THE ALMIGHTY WAR GOD

Hunting Julius

The two perverts who had been manhandling Jasmine spun around. At the doorway stood a man—his eyes glowing a fierce blue. A strange, unnatural pressure flooded the room.

“Who the hell are you?” the blue-haired one demanded, eyes wide. He’d never seen eyes glow like that before.

The red-haired man was just as stunned, but since he had Jasmine pinned beneath him, he barked at his buddy, “Get off the bed and deal with this freak!”

The freak… was Magnus. He stepped forward, crushing the door he’d just kicked down beneath his boots.

“Hey, idiot! Answer when someone asks you a question!” the blue-haired thug snarled, marching toward Magnus with clenched fists and a scowl on his face.

THUD! THUD!

Without warning, the blue-haired man doubled over and coughed up blood. Magnus walked right past him, eyes locked on the red-haired bastard.

“Hey, what’s wrong?!” the red-haired thug shouted, confused.

No response.

The blue-haired one collapsed, face-first, motionless.

Magnus didn’t even glance his way. He kept walking toward the bed, toward Jasmine.

Panicking, the red-haired thug jumped off the mattress, dragging Jasmine with him. He put her in a chokehold, then pulled a pocketknife from his jeans and pressed the blade to her throat.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll slit this bitch’s neck!” he roared.

Magnus stopped in his tracks.

The red-haired thug thought his threat had worked. But he was wrong. 

Magnus wasn’t even looking at him. His eyes were fixed on Jasmine.

After three years… their eyes finally met again.

There was confusion in Jasmine’s gaze. Her ripped clothes and the bruises on her body made it painfully clear what these men had been doing to her.

“Don’t worry,” Magnus said. “You’re safe now.”

The red-haired bastard scoffed. “Safe? You blind or just stupid? You don’t see this knife at her damn throat?!”

Magnus finally turned to him. His eyes was as cold as ice.

“You’ll end up like your friend,” Magnus said calmly. “But before that, you’re going to tell me why you did something this vile to my sister.”

The thug laughed again… but it was short-lived.

A split second later, his eyes went blank—and the knife dropped from his hand.

He stood frozen as Magnus stepped forward, plucked the knife from the floor, and gently pulled Jasmine away. He helped her sit on the edge of the bed.

“Close your eyes,” Magnus said. “Or look away.”

Jasmine still looked confused, lips trembling.

Magnus gave her a soft nod and a reassuring smile.

Finally, she turned away and shut her eyes.

Magnus straightened up, turning back to the red-haired scum who still stood frozen in place.

He touched the man’s neck—instantly, his memories flooded into Magnus’s mind.

He sifted through them like files, zeroing in on what he needed.

Then… he growled. His skin flushed red. His eyes burned a brighter blue.

“You’re going to rot in hell.”

The thug’s eyes snapped back to normal—just in time to realize what was about to happen to him.

THUNK!

“GAAHH!!”

Magnus drove the pocketknife deep into the man’s throat. Blood spurted out violently as he pulled the knife free.

The bastard dropped to the floor, clutching his neck in terror, gasping for air that would never come. His mouth stretched open in agony as if his soul was being torn from his body.

Then… silence.

Magnus exhaled slowly. The blue glow in his eyes faded. He blinked once, then turned back to Jasmine. He crouched in front of her.

“You can open your eyes now,” he said softly.

Slowly, she did.

Magnus smiled again—gentle, warm, human.

But she still stared at him, confused. “Are you really… Magnus?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“But… they said you died. On the battlefield. Three years ago.”

Magnus frowned slightly. He took her hand and ignited a faint blue glow in his eyes.

In a split second, he skimmed her memories and understood exactly what she meant.

He sighed and smiled again. “That was a lie. I didn’t die. I got stuck somewhere… and I just found my way back. I’m sorry I couldn’t return sooner.”

Of course, that wasn’t the truth. He had no plans to tell her about the mysterious system… or the world of monsters and magic world where he had survived and grown stronger.

“I… I still don’t understand. This is... too much…” Jasmine muttered, holding her head in her hands.

He understood. She was still in shock—not just from his return, but from what had just happened.

So, Magnus gently helped her up, moved her to another room, and asked her to lie down and rest there.

Once he made sure she was safe, he returned to the previous room. His expression turned to stone.

He walked to the red-haired man’s corpse, crouched, and rifled through his pockets. He found a phone and stood up.

“Come out,” he said.

Immediately, a swirling mass of deep blue smoke erupted from behind him. The smoke coalesced… then solidified.

The monster stepped out and knelt.

“My Lord.”

“Get rid of these two,” Magnus ordered, nodding toward the corpses.

“Yes, My Lord.”

The monster stood up, grabbed the red-haired body, and lifted it high. Then it opened its jaws wide—almost 180 degrees—and dropped the corpse inside.

Without emotion, it chewed the corpse... then swallowed it.

Then it moved to the blue-haired corpse.

As the monster consumed the second body, Magnus checked the phone he just took. He already knew the passcode—he’d pulled it from the red-haired thug’s memory.

Now he was searching for one thing: where is Julius?

A few seconds later, he slipped the phone into his pocket. He already knew where to go next.

The monster was finishing its grisly meal. All that remained in the room were bloodstains and a few splashes on the wall.

Magnus raised his hand. His eyes lit up blue again.

He activated a spell, sweeping his hand through the air. Within seconds, the room was spotless—every drop of blood, gone.

“What now, My Lord?” the monster asked.

Magnus turned to him.

“We’re gonna hunt that bastard Julius. And we make him pay for what he had done to my sister!”

...

At Apple & Poison, a club in the heart of downtown Mersyvale…

The music thundered through the speakers. Strobe lights flashed wildly. People danced like maniacs on the floor.

Julius sat on one of the long VIP couches near the stage, drinking with three of his goons. Five busty women in skimpy outfits surrounded them—clinging, giggling, pretending to enjoy their company.

“Julius,” said the silver-haired thug beside him, “next week, let us do the debt collection. We want a taste of that girl too.”

“Yeah, man,” said the long-haired one. “She’s hot. Might as well pass her around while she’s still fresh, right?”

“Exactly,” grinned the bearded one. “It’s our turn to have some fun with that slut. Right, Julius?”

Julius smirked. The two women next to him leaned in tighter, pressing their soft boobs against his arms.

“Sure. We can arrange that later,” he said lazily.

The three thugs whooped and raised their glasses.

Julius’s grin widened. He leaned left, kissed the woman beside him. Then turned right and kissed the other.

That’s when Magnus walked into the club.

He sat down at the bar and ordered a drink. As the bartender mixed it, Magnus scanned the room.

And he found him—Julius.

The drink arrived. Magnus picked it up… and stood. He walked straight toward the group.

When he got close enough, he casually swung his glass—splashing the drink inches from Julius’s face.

“Hey! What the hell’s your problem?!” shouted the silver-haired thug, jumping to his feet.

SLAP!

Magnus backhanded him. The man staggered, dropped like a sack of bricks.

Then Magnus locked eyes with Julius.

Julius stared back, the color draining from his face.

“Julius Barbosa,” Magnus said coldly, “You’re going to pay dearly for what you did to my sister!”

...