The Impotent King Rises

The Cold Riverbed and the Cursed Ring

Hours after David’s death, Camelia and Robert scrambled to carry a large plastic bag to a river. Camelia’s eyes now stared at David’s corpse inside the black plastic, filled with terror.

She was afraid her secret affair would be exposed, afraid the public would know she was involved in her husband’s death, and most importantly, afraid she wouldn't be able to collect David's insurance money.

“Robert, are you sure this is safe? That no one will ever find out?”

Robert sighed, scanning their surroundings. “Camelia, calm down. Now hurry up and help me dump this damn corpse, or someone will see what we’re doing!”

Robert’s words were a spur that forced Camelia into action. The crazy couple finally managed to throw David’s body into the river, then both rushed back to the car.

*“David, don’t blame me for choosing Robert. Blame yourself for showing up at the wrong time. If only you hadn’t come, everything would have been fine... you wouldn’t have had to die like this,”* Camelia thought inside Robert’s car, staring at the spot where David’s body sank.

In the next instant, Robert floored the gas pedal and sped away from David’s dumping site.

Fifteen meters beneath the murky surface of the East River, a black body bag lay silently on the foul-smelling river mud. The bag didn't float. Two bricks and an iron weight plate, forcibly inserted by Robert, ensured the package remained on the bottom, a meal for crabs and scavengers.

Clutched in his hand was a black ring, the only heirloom from his grandfather he had never sold, not even when his mother was gravely ill. The ring bore an engraving of a smiling demon face and a weeping woman intertwined.

The moment David’s fresh blood touched the cold metal, something strange happened in the icy depths of the water.

*Ziiing.*

A subtle vibration spread. Not a tremor in the water, but a tremor of energy. The ring’s stone, which had been pitch black, suddenly began to glow. A dense purple light burst forth, penetrating the thick plastic of the body bag, illuminating the surrounding mud like a neon light at the bottom of hell.

David’s spirit felt forcibly pulled into a strange, unfamiliar dimension. All he could see in this dimension was blackness.

“I…” David blinked his eyes, trying to remember something. “Didn’t I die? Is this the Spirit Realm?” David tried to turn his body, but he saw nothing around him except total darkness.

“Where am I?” David muttered.

Suddenly, an old man’s voice—hoarse, like the scraping of two gravestones, yet thick with mockery—spoke.

“Pathetic… You are truly pathetic.”

David’s eyes widened. The old man’s voice felt incredibly familiar. His body—or perhaps his spirit, David wasn't sure how to define himself right now—was suddenly pulled into an empty, gray dimension. Before him, a plume of purple smoke materialized into the figure of a hunched old man wearing ragged robes and a cunning grin.

*“Grandfather?”* David thought. His voice didn't come out, but it echoed in the space. *“Grandfather Zypher? But... you died ten years ago.”*

The old figure, Zypher, spat onto the imaginary floor. “And now you’re dead too, you Stupid Grandson. And a ridiculous death at that. Beaten with your own pride trophy by your wife’s lover? In your own bedroom? How ironic! Must a Vexley descendant fall this low?”

“The ancestors in the other realm must be covering their faces in shame for having a weak successor like you, David!” Grandfather Zypher shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh.

David fell silent. His last memories hit him like a train: Camelia’s betrayal, Robert’s grin, and the trophy that shattered his skull. Anger reignited in his nearly extinguished soul.

“I... I’m sorry, Grandpa. I couldn’t protect anyone. Not even myself.”

“You failed because you are weak!” Zypher snapped. “And you are weak because that damn disease turned you into half a man. Your damn ‘weapon’ wouldn’t stand up, and you couldn’t produce an heir to inherit our family legacy.”

Zypher floated closer, his ghostly face only an inch from David’s spirit face.

“But your blood has awakened the power of the Heirloom Ring. An ancient technology we call the Eros & Thanatos System. I am the system’s guardian, or at least the remnant of consciousness embedded within it.”

“A System?” David was confused. “What good is a system to a dead man?”

