God Of Lust and War system

Chapter 4: Zero Point

The giant screen vibrated, and the image of the crying, wretched student dissolved like watercolor spilled, pulling Artur's soul into a vortex of painful memory. The sterile white void was replaced by a brutal assault on the senses. Heat. The sticky, suffocating heat typical of Jakarta at the height of the dry season, clinging to his skin like a wet blanket. The smell of melting asphalt mixed with metromini exhaust fumes and the aroma of street food stabbed his nose. The blaring honks and the roar of engines became deafening background music.

Artur’s consciousness slammed back into his old body. A thin body that felt alien, weak, and filled with throbbing pain in his cheek and ribs. He coughed, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. He leaned against the dirty concrete wall in the dark corner of his campus's back parking area, a place where the shadows of the buildings were longer than hope. His wallet was empty. His phone was gone. But the emptiest space was the cavity in his chest.

It all happened so fast. Only fifteen minutes ago, he saw her. Amel, the most popular girl in his department, was walking alone down a narrow alley.

“Damn it, Banu! Don't touch me!”

Amel’s scream, echoing off the walls of the narrow alley behind the campus, sounded thin and desperate. Her body was cornered between acid-smelling trash containers and a mossy concrete wall. Standing before her was Banu, a local thug with a disgusting dragon tattoo on his left arm, smiling broadly, showing his yellow teeth.

“Relax, Miss Doctor. I just want to borrow your pocket money for a bit,” Banu said, his hand moving quickly to grab Amel’s bag. “Besides, a bag this expensive must be full, right?”

Artur, who had been standing two meters away, trembling, felt his blood boil. He knew he was no match for Banu. Physically, he was just a skinny student with poor sleep habits and an instant noodle diet. But seeing Amel’s tears start to fall—Amel, the girl he had secretly adored since the first semester—something in him snapped.

The fear subsided, replaced by a wave of naive anger, typical of an unrecognized savior.

“Keep your filthy hands off her!” Artur yelled. His voice was hoarse and much weaker than he had hoped, like the sound of a kitten trying to roar.

Banu and his three friends—who had been silent shadows at the mouth of the alley—burst into laughter. Their laughter was heavy and contemptuous, echoing in the narrow passage as if Artur had just delivered the world's worst joke.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s here,” Banu mocked, slowly turning his body without releasing his gaze from Amel. “We have a neighborhood hero. What are you trying to be, kid? Batman?”

Amel turned, her eyes pleading. “Artur, don’t! Don't look for trouble. Just let them take the money!”

“Listen to your girlfriend, kid,” added one of Banu’s friends, a bald man with a face full of scars.

Artur ignored Amel. He clenched his fists. The heat in his cheeks was not only from shame but also from a sudden, foolish determination. He had to do something. He had to prove that he, Artur, was not just a coward who always avoided conflict.

“I don’t care who you are,” Artur hissed, taking a step forward. He inhaled deeply, trying to stabilize his trembling knees. “But if you touch her, you’ll have to deal with me.”

Banu finally released Amel, letting the girl stumble back. Banu stepped closer to Artur, his height towering over him.

“Okay, I like your spirit, kid,” Banu said, his tone condescending. “But I’m tired of waiting. How about this? You give me your money, and her money, and I let both of you go. How about that?”

“No,” Artur replied. “I won’t give a single penny to a pig like you.”

Banu raised an eyebrow, his smile disappearing, replaced by an expression of disgust.

“Fine, if that’s what you want,” Banu said, flicking his cigarette butt to the ground. “I guess you need a lesson on how this world works.”

Artur knew this was his last chance to back down, but he couldn't. If he backed down now, he would lose his self-respect in Amel’s eyes, and worse, in his own.

Artur pointed at Banu’s chest. “I challenge you! One on one. If I win, you leave and never bother Amel again. If I lose, you take all the money I have.”

Banu’s laughter erupted again. “I accept the challenge of this stupid brat!”

Banu’s three friends backed away slightly, giving them space. Banu prepared himself. Artur adopted a clumsy stance he’d learned from cheap action movies.

