Loser Man Returns As God Of War
Loser Man Returns As God Of War
Author: Gem
Chapter 1
Author: Gem
last update2025-03-20 19:37:58

The East Valley Quarry was unlike any other place in the world. A sanctuary for the damned, a prison for the untouchable. Super-criminals, disgraced elites, and fugitives all found shelter here. But there was only one rule ,absolute obedience to Davion Hargreaves.

A warrior feared by all. A man no one dared to cross.

Right now, one of those prisoners was on his knees in front of him. Losthar Milton, once a billionaire, now just another worm groveling for mercy. His forehead touched the cold floor, his entire body trembling.

“Sir, I have finished cleaning the toilets,” he whispered, not daring to meet Davion’s gaze.

Davion leaned back in his chair, swirling a cup of red tea in his hand. His sharp, wolf-like eyes studied the pathetic man before him.

“And?” His voice was calm, indifferent.

“I seek your forgiveness sire.” Losthar’s forehead was slick with sweat.

Davion took a slow sip of his tea. “Next time you add sugar to my tea without permission, you’ll be scrubbing the entire quarry with a toothbrush.”

Losthar flinched. “U-Understood, sir.”

Before Davion could dismiss him, a quarry worker suddenly burst into the room, panting like a dying dog.

“Boss! It’s Aligator and Ripper… they’re at it again! No one dares to stop them!”

Davion sighed, placing his tea down. “Idiots.”

Without another word, he stood up and walked out.

The quarry center was in chaos.

 Dust filled the air as two monsters clashed in the middle of the yard. Aligator, a hulking brute with fists the size of cannonballs roared like a beast, swinging wildly at his opponent. Ripper, a scar-faced lunatic, laughed as he dodged each blow, his bloodshot eyes filled with madness.

The other criminals watched from a distance, whispering. No one was stupid enough to interfere.

Then, a heavy silence fell over the crowd.

Davion had arrived.

His gaze was cold and he didn’t need to raise his voice. He didn’t need to bark orders. His presence alone was enough.

“You two seem to have too much energy.” Davion’s arms crossed over his chest, his lips curling into a mocking smirk. “Let’s fix that.”

Aligator spat blood onto the ground. “It’s just a small fight, boss.”

Ripper wiped his busted lip. “Yeah, we were just–”

“Three days.”

Both men stiffened.

“Hung on the flagpole. No food. No water.” Davion’s tone was as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

A vein popped in Aligator’s forehead. “That’s ridiculous -”

Davion suddenly took one step forward and Aligator shut his mouth immediately.

Ripper forced a smile. “Boss, there’s no need for that. We’ll behave.”

Davion raised a brow. “You sure? I was hoping for some exercise.”

A shiver ran down their spines at his suggestion.

Davion hadn’t fought in months. If he was offering to spar, it wasn’t for fun it was a death sentence.

Aligator and Ripper exchanged glances before dropping to their knees.

“We accept the punishment.”

Davion chuckled. “Smart choice boys.”

He turned and walked away, leaving the two strongest criminals in the quarry humiliated and terrified.

Back in his office, Davion barely had time to sit before he noticed someone waiting for him.

A woman leaning against the door.

Tall, striking, dressed in elegant battle gear. A presence that demanded attention.

Irene Rosenberg.

The nation’s most famous female warrior. Heir to the Rosenberg family. And, unfortunately, his fiancée.

Davion exhaled slowly. “If you’re here to kill me, get in line.”

Irene crossed her arms. “You know why I’m here, so don't pretend.”

He gave her a lazy look. “You came all this way just to tell me you don’t want to marry me? How touching.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Our engagement was arranged when you were still part of the Hargreaves family. You’re nothing now. Just a man hiding in the shadows.”

Davion smirked. “Yet here you are, standing in my office, speaking to me like I still matter.”

Irene clenched her jaw. “I don’t need your permission to break the engagement. I just wanted to say it to your face.”

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “And?”

“…And I don’t regret it.”

He laughed low, amused, like he had heard the world’s funniest joke.

“Of course you don’t.” He leaned back again, waving a hand dismissively. “Go. You’re freeto go.”

For a brief moment, she faltered in her steps. "That’s it?"

"You expected tears?" His lips curved slightly. "Maybe a desperate plea to keep you and make you stay?"

She scoffed. "You’re a disappointment. I thought there’d be at least some fight in you, at least fight for me to stay ."

Davion tilted his head. "You thought wrong”

Irene’s eyes narrowed, searching for any reaction. Davion merely picked up his tea and took a sip from it.

"Fine." She turned on her heel. "Enjoy your prison, Davion."

He didn’t bother watching her leave.

The door clicked shut behind her, and Davion stared at the ceiling.

“Not even a congratulations,” he murmured with a wry smile.

The office was quiet again.

Davion exhaled, shaking his head. What a pointless visit.

Then, he noticed something, a small letter sat on his desk, sealed with a familiar emblem.

Davion sat up and his expression darkened.

Deep Space Company.

The secret empire his father built. Hidden from the world, filled with wealth and power beyond imagination. If they sent a letter, it wasn’t for something trivial.

He tore it open and read the contents.

His fingers tightened around the paper.

Leksar’s orders were clear.

Go to Chelster City.

Marry Beverly Norton.

Davion let out a short, humorless chuckle.

“Guess I’ll need a new suit.”

