Chapter 114: 104. Up The Ante

“You fucked up, Miss Luckrun!” shouted a familiar voice.

Jhara’s improved Intellect put the pieces together based on face alone. “Dufflebag Doug?”

“It’s the Roach King now!” shouted a monster of a former human.

She tried to [Analyze] him, but it was blocked. She could assume two things from the inability to read his info. He had a profile-cloaking ability. Or he was Rank 3. Having three ranks on a Rankless like her blocked her ability to read his profile.

Jhara knew deep down he was definitely Rank 3. The gravity of his power was huge. It made all of her actions to build up her own weight and power seem pitiful.

But that was all the attention she could give the Roach King. She could barely look at the two dozen hardened men and eager boys the Roach King had brought with him. Even when they were a small platoon of Unregulated in their mid to late 20s. 

Her eyes would veer back to Jean each time she tried to examine her drastically disadvantaged situation. Her Chance would rise from this, but even that had its limits. And that was a deep concern. But her eyes kept sticking to Jean. Her mind was absorbed with him.

He was Jay without the dreadlocks. With a harder, sharper face. Dark skin covered in bible verse tattoos as if the irony of tatting his supposed faith on his skin for all to see made his horrid actions more pleasurable for him. He was taller. Broader. More muscular. He was what Jay would’ve been if Jhara’s bad stints of motherhood hadn’t screwed up Jay’s nourishment and growth. The red-rimmed eyes of her abuser were still misty and filled with pain and hatred.

Jhara wished she had been there when he cried. She would’ve licked the tears off his face. Even if this all ended up with her dead, at least she got to hurt him. It would be better to kill him for the satisfaction though, but as mad as Jhara felt, she knew she was outmatched. 

She hadn’t accounted for Jean to bring the Roach King and his top men. They could kill her in seconds. And she still had sixteen minutes before Jay would arrive and take back the gravity he’d lent to her.

She should quit. But that would require letting her revenge go. Jhara was not strong enough to let that go.

“Boys,” Jhara said with a squeaky, cheery voice. “I need you to step aside. There’s some business between Jean and me.”

“No,” said the Roach King as he and two of his highest-leveled goons stepped ahead.

They fucking blocked off Jean from her direct sight. It took a lot for Jhara not to go ballistic. This forced her to really look at the Roach King. His face was like that arrogant boy who showed up at the Sunday Potluck before the assassins destroyed her home and had it buried. 

But he was now nine feet tall. His body was blown up. Outrageously muscular. Biceps bigger than watermelons. Thighs like tree trunks. A strange, shell-like, and glossy skin that was similar to a roach covered his body. He was naked except for the biggest pair of shorts he could wear, which gripped him like spandex. When he grinned, he revealed ridgy, flesh-eating teeth.

“Level 35 Freakanator,” he boasted, the horn-like antennas moving stiffly. “Ten levels above Jay! At least six above any other Champion. And I know it’s true from the news because I got a Truthteller. I’m too strong for any Champion, especially little weak Jay!”

“And your point is?” Jhara said, tilting aside to see around the boasting boy. But Jean was well hidden by so many bodies.

“Level 30 Dunkcaptain,” the Roach King waved at the guy beside him. Then he waved at the next. “Level 29 Ballshooter. Your son would know them. Greg was the basketball captain. And his boy here–”

“I don’t care. I don’t care. Seriously, I don’t. What do you want?” Jhara snapped. Her cool slipped away from her.

She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t keep down the anger anymore. She knew she could take advantage of this. She could talk her ass off somehow. But all the restraint she had put on herself was breaking. She just couldn’t bear it anymore.

Before she stopped herself, her hand found the machete handle behind her back. Her pinkie finger was still off. But she only needed to cut Jean so many times to achieve the finish. Her hand could last that long and withstand the nerve damage. She would have her revenge. She would–

The Roach King burst forward, showering his men in gravel from the kickback. Jhara barely caught the blur of movement before she heard his feet dig into the ground in front of her. He skidded up fast, heels drawing two furrows into the earth, and was about to snatch her by the neck.

“Hello, Doug.”

