GOD OF WAR: THE SYSTEM OF VENGEANCE

Chapter 6- The slap of vengeance

The pain was eating him alive.

Damon's vision blurred as fire coursed through every nerve ending. His heart hammered so hard he could taste copper.

The diner floor felt ice-cold against his knee, but his skin was becoming hotter from the inside.

"Look at him," Adrian's voice drifted down from what felt like a great height. "Crawling on the floor like the dog he is."

[SYSTEM FAILURE IN 30 SECONDS.]

[HOST TERMINATION IMMINENT.]

Claire's laugh cut through the static building in his ears. "Should we call someone? He looks seriously ill."

"Let him suffer." Adrian's designer shoe appeared in Damon's blurring vision. "Maybe pain will teach him some humility."

Twenty-nine seconds.

The waitress was saying something about calling 911, but her voice sounded underwater. Everything was fading except the countdown burning behind his eyes.

Twenty-five seconds.

Damon tried to speak, to apologize, to do anything that might make this stop. But his throat felt like someone had poured acid down it.

Twenty seconds.

"You know what?" Adrian crouched down, bringing his face level with Damon's. "I'm almost disappointed. I expected more fight from Kane's favorite nephew."

Fifteen seconds.

"Then again," Adrian continued, his breath hot against Damon's ear, "maybe this is exactly what trash deserves."

Ten seconds.

Something snapped inside Damon's chest. Not physical—deeper than that. Like a chain that had been wrapped around his soul finally breaking free.

Five seconds.

The pain vanished.

Everything went silent.

Damon stood up.

The movement was fluid, controlled, like he was being lifted by invisible strings. Adrian stumbled backward, surprise replacing smugness for the first time.

"What—"

Damon's right hand came up in a perfect arc.

The slap connected with Adrian's cheek with a sound like a gunshot.

Adrian flew.

Not stumbled. Not staggered. Flew backward across the diner like he'd been hit by a truck. His body slammed into the far wall, rattling the mounted TV and sending salt shakers crashing to the floor.

He didn't get up.

The silence stretched for heartbeats that felt like hours.

Then Claire screamed.

"Adrian!" She rushed to where he lay crumpled against the wall, blood trickling from his nose. "Oh God, Adrian, wake up!"

The entire diner erupted in chaos. Customers scrambled for their phones, some calling 911, others filming everything.

"Holy shit, did you see that?"

"Guy went flying like ten feet!"

"How is that even possible?"

Damon stared at his hand in shock. It felt normal. Looked normal. But moments ago it had generated enough force to launch a grown man across a room.

[QUEST COMPLETE.]

[CALCULATING REWARDS...]

[STRENGTH +1 ACQUIRED.]

[WAR GOD'S BATTLE SENSE UNLOCKED.]

[INTEGRATION SUCCESS: 34%]

Information flooded his mind—combat techniques he'd never learned, pressure points he'd never studied, tactical assessments happening automatically.

The construction worker near the door: favors his left leg, old injury.

The cook behind the counter: concealed knife in his belt. The security guards who'd entered behind Adrian: military training, but overconfident.

It was like someone had downloaded a military manual directly into his brain.

"You..." Claire's voice shook as she cradled Adrian's unconscious form. "You monster! What did you do to him?"

Damon looked down at her—really looked. The woman he'd planned to marry, who'd shared his bed just days ago, who'd whispered promises about their future together.

Now she looked like a stranger.

"I gave him what he deserved," Damon heard himself say.

The words surprised him. Where had that confidence come from?

[BATTLE SENSE ACTIVE. ASSESSING THREATS.]

Red outlines appeared around the security guards as they moved to flank him. His enhanced awareness calculated their approach vectors, their weak points, their probable attack patterns.

"Sir, you need to come with us." The larger guard reached for his shoulder.

Damon stepped aside without thinking. The motion was perfectly timed, causing the guard to stumble forward into empty air.

"How did you—"

"Lucky guess." But Damon knew it wasn't luck. The system was feeding him information faster than he could process it consciously.

"Stay back!" Claire positioned herself protectively over Adrian. "He's dangerous!"

Sirens wailed in the distance. Someone had called the real police.

"You should run," the waitress said quietly, refilling his coffee cup like nothing had happened. "Cops'll be here in three minutes."

Damon pulled out his wallet, hands steady for the first time in hours. "For the breakfast. And the show."

He placed a twenty on the table—probably the woman's biggest tip all week.

"Keep the change."

[TACTICAL WITHDRAWAL RECOMMENDED.]

But as he headed for the door, Adrian stirred. His cousin's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and confused.

"What... what happened?"

"You got what was coming to you." Damon paused at the threshold. "Finally."

Adrian tried to stand but wobbled, Claire catching him. "You're insane! I'll have you arrested for assault!"

"Get in line." Damon stepped into the morning sunlight. "Seems like everyone wants a piece of me these days."

[WARNING: POLICE ARRIVAL IMMINENT.]

[SUGGEST IMMEDIATE RELOCATION.]

The sirens were getting closer, but Damon felt oddly calm. His body hummed with new energy, like electricity running through his bones.

He walked to the nearest storefront window—a bail bondsman's office with reflective glass—and stopped dead.

His reflection looked back, but something was different. The bruises on his face were fading.

The split lip had sealed itself. Even the scrapes on his knuckles from last night were disappearing as he watched.

"What the hell?"

[REGENERATIVE ABILITIES: LEVEL 1. MINOR WOUNDS HEAL AUTOMATICALLY.]

[CONGRATULATIONS ON QUEST COMPLETION. YOU HAVE TAKEN THE FIRST STEP TOWARD YOUR DESTINY.]

Behind him, paramedics rushed into the diner. Adrian was conscious but disoriented, probably concussed. Claire was giving a hysterical statement to police about unprovoked assault.

But Damon couldn't stop staring at his reflection.

His eyes weren't glowing red anymore. They looked normal—brown, ordinary. Human.

So why did he feel like something fundamental had changed inside him?

[NEXT QUEST WILL BE ASSIGNED WITHIN 24 HOURS.]

[PREPARE YOURSELF, SUCCESSOR. THE REAL WORK BEGINS NOW.]

A police cruiser screeched around the corner,

heading straight for the diner.

Damon touched his healing face one more time, then melted into the crowd of morning commuters. Just another face in the city's endless stream of humanity.

But he wasn't just another face anymore, was he?

The question followed him into the darkness between buildings, along with the memory of Adrian's shocked expression just before the slap connected.

For the first time in twenty-four hours, Damon smiled.

And somewhere deep in his chest, something that felt suspiciously like hunger began to grow.

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