want! Just please, don't kill me!"

Monica watched the scene from behind the grill, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and profound admiration. She looked at Leo, the man who had just dismantled a group of metahumans without even taking his hands out of his pockets. He looked like a god among men, a sovereign who had descended to her humble world to set things right.

[Ding! Target Goddess Monica Bailey’s affection is climbing! 82%... 85%...]

[Host, you’re a natural-born tyrant! I love it!]

Leo ignored the system’s cheerleading. He walked over to the table and picked up his abandoned skewer. It was cold now, but as he took a bite, he found it tasted better than anything he’d ever had in the most expensive restaurants of Forest City.

"Auntie," Leo said, looking over at the stunned woman. "I think you should start preparing a fresh batch. We’re going to have a lot of customers tonight. And don't worry about the bill—Chad here is picking up the tab for the whole neighborhood."

As the crowd erupted into cheers and people began to rush toward the stall, eager to be part of the legend, Leo leaned back in his plastic chair. The Awakening Ceremony was tomorrow, and the world was about to change. But for now, he had a million dollars to collect, a Goddess to woo, and the best BBQ in the city to finish.

The game was just getting started.