Cupids: The Wrong Kind of Spark

Chapter 5 The Weight of Worship

One.

The drizzling rain hitting the cold North Jakarta asphalt suddenly felt as warm as instant noodle water. Underneath Reyhan's skinny body, Elena Moretti’s eyes went wide. That giant thorny Cupid behind the mafia boss, the one that usually rages with hunger for a life sacrifice, was instantly smacked by an invisible fist of pure gold. Inside Reyhan’s head, Aeros blew away the monster’s thorny iron armor in a single breath.

Two.

Elena's gray pupils, which were wild with predatory instincts just a second ago, suddenly shrank and then dilated at crazy speed. The blood-soaked thorny rose symbol in her soul melted away, syncing up no-questions-asked with Aeros's absolute tyrannical vibes. Elena, who was right in the middle of chewing red gum, dropped her jaw. She literally forgot how to breathe for a solid second and a half.

Three.

That eye contact broke when Reyhan choked on some rain and scrambled to sit up. But the cosmic seal was already locked tight.

"Boss! Boss Elena! You okay?" yelled one of Elena's henchmen who was built like a double-door fridge, panicking at the sight of their boss, feared across the entire harbor, falling down pinned by a guy in a messy hospital shirt. Their machine guns were immediately aimed right at the back of Reyhan’s neck. "Let me put a hole in this hobo’s head right now, Boss!"

"DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM, YOU BASTARD!"

That hysterical, broken scream didn't come from Isabella, who was still inside the car, but from Elena herself.

In one incredibly fast acrobatic move, Elena rolled, flipped their positions, and immediately put her own henchman—the one who was about to shoot Reyhan—in a headlock. With one heartless shove, she slammed the tattooed giant into the asphalt until he passed out instantly, his forehead hitting the armored vehicle’s bumper.

"B-Boss?" The other mafia guys still holding weapons stepped back, their faces turning pale as ghosts.

Elena didn't give a damn about them. She turned around with shaking knees, crawling fast toward Reyhan who was sitting dazed on the wet asphalt. Elena’s wild face, usually decorated with a sadistic smirk, was now filled with a ridiculously silly level of anxiety, looking like a mother who just realized her baby almost ate a live cockroach.

"Oh my god, Honey! Reyhan, baby! Are you hurt?!" Elena grabbed Reyhan’s cheeks with both hands that were suddenly trembling. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry my idiot henchmen pointed a gun at you! I should've just sliced his head off with a sickle right then! Here, where does it hurt? Is your chest tight? Do you need mouth-to-mouth? Right now? I'm totally ready!"

"U-Um... let go of my cheeks first," Reyhan mumbled, gasping for air because Elena’s grip was so strong his face was squeezed like a goldfish. "I just bumped the asphalt a little, it's not like I got beat up by a whole battalion."

“Hahahahaha! Look at this wild dog instantly turning into a scaredy-cat chihuahua!” Aeros laughed his head off inside Reyhan’s temple of consciousness. “Nice one, Reyhan! We successfully diverted her Bloodlust aura into a crazy territorial-protective instinct! She won't let a single eyelash of yours hit the dirt!”

"But she's hugging me way too tight, Aeros! My ribs are gonna snap for real before I even get any compensation!" Reyhan complained in his head.

Before Reyhan could manage to escape the 'death hug' of the mafia boss, the dented door of the Maybach behind them was suddenly kicked from the inside until it flew six feet away.

Isabella Vance crawled out, panting for breath. Her expensive suit worth hundreds of millions was now torn at the shoulder, showing her pale skin bleeding slightly from glass shards. However, it wasn't the physical pain making her blue eyes glow reddish, but the scene right in front of her.

"Get your greasy, oil-stained hands off my Lord’s body, Elena Moretti!" Isabella screamed. Her voice, which was usually so authoritative in boardroom meetings, was now high-pitched, cracking with a wave of pure, uncontrolled possessiveness.

Isabella stumbled toward them through the drizzle. She pulled off one of her broken high heels and gripped it tight like a military dagger.

"Well, well, look who's looking for a war," Elena stood up, immediately stepping in front of Reyhan like a mama tiger ready to rip out the throat of a nuisance lion. She pointed her submachine gun right at Isabella’s face without a hint of doubt. "Back off three steps, Vance! Or I’ll give that smarty-pants head of yours some extra air vents right now!"

"Just shoot, you Street Walker!" Isabella challenged her like a crazy person. "My death will never break my soul’s spiritual contract with Reyhan! He’s mine! I’m the one who took him from the hospital, I’m the one who has the right to lock him up in my golden room!"

"Mine my ass! He’s in pain because he rode in that junk car of yours!" Elena fired back. "Look at him! He’s so fragile! I should take him to my base, feed him premium steak every hour, and let him sleep on a bulletproof mattress!"

"Uh... hold on," Reyhan cut in, trying to crawl away to save himself from this civil war between a business giant and a crime queen. "I'm just a regular AC technician, ladies. My life choices are usually just between two portions of rice or two packs of instant noodles. Please don't talk about bulletproof mattresses..."

