THE ALMIGHTY WAR GOD

Now It's Just You And Me

“Jonas, get in the car.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“Just get in. Now.”

Jonas climbed in, his face tense.

Magnus, meanwhile, locked eyes with the group of rough-looking men walking toward him.

Seven of them. He didn’t know who they were, but they looked way too clean to be street thugs.

“You guys the ones who slashed the tires on this car?” he asked.

“So what if we are?” snapped the bald guy in the center.

They picked up their pace, metal rods tapping rhythmically against the ground as they walked.

Then—without warning—Magnus charged straight at them, targeting the bald one.

The bald man raised his rod high and swung it hard, but Magnus dodged easily, grabbed his right arm, and snapped it.

Crack!

“ARRGHH!!!”

The sound of the bone breaking was sharp and brutal. The other six men froze in shock.

The bald man dropped his weapon. Magnus forced him to his knees, head bowed in pain.

“My brother and I are in a hurry. If you guys have got even half a brain, you’ll step aside and let us go,” Magnus said, his glowing blue eyes locking onto them.

Without even looking at them directly, Magnus made the remaining six flinch. They stood frozen, eyes wide. A cold dread washed over them—something they hadn’t prepared for.

Magnus dug into the bald man’s mind, pulling memories like files. And when he saw who they were, and who had sent them, he casually broke the man’s right arm again.

The bald man collapsed face-first on the ground, unmoving. The other six began to sweat cold bullets. Goosebumps rose on their arms.

“Cops threatening and jumping a civilian like this? Disgusting. Why don’t you just join the mafia while you’re at it?” Magnus said, voice laced with sarcasm.

They stiffened. Confused glances flew between them. How the hell did Magnus know they were undercover cops?

“Which one of you has the car keys?” Magnus asked, eyes sweeping across the group. “You slashed the tires on this sport car behind me. Now you’re gonna hand over yours—all of them. Toss me the keys before I take them by force.”

He pressed his boot onto the bald man’s back—just enough to make his point.

That did it. Two officers—on the far left and the far right—slowly reached into his pocket and tossed the car keys toward Magnus.

Magnus took them. One by one, he pressed the button on the fob of the keys.

Beep! Beep!

Beep! Beep!

The sound came from ten o’clock—just past the open gate of the house.

“I know you're just following order,” Magnus said. “My issue is not with you but with your boss, unless any of you get stupid and try something again.”

The plainclothes officers exchanged looks… then silently stepped aside, clearing the way for Magnus.

Magnus walked back toward the sports car behind him and signaled Jonas to get out and grab their bags. He handed Jonas one of the car keys.

“Listen. You go to the hospital first. I’ll catch up later.”

Jonas looked confused, but before he could say anything, Magnus motioned for him to walk behind him.

They passed through the group of frozen officers, heads down and faces pale.

...

Not far from there, inside a black sedan, Frank was waiting for report from the men he’d sent to rough up Magnus.

He sat in the front passenger seat, his subordinate behind the wheel, both staring straight ahead.

“How long’s it been since they moved in?” Frank asked.

“About fifteen minutes, sir,” his man replied.

“Why haven’t they called me? You think something went wrong?”

“I doubt it, sir. They’re up against one guy. I’m sure they’re fine. Probably just enjoying themselves—taking turns beating the bastard.”

“Hmm. Could be.”

“Nothing to worry about, sir. That unit’s one of our best. Even if the target can fight, he wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“Yeah… you’re probably right.”

Frank pulled out his phone and replayed the security footage from Apple & Poison.

Magnus had easily wiped Julius and his friends to the floor like they were nothing. But those punks weren’t in the same league as the unit he sent to Magnus’s house.

This was different. Frank had no reason to doubt his men.

Just then, headlights flashed from ahead. High beams blazed, forcing Frank and his driver to raise their hands to shield their eyes.

“What the hell are they doing?!” Frank snapped.

He was about to honk the horn—until he recognized the vehicle.

He knew that car. It’s one of the cars used by his men.

And as it rolled closer, his eyes widened when he realized who the guy in the driving the seat was.

It was Magnus. He stared directly at him.

“What the fuck!”

Frank threw the door open and stepped out. He wasn’t seeing things. That was definitely Magnus in the driving seat.

“Sir?”

His subordinate climbed out as well, confusion written all over his face. When he followed Frank’s gaze and saw the same thing, his eyes widened in shock.

The car stopped. One of its doors flung open.

Magnus stepped out. Without any hesitance, he tore the door off its hinges.

Frank and his subordinate flinched. What the hell did they just witness?

“Whatever you tried to do to me and my brother with your little stunt back there, you failed,” Magnus said, walking forward.

“Now I’m standing right here in front of you. Why don’t you do it yourself? Or are you—the chief of Mersyvale police—too much of a coward to handle a civilian like me face to face?” He smirked.

Frank sneered. His subordinate immediately drew a pistol and aimed it at Magnus.

“Sir, if you give me your permission, I’ll shot this smug bastard right now.”

Frank glanced at him, then back at Magnus.

Magnus kept walking. Calm. Confident. That mocking smile growing wider.

“I give you my permission. Just aim for the legs,” Frank said coldly.

“Copy that!” the man replied—and pulled the trigger.

Bang! Bang!

Whoosh!

Both of them froze. Magnus had vanished—just disappeared without a trace.

Thud!

“Ugh…”

Frank’s subordinate suddenly collapsed, face-first, unmoving.

Frank turned right and stumbled back a step. Magnus was already standing there—cold eyes fixed on the unconscious man.

“Now it’s just you and me,” said Magnus coldly, slowly turned to face Frank.

Frank quickly drew his pistol and aimed it at Magnus’s face, eyes burned with rage.

“Move an inch and I'll blow your fucking head!”

...