Chapter 51 Arathus : The God Of Underworld

----[One Month Earlier]

'What's this?', I thought as I sat up in the hospital room. The pungent smell of antiseptics invaded my nostrils as I removed the cotton from my ears and nose.

My mind was foggy with confusion as I surveyed the room. The machines were shut down, and the sheets were draped over my body. But it wasn't my body. The atmosphere, surroundings, and even the body I was in were unfamiliar to me.

Suddenly, the sound of plates crashing snapped my attention to the door. A nurse entered, holding a notepad and a syringe. Her expression of fear only added to my confusion.

"Y-yo-you a-re alive?" she stuttered, her voice laced with disbelief.

Realization dawned on me. I died. My head was torn apart from my body, and there was no way a minor god like me could survive such an injury. But then, a thought struck me. Did my soul get transferred to a different body?

As the nurse was about to scream, I used my soul force to make myself comfortable with the new body. My veins bulged with power, and my eyes turned red as my aura engulfed the room, leaving the nurse gasping for air.

"Look lady, I'm no villain," I said calmly as I stood up, shedding the sheets that covered my naked body.

"And I don't want to hurt you. It's best if you forget that I even existed." With a tap of my index finger on her forehead, I altered her memories, leaving her unconscious. When she awoke, she would have no memory of my presence.

"Either it's the body, or perhaps the unsettling ambience that gives me this eerie feeling," I mumbled.

I could sense the threads of fate, but most of them led to just two individuals. The threads of destiny come in various types, distinguished under two categories.

The threads of life, also known as the threads of fortune, as the name implies, if they are linked to a person, they are destined to thrive in anything.

The threads of death, also known as the threads of misfortune, as the name suggests, are the opposite, and they compel a person to their demise, regardless of the consequences.

In my world, there were no threads of life or death; they were just fabricated techniques used by assassins to spy on someone. But in this case, these threads are several times stronger, with a massive presence, and they are definitely natural.

"Only the realm of fiction can have the threads of fate, but no soul from the reality realm can enter the fiction realm, and vice versa," I muttered.

'This doesn't make sense,' I thought to myself.

I picked up the nurse in my arms and gently laid her back down on the bed.

The only thing that left me in awe was the massive amount of soul force present in this world.

I strode up to the mirror, inside the chamber filled with rows of bodies. It all made sense now. I had been revived in a body that had a gaping hole in its left chest.

In reality, all theories based on the assumptions of the use of energy in our surroundings were mere fabrications. Our body is capable of anything, it's our mind we have to trick.

I sensed the energy in my surroundings, reversed its flow, and formed a new core over the course of five minutes.

The body started regenerating at an alarming pace. The once-white and brittle hair regained its lustrous black hue. The loose skin, a sign of aging, became tight and supple, and the dead cells were pushed out of the skin.

My irises transformed into a vertical slit and regained their golden hue. My hair grew long, reaching the length of my waist. My muscles reformed and my posture became refined.

"I must acquire some clothes," I declared. As if on cue, a guard arrived to make his rounds.

Their soul energy was pitifully weak.

If my core was a raging inferno, theirs were but feeble embers of a spent match.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his gaze locking onto me. His attire fit me like a glove, his brawny frame in stark contrast to my slender build. Nevertheless, I will make do with his attire.

"Pardon me, good sir, but it appears I have found myself in want of some clothes. Might I borrow yours?" I asked, a sly smile playing upon my lips.

In response, he withdrew a taser as he looked at the nurse lying on the bed, ready to strike.

"Sigh... 'Tis but a misunderstanding. I assure you, I have no intention of harming such a beautiful lady. I hold women in the highest esteem, but, men do not merit such regard," I explained.

"What-" he began, but before he could finish, I snapped my fingers, transforming his very being into liquid. The water cascaded down, drenching everything in the room.

"Apologies for the inconvenience, good sir. I fear I have soaked your clothes," I said as I donned his damp uniform, slipping his ID around my neck.

"Now, now. I must acquire funds and lodging," I mused, slipping out of the building, and concealing myself from view.

The hospital loomed like a fortress for the detained, its isolation a stark reminder of the fate that awaited those within.

From its vantage point, I could see the city sprawled out in the distance, a mosaic of buildings and blocks that twinkled in the light.

Inside the hospital, I found myself surrounded by archaic equipment that was a testament to a bygone era. The 90s may have passed, but these machines seemed stuck in time, a relic of a different age.

After hours of walking on the desolate road flanked by barren lands, I heard the rumble of an engine in the distance. The sound grew louder, and I could discern the throaty roar of a classic Dodge.

I strode confidently to the centre of the road, determined to halt the oncoming car. The driver, however, had other plans and showed no indication of slowing down.

The vehicle screeched to a halt just meters from me, the sound of the tires against the road deafening in its abruptness.

The windows of the car rolled down, and my eyes met with those of a breathtakingly beautiful woman in her twenties. Her hair was jet black, her earrings glimmered like gold, and her eyes were as dark as the night sky.

I couldn't help but think to myself, 'Looks like I've found my dinner.'

"Do you have a death wish? Don't just step in front of someone's car like that, you drunkard!", before I could speak, she snapped at me, her voice tinged with anger.

Her foot pressed down on the gas pedal, the gear still in neutral, a clear warning for me to move out of the way.

"I am really sorry ma'am but you see that city in front of you, I just received a news that my brother is in deep trouble, and rarely there is someone who would be ready to give me a lift this late at night", I said.

"Do not worry I work in the detention infirmary just in the direction where you came from", I said showing her the ID I was wearing hiding the photo with my finger.

She fell in thought for a second before she said, "Fine, get in".

"I really appreciate your help ma'am", I said as I walked to the passenger side and opened the gate of the car taking a seat beside her.

"You smell unusual", she said.

"Ah, but you know what they say, unusual is the new sexy", I replied, flashing her a grin.

"You don't seem like someone who needs help", she said.

"I tend to hide my pain", I responded and added, "Pretty bold of you to give an unknown person a lift this late at night. I have to say, I'm really glad you stopped to pick me up", I said, my voice low and seductive.

"I can't let anyone get hurt on my watch", she said.

"Oh? So you're just being a good Samaritan, huh?", I said.

"It's my work", she said bringing out her ID from the glove box and showing it to me. She was a federal agent.

'A royal dinner!', I thought.