But Reyhan’s voice was drowned out by the pure insults being screamed between the two most influential women in the city. The mafia's weapons were clicking as they cocked them, facing off against the remaining automated defense system of Isabella’s Maybach that was popping out laser death-scanners.

Right as the tension hit its peak and the first bullet was about to pierce the raindrops, Reyhan’s chest suddenly felt like it was hit by an ancient giant’s sledgehammer.

“Reyhan! Curb your energy! LIMIT BREAK!” Aeros yelled, his tone flipping to pure panic instantly.

Ugh!

Reyhan coughed hard. A very thick, warm feeling surged up his throat. When he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes went wide at the color of the blood. It wasn't the usual dark red.

It was a thick gold liquid glowing faintly under the dim streetlights.

Pain shot through every inch of his veins. Every joint in his body felt forced to carry the weight of thousands of tons of building concrete.

“The Limiter... Soul Strain!” Aeros growled, trying to toughen up Reyhan’s soul structure from the inside. “That fragile human body of yours is designed to hold one soul surrendered from one regular Cupid! But right now, you’re syncing two top-tier Cupids absolutely in less than an hour! Isabella and Elena’s souls are tugging at your core consciousness without mercy! If they keep fighting over you, the resonance is going to crack your physical shell into gold dust!”

"U-ugh... no wonder... it hurts like hell..." Reyhan leaned on his shaking knees on the wet asphalt. Gold blood also started leaking from his left nostril, dripping slowly and mixing with the rain.

"Huh? Reyhan, Babe!" Elena, noticing the gold stains on Reyhan’s face, immediately dropped her gun into the muddy puddle. She knelt down, looking panicked out of her mind. "What’s wrong?! Did this corporate bimbo poison you?!"

"Don't you dare accuse me, you Murderer!" Isabella shouted, panicking too, throwing her expensive shoe who-knows-where and dropping to her knees on the other side of Reyhan’s body. She grabbed Reyhan’s right hand, which felt ice cold. "Master... hold onto me! Take my energy! Use me for whatever you want, just please don't be in pain!"

Seeing these two women, who were originally so dignified and terrifying, now wailing in panic around him while fighting over his sleeves, the corner of Reyhan’s gold-stained lips suddenly twitched in annoyance.

These girls are freaking nuts.

This wild rage that didn't even feel human—more like a shredded piece of Aeros’s tyrannical ego—suddenly took over his busted chest.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, ALL OF YOU!!!"

Reyhan shouted with a voice that echoed on some frequency regular people couldn't even catch. A pale gold shockwave blasted out from Reyhan, circling out twenty meters through the open air.

Right then and there, Isabella and Elena completely froze. Their lips, which were busy spitting insults, were locked tight like they’d been hit with super glue. Their bodies were stuck in place—Elena with her finger pointing, and Isabella still clutching Elena’s leather jacket collar.

The mafia goons all around them also went blank-eyed, unable to move even a single finger on their triggers thanks to the absolute spiritual beatdown from the pissed-off tyrant.

The highway, which was already quiet that night, suddenly went dead silent, leaving nothing but the sound of raindrops hitting the hood of the armored truck.

Reyhan wiped the leftover gold blood from his nose with a move that was super smooth but also terrifying as hell. His gaze was ice-cold, looking at those two powerful women one after the other like an emperor judging two annoying puppies that just pissed on his palace carpet.

"Listen," Reyhan whispered coldly, using whatever energy he had left to hammer every single word deep into their souls. "The two of you belong to me. Your right to live is in the palm of my hand now. If you want me to keep breathing, you’re gonna stop fighting like toddlers over some cheap plastic toy."

Isabella and Elena could only blink their eyes super slowly, pure tears of obedience streaming down their cheeks. To them, this raggedy dude in front of them was now glowing with a vibe of eternal, unmatched darkness.

Reyhan looked over at one of Elena’s goons—this giant guy standing right in front of him, still stiff as a wax statue.

"You," Reyhan pointed weakly. "Help me get into that armored truck. And Elena..." Reyhan stared into the mafia boss’s eyes. "...shake this soul-freeze off in ten seconds, then get me out of here right now."

Ten seconds later...

The heavy armored door of Elena’s truck slammed shut with a loud metallic thud. The fleet of illegal war machines immediately sped off through the night rain, carrying the new ruler away from the battlefield at top speed.

On the edge of the wrecked highway, Isabella Vance was still kneeling on the cold, wet asphalt. As Reyhan’s indirect release spell started to wear off, her slender fingers gripped the road so hard her nails cracked and bled.

Her eyes stared blankly at the puff of exhaust from Elena’s truck as it vanished around the bend of the overpass.

The obsession in her soul, which had been twisted by that golden tyranny screamed out, crazily demanding its idol back.

"Elena... Moretti..." Isabella whispered, a cruel smirk slowly spreading across her beautiful face that was a mess of rain and smeared black mascara. "Enjoy your new toy tonight... ‘Cause tomorrow, I’m gonna buy out the whole police force and move whatever’s left of this company’s private military just to tear your mafia heaven down from the roots until you give my Master back!"