GOD OF WAR: THE SYSTEM OF VENGEANCE

Chapter 9- Quest of Revenge

By Morning, the whispers had started.

"Did you hear about the Blackwood heir?"

"Five men in the hospital. Professional fighters."

"They say he didn't even break a sweat."

Damon caught fragments of conversation as he walked through Midtown, testing his enhanced hearing. Amazing how quickly rumors spread when you gave people something impossible to gossip about.

At the Starbucks on Fifth Avenue, two socialites leaned over their lattes.

"My personal trainer knows one of those security guards. Said Damon moved like something out of a movie."

"Impossible. I've known him since prep school. He couldn't even make varsity tennis."

Their conversation died when they spotted him in line. Word traveled fast in their circles.

[REPUTATION ENHANCEMENT: 12%.]

[FEAR FACTOR: MODERATE.]

"Is that good or bad?" Damon asked quietly.

[DEPENDS ON YOUR OBJECTIVES. FEAR COMMANDS RESPECT. RESPECT GRANTS POWER.]

The barista's hands shook slightly as she took his order. "V-venti Pike Place. Anything else?"

"That's all, thanks." He left a fifty-dollar tip, watching her eyes widen. "Have a good day."

Meanwhile, across town in Mount Sinai's private wing, Adrian Blackwood stared at his reflection in horror.

The left side of his face was swollen beyond recognition. Purple bruises spread from his cheek to his temple like spilled wine.

The doctors said he was lucky—a blow like that should have shattered his skull.

"It was just a slap," he said for the hundredth time.

Claire sat beside his hospital bed, but her attention kept drifting to her phone. Social media was exploding with footage from the hotel confrontation.

"Look at this," she said, playing a video. "Sixty-seven million views already."

On screen, Damon moved through the security guards like they were standing still.

The comment section was going wild.

"Is this guy superhuman?"

"Fake. Has to be CGI."

"I know him. Used to be a total weakling. What happened?"

"How is that possible?" Adrian struggled to sit up, wincing. "He was nobody. A trust fund baby with soft hands."

"Maybe he's been training in secret." But Claire's voice lacked conviction. She'd seen his body two nights ago—lean but unremarkable.

Now he looked like he'd been carved from Greek god statue.

"Training doesn't explain moving faster than security cameras." Adrian's good eye fixed on her. "There's something else going on."

Claire's phone buzzed. A text from her sister;

"Holy shit, your ex is trending on TikTok.

#SuperhumanSlap has 200M views."

"This is getting out of hand," she whispered.

"Good." Adrian's smile was ugly through the swelling. "Let him enjoy his moment. I've got plans for dear cousin Damon."

FEW HOUR LATER

Back in his suite, Damon was learning that fame was a double-edged sword.

[SOCIAL MEDIA ANALYSIS COMPLETE.]

[YOUR ACTIONS HAVE GENERATED 847 MILLION IMPRESSIONS ACROSS PLATFORMS.]

"That many people saw me?"

[VISIBILITY BRINGS OPPORTUNITIES. ALSO THREATS.]

"What kind of threats?"

Before the system could answer, his enhanced hearing picked up familiar voices in the hallway. But not security guards this time.

These footsteps were lighter, more hesitant.

A soft knock echoed through the suite.

"Damon?" Claire's voice, barely audible through the door. "I know you're in there."

He opened the door to find her alone, designer purse clutched like a shield. No guards. No backup. Just Claire in a white dress that made her look younger, more vulnerable.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Claire." He didn't invite her in. "Shouldn't you be with your fiancé?"

"He's... sleeping. The pain medication..." She

looked up at him, and he saw something that might have been regret. "Can we talk?"

Against his better judgment, he stepped

aside.

She moved through the suite like she was afraid to touch anything. "This place is incredible. You always did have expensive taste."

"Not my money."

"Whose then?" She turned to face him, and he caught her sharp intake of breath. "God, you look..."

"Different. I know."

"No, you look..." She stepped closer, drawn by something she couldn't name. "You look like how I always imagined you could be."

[PHEROMONE LEVELS ELEVATED.]

[SUBJECT EXHIBITING ATTRACTION RESPONSE.]

Damon felt the pull too. Whatever the system was doing to his body chemistry, it was working on both of them. Claire's pupils were dilated, her breathing shallow.

"We can't do this," he said, but he didn't step back.

