Perverted War God

2075 - New Metal City - 5:30 PM

As the day drew to a close, the last golden rays of sunlight bathed the skyscrapers, casting fiery reflections across the bustling streets. Below, metallic streams of vehicles move through the city like veins, their horns blending into a chaotic symphony. Sidewalks teemed with hawkers and hurried pedestrians, splashes of vibrant color amidst the urban steel and glass.

"Excuse me? Hello? Can someone help me?" A young man’s voice rose above the urban din. His pale yet striking face stood out against the cityscape. Slim but athletic, his white T-shirt clung to his frame, complementing his blue jeans and sneakers. Spiky brown hair framed his sharp features, giving him a roguish charm that turned a few heads despite the indifference of the crowd.

"Dammit," Jackson, his backpack slung over one shoulder, cursed under his breath. Tomorrow was the big day—his enrollment at Storm Academy, the prestigious martial arts school that will definitely lead to change of his life. But tonight, he was lost, all thanks to his mother insisting he stay with his aunt in the city. The slip of paper with her address had somehow vanished during the flight, leaving him stranded in a sea of strangers.

He scanned the crowd, searching for anything familiar. But all he saw were towering buildings and unfamiliar faces. The city’s sheer scale left him feeling impossibly small.

"How the hell am I supposed to find her place now? I know her house is somewhere within this area but her house number or the exact place I don't even remember, Argh, I should have took a mental note of it." Jackson muttered, frustration creeping into his voice as he maneuvered through the throng, drawing both curious and annoyed glances. Perhaps it was his striking looks, or maybe his obvious bad luck. Either way, he appreciated the space they gave him, however begrudgingly as he continues to search everywhere.

As the sky darkened, exhaustion set in. Jackson dropped onto a bench, letting out a weary sigh. His mind wandered to the promise of Storm Academy—the place where students shattered iron and split trees with their bare hands making him eager to experience it. It's year 2075 and Martial arts had evolved far beyond human limits, all thanks to Science and mythology coming together to support it and Jackson, with his innate strength, feel like he will be one of the third generation of Martial practitioners to stand at the top, dominating the schools competition and lot more which was why he wanted to stay in the dormitory. But his mother’s insistence on staying with aunt complicated everything. How was he supposed to dominate everyone when he stays with his aunt? Wouldn't they see him as a weakling who prefers to hid behind a woman after classes?

"I’m starving," he mumbled, rummaging through his bag. It was empty—no snacks, no soda. Just as he slumped back against the bench and about to curse, a voice cut through the noise.

"You look lost." The voice was crisp and carried a hint of amusement. Jackson turned, and his breath hitched.

The woman standing before him was the definition of captivating. Her silver hair cascaded down to her hips, shimmering like liquid moonlight. Her deep blue eyes, sharp behind elegant glasses, carried both intelligence and allure. Her outfit—a form-fitting blouse, a snug black skirt, and thigh-high stockings—exuded confidence and charm. To Jackson’s inexperienced eyes, she seemed unreal.

(A MILF!!!) Jackson subconscious thoughts scream inwardly.

"H-Hi," he stammered, his cheeks warming. He quickly shifted his backpack onto his lap, hoping to hide his embarrassment.

Diana’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. She was used to such reactions, but something about Jackson felt familiar. Piquing her curiosity, she leaned in slightly.

"Are you lost, kiddo?" she asked, her tone a bit teasing. It was fun teasing young handsome guys like him, especially ones that look like nerd with no sexual experiences.

"Y-Yeah, ma’am," Jackson admitted, his voice tinged with nervousness. "I was supposed to go to my aunt’s house, but I lost the address. And I don’t have any money to use the street phones."

"Mmm, what’s your aunt’s name? And how comes in this era a young guy like you don't own even a android phone?" Diana inquired, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Jenna Stanley, as for the phone, I really never had any use for it that much." he replied, oblivious to the shift in her expression.

Diana’s gaze softened, though her thoughts remained unreadable. With a sigh, she said, "I know her, but it’s already late. You won’t make it there tonight sitting here. Why don’t you stay at my place? Trust me, this town isn’t safe after dark. Thugs with martial skills prowl these streets, and someone like you... well, let’s just say you’re a tempting target." She added that last part to easily persuade him.

A shiver ran down Jackson’s spine. He knew he couldn’t handle seasoned fighters, despite his pride in his own strength. The weight of her words sunk in. "Thank you, ma’am," he said earnestly. "I’d really appreciate that."

Diana smiled faintly, her thoughts hidden behind her enigmatic gaze. "Follow me, then. You’ve been sitting right outside my apartment this whole time."

Jackson blinked, then nodded, grabbing his bag as he followed her into the six-story building. They climbed to the third floor, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell. Diana didn’t seem winded, and neither did Jackson. He noted her poise and guessed she was no stranger to physical activity.

Stepping inside her apartment, a wave of feminine fragrance enveloped him. The room was modest but nice, painted in soft pink with matching decor. A small bed sat by the window, a fan positioned nearby. A wardrobe and a neat desk with books completed the space. His eyes wandered briefly to the slightly ajar bathroom door, where a black lingerie piece hung. He quickly turned away, his face flushing.

(I shouldn't be looking there.) Jackson thought.

Diana caught his reaction and smirked but said nothing. "I’ll shower first," she said casually. "Then you can take yours. Afterward, I’ll make us some food."

Jackson nodded, dropping his bag near the bed. Moments later, Diana emerged from the bathroom in a towel that barely covered her curves. Jackson’s gaze darted away as his cheeks burned.

"Your turn," she said, amused by his shyness.

After a quick shower, Jackson returned to the aroma of fried eggs and noodles. They ate in comfortable silence, the simple meal filling the void in his stomach. Finally, as the night deepened, Diana spoke up.

"Since there’s only one bed, we’ll have to share," she said nonchalantly, her tone laced with mischief. "Oh, and I hope you don’t mind—I can’t sleep with too many clothes on."

Jackson froze, his heart pounding as his mind spiraled.

(I'm going to sleep with her? No, not like sleep but sleeping, like normal sleeping. Arghhh-, what is am I even thinking.)