The Roach King flinched. He windmilled his arms before slamming down, hands clawing across the gravel. He scuttled away from Jhara and back to his men like a roach.

Jhara blinked.

That could’ve been the end of her, huh? Maybe the Roach King would’ve held her hostage. But the moment he did, that would be the end of her revenge story.

She would revert back to being a weak damsel. Just like she had been nearly two decades ago. Just like how the assassins had made her feel when they ran her down, beat her down, and took her away.

And still, Jhara wanted her vengeance.

“I thought you said you weren’t intervening,” Jhara hissed as YoAnna approached.

“This is not the great event of Challenge and Change I speak of,” YoAnna said amusingly, stopping beside Jhara with a dazzling flair.

Gosh, the [Godling] wasn’t exuding much power whatsoever. The magic leaked like a small trickle from her divinity. But it was powerful anyway. Her magic made her perfect and unreal at the same time like the light and shadows and spaces became more watercolor and panoramic to highlight her.

It was obvious she owned the damn scene here. Even when wearing a frilly white dress with black pearls and gold accents like a maiden from a neo-renaissance. She was the mistress and omega. She was the decider of their fates. She was a teenage goddess. The one and only on Earth 

She made Jhara feel bitter.

There was no denying it.

Jhara was not strong enough for her revenge. She still needed help.

“Jhara,” YoAnna called. “I’m going to have you fulfill my request.”

“Sure,” Jhara muttered.

“I want you to accept the conditions I put forth to set the floor for your revenge,” YoAnna said. “You don’t have a choice in the matter, truly, but I still would like for you to reconfirm.”

Jhara licked her lips. She had fourteen minutes left. YoAnna had burned her already. The [Godling] was going to burn her again. Jhara knew this. But her revenge was so close. So fucking close. She had to have it. She had to.

“I reconfirm.”

YoAnna smiled brilliantly. Too brilliantly. Where did the scar on her face go? She was back to exuding the pinnacle of beauty and grace. Jhara had never seen it, but she heard about it.

The Roach King and his minions milled about with uncertainty, tongue-tied, their eyes absorbed by YoAnna’s magnanimous appearance.

With the sun rising, the smoky air parted aside quickly. Sunbeams came down as intertwined knots. The spiraling light curled around the teenage goddess and graced these dirty and forsaken lands as if her presence and magic were the most honorous of gifts.

“I would like to apologize to all of you,” YoAnna said grandly, her voice booming but alluring. “From the Roach King to the Tonton Macoute Leader, to your lowest grunt, and to the innocent people forced to suffer under your violent affairs. While I cannot bear the responsibility for your actions, I must bear the fault for my blood causing the leak in the apocalypse. You have powers you shouldn’t have. You have monsters that shouldn’t exist. Too many people have suffered and died because of my foolishness. Please accept my apology, and let this be heard all across Junkside.”

She bowed humbly.

For some reason, Jhara could sense that apology and her bowing went far and wide. Every junker would know of it. Whether they were asleep or not. The gravity of a teenage goddess’s apology was too great not to reach out across this scarred and ruined plot of land in Central Florida.

“Oh, yeah?” The Roach King took one tentative step forward. His fear started to melt away. “Well. Well! If you’re so sorry, then how come you got Champions ready to assault our home? This is our turf! You should be paying us for what you’ve done.”

YoAnna straightened. For some reason. She seemed a bit taller. Jhara couldn’t be sure. Too many special effects made her look like an outrageously gorgeous and stunning mega Disney Princess. But godly.

That made her kindness all the greater. It also made the switch and bait greater, too.

“You are mistaken,” YoAnna said, sounding like gentle thunder. Still booming, but more kind and sweet.

“Mistaken?” The Roach King hesitated. He wanted to retreat again. He chose boldness instead. He took another brave step forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The Champions are not ready to attack. The Multiverse Protectorate Pantheon and affiliates are attacking. We’ve been on the attack for the past hour. I predict the west quarter to be mostly dominated in the next five minutes.”

The Roach King, the former basketball captain, Jean, and everyone they’ve brought flinched in surprise. A few of the men took out their phones and tried to call out. No signal. YoAnna was probably jamming their phones.