"I know." She reached up to touch his face.

"But I can't stop thinking about you. Since yesterday at the hotel, I can't get you out of my head."

Her hand was warm against his cheek. For a moment, he let himself remember what they'd had before everything fell apart.

Then he remembered her laughter. Her betrayal. The pregnancy.

"This is wrong." He caught her wrist, gently removing her hand. "You're engaged to my cousin."

"I made a mistake." The words tumbled out of her. "Adrian is... he's not what I thought. He's cruel, Damon. Really cruel. And you... you're magnificent now."

[WARNING: EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION DETECTED.]

The system was right. This was exactly what

Claire did—turned on the charm when she needed something.

"What do you want?" His voice was cooler now.

"I want..." She stepped closer again. "I want to know what happened to you. How you became this."

[NEW QUEST LOADING...]

[QUEST: REVENGE AGAINST THE ACCUSER]

[TARGET: KANE BLACKWOOD]

[OBJECTIVE: DESTROY THE ONE WHO CAST YOU OUT BEFORE THE ENTIRE CLAN]

[REWARD: WAR GOD'S AURA LEVEL 1]

[FAILURE PENALTY: HOST ENERGY COLLAPSE AND TERMINATION]

The quest screen burned bright red in his vision. Not a gentle suggestion this time—a command.

"I have to go," Damon said abruptly.

"Go where?" Claire followed him toward the

door. "Damon, talk to me. Whatever this is, we can figure it out together."

He almost laughed. "Together? Like we figured out your engagement to Adrian?"

Hurt flashed across her features. "That was... complicated."

"No, it was simple. You chose money over love. Adrian over me. Now live with that choice."

[TIME LIMIT: 72 HOURS.]

[HOST ENERGY BEGINNING TO DESTABILIZE.]

As if to emphasize the point, heat flared in his chest. Not painful yet, but unmistakably there.

"Seventy-two hours," he said to no one in particular.

"Seventy-two hours for what?"

Damon looked at Claire one last time.

Beautiful, treacherous Claire who'd been his first love and his greatest betrayal.

"To become someone you'll never recognize."

He walked past her toward the door, but she grabbed his arm.

"Damon, please. Don't do whatever you're planning. Adrian's already scared. The whole family is talking about you."

"Good." He didn't look back. "They should be scared."

[TARGET LOCATION: BLACKWOOD ESTATE.]

[OPTIMAL APPROACH: DIRECT CONFRONTATION.]

[RECOMMENDED TIME: FAMILY DINNER, MAXIMUM WITNESSES.]

The quest details flooded his mind. Kane hosted dinner every Sunday for the extended family. Old tradition. Sacred ritual where he held court like some feudal lord.

Tomorrow night, they'd all be there. Cousins, aunts, business partners. The entire power structure that had cast him out.

[DESTROY KANE'S AUTHORITY BEFORE THE CLAN. CLAIM YOUR RIGHTFUL PLACE.]

"And if I refuse?"

[ENERGY COLLAPSE WILL BEGIN IN 48 HOURS. CELLULAR BREAKDOWN. ORGAN FAILURE. DEATH WITHIN 72 HOURS.]

The heat pulsed stronger, like a preview of coming attractions.

Damon walked to the window, looking out at the city. Somewhere out there, Kane was plotting his next move. Adrian was planning revenge from his hospital bed.

The whole family was probably discussing how to eliminate their embarrassing problem permanently.

They thought he was still the weak link they could break.

[FAMILY DINNER: TOMORROW, 7 PM.]

[WITNESSES: ESTIMATED 23 FAMILY MEMBERS.]

[SECURITY: MODERATE TO HEAVY.]

"You want me to attack my uncle in front of my entire family."

[I WANT YOU TO RECLAIM WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY YOURS.]

"By destroying Kane?"

[BY BECOMING WHAT KANE FEARS MOST.]

Damon's reflection in the window showed eyes that glowed like embers.

The transformation was accelerating—he could feel new strength building in his muscles, new knowledge downloading into his mind.

Tomorrow night, he would walk into the estate that had been his second home. The place where he'd learned to tie his shoes, where he'd had Christmas morning for twenty-five years.

And he would tear it all down.

His hands clenched into fists, and for the first time since this nightmare began, Damon Blackwood smiled like he meant it.

Let them try to stop him.