“God, why did you give me such a stupid successor?” Grandfather Zypher protested, looking up at the imaginary sky in that dimension, and David could only curse internally for being called stupid by his grandfather.

“To keep you from being dead, of course, you idiot!” Zypher flicked his finger against David’s forehead. “Listen closely. I can bring you back to life. I can heal your broken body. Your diabetes? Gone. Your fractured bones? Reconnected. Your impotence? Ha, that’s the best part. You will become the most dangerous stud to ever walk New York.”

Hope ignited in David’s eyes. “You... you can bring me back? I can get revenge?”

“Of course. But there’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world,” Zypher’s grin widened, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “This System operates on the principle of equivalent exchange. Thanatos for power, Eros for fuel.”

“Explain,” David demanded.

“First: Every time you use the System’s supernatural powers—super strength, instant intelligence, manipulation—your remaining lifespan will be cut. You hit someone with the strength of an elephant? Your life is shortened by a day. You hack a bank with your mind? You lose a week of life.”

David frowned. “So I’ll come back to life just to die slowly?”

“That’s why there is Part Two: Eros,” Zypher continued. “The only way to stop that lifespan reduction is by absorbing energy from women. Sex and Passion are the fuel. Every time you satisfy a woman until she reaches the point of Soul Tremor—a soul climax—the System will recharge. You won’t lose lifespan when using power for a certain period, and ‘perhaps’ you’ll have a little more time.”

Zypher stared intensely. “In short, David: You must become a Monster in bed to become a God in the real world. You must conquer women to kill your enemies. Passion is paid for with life. Can you handle it? Or do you want to keep sleeping in the mud and let Robert enjoy your wife and your insurance money?”

The image of Camelia moaning beneath Robert and Maura spitting on him flashed quickly. The hatred was so thick it felt like it could burn the river water.

“I don’t need rest,” David replied coldly. His spirit began to emit a dark blue aura. “I need their blood. I accept your terms, Grandpa. Make me a monster.”

Zypher laughed boisterously, his voice shaking the dimension. “Now that’s a Vexley! Very well. System Initiation Begins.”

“Beginner Reward: Total Healing. Sexual Organ Regeneration. Super Soldier Physique Level 1.”

“Go get them, my grandson! Don’t shame your ancestors!” Grandfather Zypher’s voice sounded faint and distant.

*BLAM!*

The purple light exploded, pulling David’s consciousness back into his cold physical body at the bottom of the river.

Inside the body bag, David’s eyes snapped open.

They were no longer dim, tired brown eyes. His eyeballs now shone electric blue, blazing brightly in the darkness like two mini nuclear reactors.

Incredible pain slammed through his entire body. The fractured bones of his skull moved on their own, knitting back together with a sickening *crack*. Burning heat flowed through his pale skin. His previously slack muscles solidified, the fibers thickening, pumped by mystical energy that replaced adrenaline.

And in his lower abdomen... David felt a rush of blood he hadn’t experienced in years. Hot. Hard. Alive. The diabetes that had been rotting his organs vanished, burned away by the System’s fire. He was no longer an impotent man. He had become a perfect biological weapon.

*[Remaining Lifespan: 5 Years. Status: Hungry.]*

A robotic system voice, different from Zypher’s, echoed in his head.

David tried to move his hands. His rage could no longer be contained by a sheet of plastic.

He had to ascend. He had to hunt.

On the silent riverbed, the body bag suddenly thrashed wildly.

*Riiip!*

The sound of thick plastic being torn. A muscular hand with protruding veins burst through the plastic, clutching the cold water. His fingers were strong, his nails appearing sharper.

It was followed by the other hand, which, with a savage movement, split the bag from chest to thigh.

His body slid out, free. The cold river water no longer made him shiver. Instead, it felt refreshing.

David planted his feet in the riverbed mud. With one powerful thrust that scattered the surrounding sediment, he shot up to the surface like a torpedo.

Up above, New York was sleeping soundly, unaware that a new devil had just been born from the womb of the East River. And that devil was very, very angry.

“Wait for me, Camelia, wait for me, Maura... Robert...”

The water surface grew closer.

***