The fight began.

Banu, with arrogant confidence, swung his right fist. Artur, driven by adrenaline, managed to unexpectedly dodge to the side. The fist hit only air. Artur immediately retaliated, not with a fist, but with a desperate strike aimed at Banu’s shinbone.

Crack!

Banu let out a short yelp. He hadn't expected Artur’s attack to be so strong and painful. As Banu bent over, clutching the pain, Artur used his remaining energy, jumping up and smashing his head into Banu’s nose.

BLUGH!

Blood spurted. Banu stumbled back, hands clutching his broken nose. He fell, sitting hard in a puddle of dirty water, looking at Artur with eyes red with rage and shock.

“I won!” Artur yelled, panting. A rush of euphoria coursed through his veins. Amel covered her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief.

However, the victory lasted less than a second.

“Attack him, you idiots!” Banu roared from the ground, his voice muffled by the blood.

Banu's three friends, who had only been watching, now moved quickly. Artur hadn’t even managed to turn around before he felt the first impact.

The bald man kicked Artur’s back with full force. Artur was thrown forward, hitting the alley wall hard. Pain shot through his ribs. Before he could breathe, another blow landed on his temple.

CRASH!

Artur fell to the ground, his vision blurred. His head was ringing. He tried to get up, but his legs didn’t respond. All he could see were the shadows of approaching boots.

“How dare you touch our boss, huh?” the Bald Man growled, his voice sounding distant.

The attacks came relentlessly. They were no longer fighting; they were just venting their anger. Kicks landed on his stomach, chest, and face. Artur curled up, trying to shield his head with his arms. He coughed up blood. The pain was so real, so sharp, that it erased all the fear and euphoria he had felt before.

This wasn't a movie. This was reality. And reality was brutal. He was too weak.

“Take all his money!” ordered Banu, who was now getting up, clutching his bleeding nose.

One of the thugs searched Artur’s pants pockets. His wallet was forcibly taken, its contents handed to Banu. Banu quickly counted the crumpled money, snorting in disgust.

“Only this much? You poor student!” Banu spat in Artur’s face. The thick spittle landed right in Artur’s half-open eye.

Artur couldn't move. He could only feel the warmth of his own blood on his lips, mixed with the thug’s disgusting spit. The humiliation was more painful than every punch and kick. His self-respect—which he had foolishly tried to preserve—was now utterly shattered.

The thugs’ laughter faded away.

“Let’s go! Don’t let anyone see the corpse here!”

The alley returned to silence. Only Artur’s ragged breathing and Amel’s quiet sobs remained.

Artur closed his eyes, trying to wipe the spit and blood from his sight. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell on Amel.

Amel stood there, her body trembling. She didn't approach. She didn't try to help him. Her face was deathly pale, not with pity, but with pure fear.

“Artur…” she whispered, her voice full of dread.

Artur tried to speak, tried to ask her to call for help. But all that came out was a painful cough.

Amel looked at him one last time. Then, she made a decision. A decision that crushed the last remnants of Artur's heart.

She turned away. She didn't say another word. Amel ran, leaving Artur alone, battered, lying next to the trash.

Artur watched her retreating back until she disappeared around the corner of the alley.

Artur's tears were no longer tears of physical pain. They were tears of hatred. Hatred for Banu, for a world that only respected strength, and most profoundly, hatred for himself for being so weak.

{Amel left. She abandoned me.}

The pain, the suffering from betrayal and humiliation, gnawed at every cell in his body. Artur struck the crumbling ground with his broken fist.

{I hate this! I hate being weak! I swear! I will gain power. I will make everyone who humiliated me, everyone who abandoned me, kneel!}

Amidst that burning hatred, Artur felt something alien. A sudden cold sensation encompassed his bruised body, as if something had just been activated, deep within his soul.

In the sky above, unknown to Artur, a blue-golden light flickered, as if a cosmic entity had just found the perfect plaything.

Artur screamed internally, a bitter promise filled with vengeance.

{I will return. And when I return, this world will be mine!}