My All Powerful System

Chapter 76: Back at Velbroth

Lynx ran like a blur, one second he was still breathing the sterile air of the Academy courtyard, the next he was thirty seconds down the road, buildings and streetlights melting into streaks.

Whisper Steps, Lightning Stride, the two blessings together was terrifyingly beautiful, he left no sound, and no trace. Only the wind pulling at his jacket and the stupid promise echoing in his head.

Three times a week.

He’d said it to Amira a month ago, drunk on the aftermath of amazing sex, when he couldn’t control his body fully... and the way she looked at him like he was the only man in the world. And he hadn’t come back. Not once.

The number he left her? Gone. His old phone was gone... and he doesn’t know her page name. She’s not the only ’Amira’ on Instalite.

The red light of Velbroth House bled across the pavement ahead. The banner was still crooked, still swinging. But the crowd outside was twice what he remembered.

Seven forty something PM. Prime time for a business like this to thrive.

He stopped at the edge of the glow, tucked into the shadow of an alley, and watched.

The street was alive.

Prostitutes lined the walkway in layers. Some in silk that barely qualified as clothing, some in leather, some trying for "classy" with long coats and heels. The moment a man in a decent suit stepped out of a cab, they moved.

"Evening, handsome," a woman with red lips and a slit dress purred, sliding in front of him before he could take two steps, "you look like you had a long day. Let me fix that. And for you? I’ll give you a discount base on your mb looks, and you look strong enough..." She trailed and winked.

The man chuckled, nervous, "I’m just here for a drink—"

"Drink, talk, whatever you want," another cut in, she was younger, her hair was braided, gold rings on every finger, she hooked her arm through his, "30% discount tonight for handsome first timers. You pay for one drink, I’ll make sure you forget your name by the end of it."

From the steps, an older woman laughed, low and knowing, "50%, and I don’t ask questions, don’t make noise, don’t do drama. You look stressed, baby. Let mama take that off you."

They weren’t desperate, not in any sense. They were professionals. Smiles like sales pitches, hands that found sleeves and lapels, whispers that landed right in the ear.

"Come on, you’re too pretty to walk in alone,"

"You sure you don’t want company? I’m very good at making people feel better,"

"I’ve got a private room, no one will bother us."

Men went with them. Some sheepish, some grinning like they’d won something. A few turned them down and got three more offers before they reached the door.

Lynx exhaled through his nose. ’Same place, just louder.’

But he couldn’t walk in like this. The mark, the glow, even muted it would draw eyes. Blessed weren’t rare here, well they are but this place was at the end of the road, His Academy Road, and he was rare, he’s a fucking gem. The chosen one.

"System," he murmured, "help me, give me something for my forehead. Headband, wrap, veil. Hide the mark, kill the glow on my body, I’m not shitty Zeus."

[Scanning... 500 APS points. C-Rank Veil Band. Midnight blue, silver star thread. Suppresses 70% ambient glow, conceals Blessed sigil. Does not alter appearance or charm. Perfect for you, best option from the store.. for now.

Purchase?]

"Buy."

Warmth in his palm, and then fabric. It was soft, cool, heavier than it looked. Midnight blue with silver threads that caught light and threw it back in tiny constellations.

He tied it low over his brow, and instantly the faint light on his skin dimmed. Still there, but now it looked like he was just standing under good lighting instead of ’being’ the lighting.

He stepped out and walked over to Velbroth House.

And the results was immediate. The women outside reacted like he’d set off a flare. Some leaving the men there were talking to before.

"Heads up,"

"Oh wow,"

"New face?"

The red lip woman was first, "Baby, you don’t have to pay me. Not one crystal. Come with me."

Braids was next, "I’ll give you 90% discount. I’m young, fresh and really good."

The older one didn’t move from where she stood, she just tilted her head and took in his beauty. "99%. And I’m experienced. You’ve got that look, like you’ve got weight on you. Let me take some of it."

Then more came.

A girl in a white dress, "You’re glowing, you know that? And you’re not handsome the way we normal humans are. Hell I’ve never seen a Model or Blessed online who’s as handsome as you are, What are you?"

A tall one with a tattoo on her collarbone, "You smell expensive... and addictive. You rich or just lucky?"

Two of them together, "We do usually group rates. But for you? Free."

They were close now, perfume and body heat and voices all talking over each other. Lynx could feel it, the pull, the temptation.

He was bricked now, his dick getting hard. The women here weren’t playing nice. They were dressed to kill. Seduce and Destroy... and his body responding to all of it like it was supposed to. He shifted, adjusted his pants with one hand in his pocket, and kept his face blank.

’Not tonight,’ he told himself. ’Save it.’

"Thank you," he said, voice even, "but I’m here for someone."

"Who?" someone asked.

