God Of Lust and War system

Chapter 5: The Illusion of Goddess Alice

“Fascinating,” muttered a voice that sounded like a melody played in a vacuum. It was Alice, the Goddess of Knowledge and Creator of the System, who sat on a throne made of information crystals. In front of her, a transparent screen floated, displaying every dirty detail in the narrow alley, including the specks of Artur’s blood clinging to the concrete.

“Zero potential, negative spiritual energy, and a pathetic physical foundation,” Alice continued, swinging her long legs boredly. She wore a silk dress that emanated neon blue light, contrasting with the dark cosmic backdrop. “Yet, look at his eyes; even after being humiliated and betrayed, that fire of hatred did not extinguish. That is not ordinary youthful anger. That is the fuel of an empire.”

Alice leaned forward, as if wanting to touch Artur through her magical screen.

“Seven billion humans on this planet, and only you possess this powerful 'will',” she whispered. “The will to step past morality for the sake of power. That is what I seek, Artur.”

She watched Amel, who had just run away, now stopping at the end of the alley, hidden behind a utility pole. The girl was gasping, her body trembling not only from fear of Banu but also from a stabbing sense of guilt.

Amel wanted to go back to help Artur.

Alice scoffed in distaste. “Oh, no, no, no. If she returns now, that seed of hatred will be uprooted. And if she becomes the source of his hatred, my entire Lewd Harem System will collapse before it even begins.”

Amel stepped forward, tears wetting her cheeks. "I have to go back. I have to help him. I’m a coward!"

Just as Amel was about to turn, Alice activated a low-level illusion, just enough to manipulate Amel’s perception.

“Maybe I was too weak for you, Amel,”

The voice, which seemed to come from Artur’s mouth, sounded cold, full of contempt, and cynical. Artur seemed to have gotten up, dusted himself off, and looked at Amel with a judgmental gaze.

Amel was stunned. She saw the illusion of Artur standing tall, even though his actual body was still lying helplessly.

“You left me. Don’t come back. I don’t need your pity,” the illusionary Artur said, his voice piercing.

The illusion was perfect. Amel saw the shadow of Artur stepping out of the alley, heading towards the main road, walking away without looking back. He looked angry and strong, not a battered victim.

Amel collapsed where she stood, covering her mouth. "He hates me. He doesn't want me near him."

Amel’s guilt instantly transformed into pain and bitter acceptance. Artur was gone, and he hated her.

Alice smiled smugly in the other dimension. “Perfect. The hatred must be directed at the world and those thugs. Not at the first Harem target. Don't worry, Amel. You will soon be his, and your guilt will be a delicious seasoning.”

Alice turned off the illusion. The real Artur was still lying in place, trying to gather the strength to move.

***

Several minutes passed. A deadly silence now filled the narrow alley. Artur forced himself to get up. The small movement sent explosive waves of pain, as if every rib was trying to pierce his skin.

"Damn it. It hurts so much."

He gripped the mossy wall, trying to find footing. Every breath felt like inhaling broken glass into his lungs. He looked up, staring at the dark night sky, which now felt so indifferent to his suffering.

Amel had abandoned him.

Artur remembered Amel’s look of fear before the girl ran. The hatred Alice instilled in his heart towards the world deepened, slightly shifting the pain he felt regarding Amel. Amel was just a victim, same as him. The fault lay with Banu. The fault lay with Artur’s weakness.

Artur began to walk. His first step staggered, the second was better, and the third began to find a forced rhythm. He couldn't use the main road; he was too battered and bloody. He navigated the small alleyways, sneaking between parked cars, his face dirty and swollen.

{I have to go home. I have to clean this up. I have to plan my revenge.}

The distance from the alley to his dorm room should only have taken fifteen minutes on foot. For the bruised Artur, the journey felt like an hour of suffering. Every step was a promise, every pain was a curse.

“I will never… be weak again,” he hissed, his voice hoarse. He didn't know how, but he *had* to find a way.

As he walked, he was unaware that the cold sensation he had felt earlier was now settling at the base of his soul, radiating as a very faint, almost undetectable energy pulse. It was the ‘Magical Screen System’ which had begun operating in the background, metabolizing his hatred into power.

He reached the door of his small, rickety dorm room. The room that always felt cold and empty. He opened the door, turning on the small lamp in the corner of the room. The pale yellow light revealed the chaos in his room: scattered college books, piles of instant noodles, and an almost empty bottle of mineral water.

Artur walked to the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the foggy mirror.

It was no longer the face of a naive student. His temple was swollen, dried blood covered his possibly broken nose, and his lip was busted. His eyes were red, not just from crying, but from the flame that now burned in his soul.

He washed his face with cold water, cleaning away the blood and Banu’s spit. The disgust was unbearable.

“They think… they can treat me like trash,” Artur muttered, punching the thin bathroom wall. The pain from the punch barely registered compared to the pain in his heart.

He returned to his room, throwing himself onto his thin mattress. He didn't bother changing his dirty clothes. Physical and emotional exhaustion hit him like a tidal wave.

Above, Alice watched with glee.

“Sleep, my future War Emperor,” she said with a voice full of satisfaction. “You need rest before I inject destiny into you.”

Artur closed his eyes. Within seconds, he fell into a deep, heavy sleep, a sleep that should have been impossible for someone with so many injuries. The System worked quickly, calming his nerves and initiating basic regeneration, gathering energy for the coming encounter.

Artur, asleep, felt a sensation that was both painful and intoxicating. His body felt like it was burning from within; every nerve screamed. He tried to fight back, but he was too weak. He could only feel an immense pressure on his lips, and a dizzying aroma—a mix of vanilla and stardust.

Amidst the physical pain and mental humiliation he carried from the narrow alley, his consciousness was forcibly pulled to a completely different place.