CHAPTER 44: 44. WEAPONRY GOD

Okutama Town

In one of the largest, still in prestine condition mansions in Okutama, two women stood in the kitchen, their voices barely above a whisper.

"They say something happened to Yolanda and the others who tried to run away..." one of them, a middle-aged woman, murmured while kneading dough on the marble counter. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying her unease. "Rumors are everywhere, and I don’t even know what’s true anymore."

The younger woman moved closer, eyes darting toward the hallway. ""I heard their shadows moved on their own. Turned into blades. Sliced them up into ribbons... Flesh torn so bad they couldn’t even tell whose arm was whose."

The older woman gasped, her fingers tightening in the dough. "That’s not what I heard. Word is—they imploded. Like something like a bomb burst inside them. Their blood, bones and bits of flesh scattered everywhere like ash in the wind."

The younger one shook her head solemnly. "No one really knows what happened. All we know for sure is... what was left of them had to be scraped off the walls."

Another shake of the head, this one heavier. "The boss’s power is terrifying. Only a complete idiot would think about betraying him."

Just then, the sharp clack of stilettos echoed down the hall.

They froze as color drained from their faces.

They didn’t need to see who it was. They knew the unmistakable sound of those stilettos.

The figure appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp and unblinking.

"Less talking. More working," came the gravelly command.

"Yes, ma’am," both women said in unison, heads bowed as they quickly resumed their tasks.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, the figure turned and walked off. Only when her footsteps faded did the maids dare to exhale.

They called her Gegee.

A name that traveled only in whispers and never raised above a hush. She was the second most powerful presence in the mansion, right below the boss and

undeniably the most beautiful woman in the mansion.

They said her beauty was a curse because it was just too perfect, and too unreal. She was the boss’s favorite from the day the Global System awakened and turned the world into something unrecognizable.

Gegee stood 5’8" with long legs that seemed to move with a hypnotic grace. Her body was luscious, curved in ways that made even other women stare. Her choice of wardrobe just added to the allure. She loved tight leather minis, sheer fabrics, and heels that could kill.

And then there was her face? A true masterpiece. Porcelain skin that caught the light like glass. Golden blonde hair cascading down her back like a waterfall

And eyes—sapphire blue and cold enough to freeze your soul. To look into her gaze too long felt like teetering on the edge of a dream and a nightmare.

She was beautiful.

And utterly merciless.

These days, she snapped at the maids for anything. Serve her food on silver? She wanted gold. Serve her gold? She demanded silver back. It was like walking on a minefield just being around her.

As Gegee moved through the mansion’s hallways, workers immediately pretended to be busy. Some scrubbed already gleaming floors. Others rearranged furniture that didn’t need adjusting.

She didn’t look at any of them.

Eventually, she stopped at a tall double door with a scowl that creased her brows.

It was his room.

Darren.

The boss. The first man in this region to kill when the world fell apart.

Leader of the RULERS—a faction so feared that while others ran to safe zones, Darren created his own. And people ran from it.

Gegee took a breath, forced a smile, and pushed the doors open.

The room inside looked like it belonged to royalty, not a thug with shiny floors, funiture trimmed with gold and a bed so big it could fit 8 people. On that bed lay three naked women, lounging like offerings.

Gegee’s expression twisted into disgust.

"Out," she snapped.

The women scrambled, collecting their clothes and rushing out without protest. The door clicked shut behind them.

She heard water running from the bathroom. Darren was in the shower.

Moving quickly, Gegee sat on the bed and grabbed the room’s landline, dialing a number from memory. In this mansion, phones were forbidden. Only Darren had one. Others used walkie-talkies when sent outside, but not here. Not in the heart of his lair.

Ngrrrr~~ ngrrr~~

She covered the speaker with her hand to muffle the sound.

A click. A male voice came through, gruff and tired. "Hello?"

"It’s me," she whispered. "What’s the update? Did they bring his head?"

A pause. Then a sigh. "I haven’t heard from them in three days. Something’s wrong."

Gegee’s jaw clenched. "You told me they were top-tier! You promised this would be done by now!"

"I know, but—"

Clink—

The bathroom door creaked open.

She slammed the receiver back on the cradle and pasted her fake smile again, her pulse hammering in her chest.

Darren came out of the bathroom, his hair wet, a towel wrapped around his lower half.

With his short, dark hair, hazel eyes that seemed to see more than just what’s on the ground, and a body so hot and muscular, it looked like he went on a daily routine like Ashton Hill.

He spotted her and raised an eyebrow. "Where are my girls?"

Gegee walked over and wrapped her arms around his glistening torso.

"You won’t need them today," she purred. "I’ll take care of everything."

She wrapped her arms around him and pushed him gently back onto the bed. As he reclined, she slid off her stilettos and climbed up, straddling him. She grabbed a bottle of lotion from the nightstand — something the servants had prepared and hiked her black, short leather skirt up her thighs.

She poured a handful of lotion into her palm and began to rub it over his chest slowly and thoroughly before she reached to the hard ridges of his abs, her fingers soft, practiced.

Darren let out a low chuckle. "You’re spoiling me."

He smiled enjoying both the treatment and the view of the goddess before him. His eyes were fixed on her soft white cotton panties that were protruding between her thighs, and the gentle jiggle of her breasts as she applied the moisturizer sent a rush of heat through him.

Heaven.

That’s what this felt like.

Who would’ve thought that his skill—Weaponry God—could lead him from the filth of the slums to a life of luxury like this?

Whatever alien created this Global System... you have my thanks.

He muttered the words under his breath just as Gegee reached for his towel and gently pulled it away, her hands gliding lower as she continued applying the moisturizer, softly teasing his manhood.

TBC