The air was thick with desire. He searched his mind for the right words to describe the scene before him. The smooth and balanced shoulders, the slender waist that fit perfectly into his hands, the elegant neck, the powerful, graceful legs—everything about her made him sigh in awe. As always, he admired the witch's perfect figure, never growing tired of it. Just like now.
Bayonetta stepped out of the bathroom, droplets of water clinging to her body as she sat down at the vanity. She raised her arms, slowly gathering her waterfall-like hair into a roll with both hands. Her cloudlike black hair piled on her shoulders, revealing the alabaster nape of her swan-like neck still damp with strands of wet hair. Crystal-clear water beaded on her back, slowly tracing the curve of her spine and her astonishingly shaped hips, reluctantly slipping away.
"Come to Mama, little one." She winked at Solomon in the mirror. The next moment, he vanished from the bed and reappeared behind her, his hands gently sliding onto her wet waist. He kissed the nape of her neck with deep affection. The fatigue from their earlier passion faded, and Solomon's strength began to return, readying him for another round.
"That title feels weird, Bayonetta." Solomon murmured, half embarrassed, half exasperated. "It sounds kind of shameful."
"Could you play like this with anyone else?" the witch said proudly, lifting her chin as she accepted his kiss. Her eyes half-lidded, she watched him fasten her earrings and necklace. Even without any clothes, the jewelry alone shimmered with beauty on her body. "Now for the strict teacher—I even have a little whip." She grinned. "You're such a bad student, Boya. Attacking your teacher in class? You deserve a punishment. Mmm-hmm~"
"I still prefer the dancer outfit," Solomon recalled the gorgeous ensemble in her wardrobe made of sheer lavender veils and golden chains. When Bayonetta wore it, her irresistible allure shattered all his defenses, and he still sometimes caught himself thinking about the golden chains adorning those lovely toes.
As Bayonetta and Solomon whispered sweet nothings to each other, the bedroom door burst open.
Jeanne stood there, arms crossed, her face etched with disapproval.
"It's been five hours! How long are you two planning to keep this up?" she said, raising an eyebrow as she scanned the scene. Then she sniffed. Her face instantly turned red. Jeanne knew exactly what that smell was. Still, she struggled to maintain her composure. "You… ugh, Dana's already finished dinner! Hurry up and get dressed! Your foster mother is on her way—and she's already got it out for us. This place looks like a scene from Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom! Get dressed before she sees this ridiculous mess!"
"I think there's still time. Jeanne, aren't you going to join us? Don't be shy, my friend. It's not as bad as you say." Bayonetta's invitation earned no response. Jeanne stammered, her hands searching the air for a weapon—though her gun was still in the vanity drawer. With a final huff, she slammed the door and stormed back to her room, leaving Bayonetta's laughter echoing behind her.
Athena's visit had not been spontaneous—it had been long in the making.
Ever since Solomon had met with the Earth Mother, Athena had wanted to inquire about the outcome. Though Solomon was ruthless when analyzing his own nature, he still felt uneasy in front of his foster mother. His complicated bloodline ties to both Kamar-Taj and the Greek pantheon didn't help.
Athena's powerful arms bore golden arm rings engraved with classical Greek meanders, and her ruby-laced sandals glimmered spotless under tightly wrapped golden straps. Her blonde hair was pinned up neatly. Gold was Athena's favorite color—her shield, her armor, all radiant gold. Even wearing only a simple white dress, she embodied a perfect blend of purity and opulence. Solomon thought that if he were Paris, he'd hand her the golden apple without a second thought.
She crossed her legs and sat on the leather sofa like she owned the place.
Jeanne rolled her eyes in obvious contempt. If not for Solomon's presence, she would've fought this arrogant woman long ago. She jabbed a finger toward Bayonetta, but the black-haired witch pretended not to notice.
"I've known about this for a long time. You're my foster son—I've been watching you closely. Did you think the uniqueness of your soul could escape me?" The goddess of wisdom said, casually slicing an apple with a small blade. "You think I took you to see Hecate just for fun? That meeting was to confirm everything. If this is why you've been avoiding me, it just means you're shy. That's good. It means your nature hasn't erased your humanity. And I think you agree that's a good thing, yes?"
The forceful goddess left Solomon no room to speak.
She stuffed a slice of apple into his mouth like he was still a child.
"I think I can manage on my own, Athena." Solomon sighed and intercepted the rest of the fruit before Bayonetta could stab the table with a knife. He couldn't help but wonder what Athena's real purpose was—there was no way she'd come all this way just because "the kids at the orphanage missed Solomon."
The goddess glanced at him distributing fruit to the witches. No matter how powerful he was, Solomon seemed to genuinely enjoy playing the role of an ordinary person at home—doing laundry, washing dishes, cooking meals. Athena told herself this must be a sign of humanity—a method Solomon used to restrain his godhood. But the future wouldn't allow for such things. No matter how reluctant he was, Solomon would eventually have to confront his true nature.
He was already stronger than Zeus.
He needed to fulfill his destiny. Athena's plans had been in motion ever since she decided to help Solomon. The conflict between Solomon and the Olympian gods was inevitable, and she would always bet on the winning side. She had already placed her wager.
"Did the Earth Mother make a proposal?" she asked. Solomon nodded in acknowledgment.
"What's your opinion?"
"I think it's unnecessary for now." Solomon shook his head, casting a subtle glance at the witches—a promise to speak the full truth, just not yet. The goddess of wisdom studied her foster son and nodded. She respected his discretion. It didn't mean there was a rift between them. She knew Solomon loved her, and she loved him. Though she had her own calculations, her feelings weren't so easily discarded. The future would be a win-win—she wasn't trying to use Solomon as a disposable tool. She was a mother of heroes, not their enemy.
Athena left, leaving a mess in her wake.
Solomon had to explain the Earth Mother's offer to the witches—though he omitted many details, including everything involving Athena. He only said that the Earth Mother wanted to use his soul to create powerful new humans—beings who would inherit fragments of his exceptional traits: brilliant minds, superior combat ability, or potent magical talent.
Bayonetta swore—using a word so vulgar even witches would blush.
Solomon quickly assured her he had no intention of going through with it—at least not yet.
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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