You are reading story The Gravity Freak of Dungeons and Monsters: System Portal Fantasy at novel35.com

“The American military is jamming your signal,” YoAnna said.

Nevermind. Jhara had to remember there was more to this than YoAnna, Jay, and the Champions. Jhara could see it dawn on the Roach King and his men how bad their situation was turning out to be. YoAnna kept prodding at them lightly with her soft but thunderous voice.

“I wish to be a good goddess one day. I bear a mark now that will forever remind me of the follies of arrogance. So, I must not only apologize to you and all of Junkside but convey how much I wish for you to know I am sincere about my words and gestures.”

She paced from Jhara’s left to Jhara’s right. She looked taller still. There was no denying it. She was pushing past seven feet and getting closer to eight.

“But that would not stop me from sharing certain opinions. Doug, Greg, Billy. You silly boys. You’ve left behind your middle-class and privileged lives to join a gang. So you can feel tough. So you can prey on the weak. Truly. You are insects.”

YoAnna rose rapidly to ten feet, twelve feet, and higher. Her voice remained the same. A soft and lovely thunder.  But her words hit the Roach King and his high school peers like a raucous bomb.

No lie, Jhara was starting to enjoy this. But she was losing time. YoAnna was taking too long. But Jhara could do nothing since she had to accept the [Godling’s] theatrics to set the floor.

YoAnna stopped directly behind Jhara. The vengeful woman could feel the teenage goddess grow taller yet. And greater. And fuller. Then she heard the sound of fabric straining.

Jhara staggered forward and turned to look up. She looked away quickly, feeling unworthy.

So. Much. Skin. So. Much. Femininity.

YoAnna was covered where it mattered.

And that was it.

If this was YoAnna as a seventeen-year-old teenager. A [Godling].

Gosh. What would she look like when she matured as a full-fledged goddess?

“It is hard being in my position. I would’ve taken delight in crushing you three myself. You’ve caused Jay so much trouble, Greg, Billy. Your anger over your basketball performances and underwhelming notoriety isn’t Jay’s fault. And Doug. I will commend you for acquiring power the quickest, you must’ve worked day and night to be the first to break into Rank 3. Your fight with Jay will be entertaining to watch. Still, this leaves me unsatisfied. I really want to stomp on you. And twist you into the ground. And let you feel the pain of your feebleness.

“But I can’t. You are the challenges of my Pantheon. You are the things that will give them challenge and change, large or small. I must use you as the kindle you’re meant to be. So my followers will burn and grow and rise to ever greater heights. So that we will be fed and trained and ready for the challenges that will make you all seem smaller than grains of sand in comparison. But I can’t be satisfied with this. I must find some means to leave my own mark. So, how about a wager to up the ante? Jhara. Jean. The two must fight undisturbed by you.”

“What do we get if Jean wins?” the Roach King asked with a whimper.

It was so quiet on his side. So, downtrodden. These men had never met a force like YoAnna when she extended more of her greatness. Jhara could see why she ran the high school like a queen.

“You and your closest associates get my pardon,” YoAnna said, tapping one foot beside Jhara. The earth shuddered. Where did she shop for platform heels that looked that good while being so big?

“You and your closest associates get my support,” YoAnna said, tapping her other foot beside Jhara. The earth rumbled. YoAnna was right above Jhara. All twenty-five feet. A picture would be nice.

“You and your closest associates get to have your way with me,” YoAnna finished, bending into a crouch. She framed Jhara with giant jazz hands while looming behind her. Like she was showing off her kid to the world. “If Jean beats Jhara on his own.”

“What, what?” one of the basketball bullies said.

“If Jean defeats Jhara on his own, you have my pardon, my support, and my body,” YoAnna said cheerfully. “Best believe, I am like a great and powerful temple. Virgin, divine, young. To be touched by you when no other man or boy haven’t the right would be the greatest level of desecration in the universe. Wouldn’t that be quite true, Doug?”

“Y-y-y-yes.”