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  • Chapter 103

    The internet burst into flames when Beverly hit post. Notifications exploded. Comments poured in—some supportive, some hateful. But Davion didn’t wait for responses. He loaded a rifle borrowed from a hidden compartment under the cabin floor.“You ready?” he murmured.Beverly’s voice shook, but her grip never wavered. “Always.”Lightning cracked overhead as the storm rolled in, perfect cover. Rain pelted the lake-house windows. They bolted up the stairs, Davion’s rifle heavy in his arms, Beverly’s sidearm ready.“Eyes open,” he hissed, pushing the door open.Silence. Too quiet.Then, a thump. Someone behind the cabin. Davion ducked, Beverly dropping low behind him.Out of the shadows, figures sprinted—black-clad, faces covered. More than ten of them.“Shit,” Davion hissed. He fired into the darkness—one shot, two shots. A man crumpled. Spray of water and dirt.Beverly squeezed the trigger. Another attacker went down.The cult had found them fast.Davion vaulted over a railing, stepping

  • Chapter 102

    The car ride back to town was mostly silent, except for the squeaky wipers smearing rain across the windshield. Beverly gripped the steering wheel like it owed her something—like if she let go for even a second, everything would fall apart again.Davion sat in the passenger seat, head leaned against the cold window, hoodie soaked through. His breathing had evened out, but she could still see the way his fingers twitched—like his body hadn’t realized it was safe yet.“You okay?” she asked, not looking at him.“Define ‘okay,’” he murmured.She smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You hungry?”“Starving. But I don’t think I can taste anything that’s not adrenaline or blood.”“We’ll get you a burger or something. Grease fixes a lot.”They pulled into a gas station parking lot that smelled like wet asphalt and old fries. Beverly ran inside and came back with a hoodie two sizes too big, a bag of snacks, and a Gatorade. Davion stared at her like she’d hung the moon.“You steal this hoodie

  • Chapter 101

    The hospital room was too quiet after Wesley left.Beverly stared at the ceiling, hands clenched under the covers like maybe if she held on tight enough, the pain in her chest would stop expanding.But it didn’t.It just burned.She threw the blankets off and sat up too fast. Her vision swam, but she didn’t stop.The beeping monitor beside her protested. Her body protested harder. But her head? It was screaming one name.Davion.She swung her legs off the bed and stood. Her knees buckled — the IV line tugged at her arm — but she gritted her teeth and ripped the tape free. The machine whined louder. She didn’t care. She found her hoodie crumpled on a chair and pulled it on, wincing at the weight of the fabric.“Beverly, what the hell are you doing?” Margaret’s voice came sharp from the hallway, just as she shoved the door open.Beverly didn’t even look at her. “I’m leaving.”Margaret stepped in her way. “You are not going after him.”“Yes,” Beverly said, voice steel under glass, “I am.

  • Chapter 100

    The first thing Beverly noticed was the beeping. It was soft, steady — like a weird lullaby for people on the edge of something.Her eyes felt heavy. Her lips were dry. Her throat burned like she’d swallowed nails.She blinked slowly.White ceiling. Blurred lights. Hospital air — cold and sterile, like it didn’t belong to anyone.She tried to move her hand, but it tugged against something. An IV line. Her fingers twitched weakly.Then the pain hit her chest. Not sharp. Not dramatic. Just this weird, dull ache, like her whole body had been hollowed out and stuffed with sand.“Beverly?”The voice came from beside her. Shaky. Familiar.Her mom.Beverly turned her head slightly.Margaret was already leaning forward, gripping her hand, tears running down her cheeks.“Oh my God,” Margaret whispered. “You’re awake. You’re okay. You’re okay.”Beverly’s throat was too raw to talk, so she just blinked once. Slowly. Then again.She remembered…Bits and pieces. The ritual. The cold surface under

  • Chapter 99

    The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and dread. Beeping machines filled the silence, their rhythms the only proof that Beverly was still here — still holding on. Barely.Davion sat beside her bed, one hand loosely wrapped around hers. His hoodie was stained — blood, ash, something dark from the altar — but he didn’t care. He hadn’t said a word since the nurses left. Just stared. Just waited.Her skin was still pale. Eyes shut. Tubes in her arms, oxygen under her nose. She looked so still it scared him.“I should’ve gotten there sooner,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.The door creaked open behind him.He didn’t turn.“I said no visitors,” he muttered, assuming it was a nurse.But it wasn’t.“Where is she?” a woman’s voice cried out.Davion stood slowly, turning toward the door — and his stomach dropped.It was Margaret. Beverly’s mom.She rushed in like the floor was on fire, her heels clacking, her face crumbling the second she saw her daughter in that bed.“Bev…” she breathed.

  • Chapter 98

    The tires screeched as Irene pulled up behind the old factory ruins, heart pounding harder than the bass in her mom’s old club playlists. The backseat was cramped, her mom slumped sideways, snoring like she hadn’t almost been used as blackmail in a supervillain dad plot five hours ago.Irene clenched the steering wheel.“This is insane,” she muttered. “This is literally insane.”Then the door burst open.“Drive!” Davion barked, dragging something—no, someone—into the car.It took her a second to process what she was seeing.Wilson was limping, bruised, but alive. Reika had one arm looped around his shoulder, eyes sharp even though she looked like she’d just walked through hell in Crocs.But it was Davion who really made her stomach drop.Because in his arms?Beverly.Unconscious.Barefoot.Wrapped in someone’s gross ceremonial cloak like she’d just been dragged out of a damn horror movie.Irene’s voice cracked as she shouted, “What the hell happened?!”“No time!” Davion yelled, slammi

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