He didn’t answer. He just reached for the door, pushed it open, and slipped inside before the next wave of offers could start.

The inside hit him all at once.

Music, low and heavy, vibrating through the floor. Red and gold light making everything look warmer than it was. The smell of expensive wine, cheap perfume, sweat, and something sweet like sugar and fruit.

It was packed.

To the left, a stage. A girl was on the pole, spinning, going up, down and moving slowly, moving deliberately, every motion drawing eyes. Men threw H-crystals into a bowl at the foot of the stage and she didn’t even look down.

To the right, booths. Girls on men’s laps, their hands in hair, the men hands roaming over their body and laughing into ears. A few were feeding men grapes, some were just talking, some were already negotiating prices with their fingers.

Near the back, a different scene. Younger girls, 19? 20? maybe, they were in tight dresses, and were tugging at the sleeves of older men. Men with wedding rings, men with tired eyes.

"Come on, sir," one whispered, "just a happy ending. No one has to know. 20 minutes, I’d make you feel ten years younger."

The man looked around, guilty, "I... my wife—"

"She’s not here," the girl said, smiling, "but I am... and why are you in Velbroth House if you care about your wife."

The man went quite and followed the young girl.

Another table, three men, all drunk. Two girls between them, pouring drinks, leaning in close. "You guys look like you could use a break," one was saying, "how about upstairs? We’ve got a special tonight."

Lynx walked through it. He didn’t stare. Nor did he smile. He just moved casually. And he drew eyes. As usual.

The bar was at the center. And behind it, wiping glasses with sharp, efficient movements, was Kayla.

She looked up.

And froze.

The glass in her hand slipped. She caught it before it hit the counter, but her eyes never left him.

"You," she said, and then louder, cutting through the music, "YOU!"

The whole bar turned... but eventually went back to what they were doing as the regular customers and the workers here were used to Kayla outburst especially this recent month.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, slamming the glass down so hard it should’ve cracked. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!"

Lynx leaned on the counter, calm. "Hello to you too, Kayla."

"Don’t you ’hello Kayla’ me," she shot back, jabbing a finger at him. "One month. One whole month since you walked out of here and promised her you’d be back three times a week!"

Lynx waited until she ran out of breath. Then, quiet, "Why are you so angry?"

"Why?" she laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Because Amira almost lost it, that’s why. Do you know how many men have come through that door with bags of H-Crystals?. Even the Blessed that came last week to see her. She turned them all down."

She leaned over the bar, voice dropping but still sharp. "She locked herself in her room. Barely sleep. She just sits there. Waiting. And I don’t fucking know why."

Lynx’s jaw ticked. Disadvantages of having a transcendental big cock... and a sex amplifying body that makes women addicted after an unforgettable encounter.

"I thought it was just a one night thing," Kayla continued, arms crossing, "that’s how it works here. But her? She started saying your name in her sleep. Then when she was awake. ’He said he’d come back.’ ’He promised.’ Every damn day."

Lynx nodded once. "Call her."

Kayla blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Call Amira. Tell her I’m here."

She stared at him like he’d grown a second head, then grabbed the phone from under the counter and dialed without another word. No "do you want a drink," no small talk.

While she waited for it to ring, a girl approached Lynx from the side. She was young, maybe 20, dress black and tight, hair in a high ponytail.

She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. "You look lonely," she whispered, "I can fix that. Lap dance, free. Or we can go upstairs. My treat. I’m really good at making people forget their problems."

Lynx turned his head, met her eyes, and smiled. Not cruel, not cold. Just final. "I appreciate it," he said, "but I’m with someone tonight."

Her smile flickered. Just for a second. Then she nodded, recovered, and drifted away toward a table of three drunk men.

’She’s hot and beautiful, save her for later and I’m not taking her as my girl. Promise myself that.’ Lynx watched the girl hips and his attention was pulled back.

Kayla hung up. "She said to come up."

"She didn’t ask who?"

"No," Kayla said, and for the first time her voice wasn’t angry. It was tired. "She knew."

She wiped her hands on a towel. "Look. I don’t know what you two had, but... be ready. When you open that door, it’s not gonna be the same girl you left."

Lynx nodded. "Thanks for the heads up."

"I was gonna send Marco with you—"

"I know the way."

And he was already moving.

He took the stairs fast. Not running, but not walking either. Each step felt heavier than the last. The hallway upstairs was quiet, thick carpet swallowing sound.

He stopped in front of it. Dark wood, had simple brass handle.

He raised his hand, and knocked twice.

From inside, a voice called. Soft and unforgettable, cause she moaned damn well and loud that night. "Come in. It’s unlocked."

He heard her, and didn’t need to be told twice. He turned the handle, pushed the door open, and what he saw left him stunned.

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