“To even consider such defilement. To even have the Chance at such. This would already be extremely sacrilegious. The many potential possibilities that you and your associates will win this. The branches of futures where Jhara loses on these grounds, and you and yours are winners of my temple, of my body, is already far too much desecration already. All that’s stopping you is a Rankless madwoman with no Skills. Wouldn’t that all be true?”

“Yes!” the Roach King shouted vigorously. His eyes were wide with the highest level of desperation any man could feel. 

Everyone around him had the same bug-eyed desperation. Jean especially. He had forgotten his father's face and only looked up at YoAnna with thirst. Which was unfortunate.

The blood of his father coating the machete lacked less weight now. The gravity of the story changed drastically.

“Very well,” YoAnna cheered, standing back up. She sauntered off, the earth rumbling with each step, shaking the gravel around. A metal creaking sound pierced the air.

Jhara looked over her shoulder.

YoAnna’s twenty-five-foot form lounged on The Flaming Mother like she was bathing in the morning light. She let one leg hang down, her foot kicking as her thigh flexed. The dress she had worn was now a skimpy two-piece outfit. Showing more than anyone had the right to see of a divine entity like her. Her voluminous hair hung over the edge and fell like a golden mane behind her head.

“If you agree to this,” YoAnna said with a dainty shooing motion, “then let it commence.”

“We agree!” Roach King shouted.

“[Suckerpunch]!” Jean shot across the space like a cannonball. He was not as fast and deadly as the Roach King.

But he was a Level 28 Dominator. A fitting derivative for him.

His Skill was a near-guaranteed first blow. And filled with loads of Strength.

He rocked Jhara hard. Busted her lip. Her teeth gnashed the inside of her cheek. Spit and blood flew from her mouth. Her feet left the ground. She hit the low side of The Flaming Mother after a short and quick flight. She pierced through easily, even if not all the way. Her head slammed the back of the trailer. She crumpled against it with an awkward bend in her neck. Glass shards crinkled under her back.

She laid still.

“I want the goddess first!” roared Jean, like a beast. “I want to be the first man that fucks a goddess! To desecrate if that’s what you call it!”

“This temple is wanted by many,” YoAnna said merrily. “This temple has one that is the closest. I am close to your son, Jean Loussaint. Your son, Jay Luckrun, climbs the highest on the temple steps. Despite the challenges set before him, he is to be praised. He is blessed. He is favored more than many. But he must climb. Even when the climb is hard. Even when it’s challenging.”

“And I get to take it without that bullshit climb,” Jean sneered.

“It would be a great desecration for you even to want to take this from your son without undergoing the trials and tribulations. As if you do not fear ruining his sacred trial. As if you do not understand the great weight of challenge and change by wanting to steal it. Such desecration is terrible, especially when there is divinity in your son. Jhara’s son. Do you not feel shame and wish to ask for forgiveness?”

“Fuck that little punk!” Jean shouted. “The stupidest shit that whore did was not aborting that mistake. I don’t need forgiveness.”

“I think that’ll do it.” YoAnna shifted, the ceiling creaking only slightly, held up by a divine will. It sounded like she was relaxing further. Like she was someone who had delivered great work and earned a well-deserved respite. “The potential desecration has peaked.”

“That means we’ve won, right? We won! So, you gotta listen to what we want, YoAnna!” cheered the Roach King. “Now give us our pardon and support. Then we’ll find a place. A big place. I want all of that sexiness as you are now.”

YoAnna stayed put from what Jhara could hear. The men shifted around in confusion. Jean must’ve forgone Intellect if he hadn’t noticed the lack of a slain notification. No matter. Jhara had gotten everything she needed from Fuzzy at this point.

Jhara extracted herself from the hole in The Flaming Mother. She ignored the wet iron taste slathering her tongue and the blood leaking from the corners of her mouth. Her hand came out of the pocket of her torn-up BAD MOMMA BEAR jacket.

She tossed a promised item to Jean.

It was an easy-going underhand throw.

Jean gaped at her. Eyes wide. Mind unthinking. Even if only briefly.  He thoughtlessly caught the tossed item and looked at it with even greater confusion. It was the crumpled but unopened pack of cigarettes. The one Jay wanted to be delivered.

One minute remained on the clock.