Chapter 8 - Chapter 8: The Goddess.

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N/B : Yoy!! Guys Don't forget to check my other works : [ Shadow Monarch × Harry Potter].

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NOTE :

My dear readers before you get confused or might not understand. Well truly the Mc chose the world by himself but somehow in this story The System would manipulate his memory so now the Mc is just going to live as he knew nothing about what happened in this world.

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Third POV:

Akai stood frozen at the threshold of the chamber, his boots rooted to the cold, uneven stone as if they had been bolted there. His lips, slightly chapped from the dry, recycled air of the upper levels, were parted in a silent, arrested gasp. The breath in his chest was caught, a prisoner behind his ribs, held captive not by fear, but by a sheer, overwhelming sensory assault. The vast green-lit hall stretched before him, an impossible cavern hewn from the very bowels of Impel Down, its dimensions defying logic. The air hummed with a strange, ancient energy, a palpable thrum that vibrated through the soles of his feet and set his teeth on edge. It was a place of power and profound wrongness, a cathedral dedicated to despair. It had left him, a man rarely at a loss, utterly speechless.

But what truly robbed him of words, what carved the air from his lungs and stilled the very beat of his heart, was not the chamber itself—

It was her.

Standing in the center of that impossible place, a lone, defiant figure amidst the eerie glow, she turned. It was a movement of such effortless, liquid grace that his vision nearly failed him, the edges darkening as if his brain could not process the input. The green light seemed to worship her, caressing her form, making her the absolute focal point of the entire sprawling dungeon.

Her beauty was not something that could be put into words; it was a concept, a fundamental truth that made a mockery of language. No poet, no bard, no artist in all of history could have captured the essence of what stood before him. Her form seemed sculpted not by hands, but by gods themselves, each curve so devastatingly perfect it felt as though the universe had bent its own immutable laws just for her, creating a singular exception to mortality. Long, raven-black hair flowed like liquid silk, a cascade of darkness that shimmered with hidden depths under the eerie green luminescence, framing a face too divine, too flawlessly composed for mere mortals to behold without feeling a profound, aching inadequacy. Her eyes, even from this distance, burned with an intoxicating, dangerous blend of imperious pride and deep, knowing allure, her lashes so long and dark they swept against her cheeks like delicate daggers. Her lips—full, sinfully red, impossibly tempting—looked as though they had not been born but painted by sin itself, a promise of every forbidden pleasure.

Her very body seemed to radiate a heat that cut through the dungeon's chill, an aura of pure seduction: her skin was flawless, like polished ivory, smooth and glowing with an inner light even in the damp, filthy gloom of the prison. Every minute movement was an exercise in pure, predatory elegance, her hips swaying with a natural, unassailable dominion over the space around her, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was proudly, defiantly alive, as though daring the world to bow before her. She wore clothes that clung to her in all the right places, fabric that seemed both a tribute and a taunt, leaving just enough to the imagination to enslave it utterly, while promising sweet damnation to anyone foolish enough to look away.

Akai's mouth hung open, dry. He was no fool, no untested boy easily swayed by a pretty face; he had seen the world in all its gritty, brutal glory. But this sight, this woman, this presence, nearly shattered his hardened composure. It was like staring into the sun—beautiful, awe-inspiring, and utterly destructive.

When at last he gathered his voice, scraping it from the depths of his stunned silence, he muttered with a half-smirk that felt feeble even on his own lips, a desperate attempt to anchor himself with bravado:

"Well…my lady, the only thing I would say is—even Michelangelo would never think of a creature like you."

He straightened his back, forcing a casual confidence into his posture, letting his grin widen into something more familiar, a shield against her overwhelming radiance.

"Surely,women envy your beauty."

The goddess tilted her head, a slow, considered motion. Her lips, those sin-painted lips, curved into a sly, knowing smile that reached her dazzling eyes. Her voice, when it came, was velvet laced with a subtle, thrilling poison, low and seductive, each syllable a carefully placed note in a symphony designed to enthrall:

"Flattery…from a man bold enough to look at me like that? Tell me… do you always gamble with fire, stranger?"

Before Akai could shape a reply, could even begin to formulate a thought that wasn't entirely consumed by her, a grating, arrogant voice shattered the charged moment.

"Oi! What are you doing here?"

The chief warden, Hannyabal, towering and insufferably smug, stomped into view from a side passage, his nose perpetually in the air as if smelling his own future greatness. His gaze, full of self-importance, flicked toward Akai with immediate, undisguised irritation. "Didn't I tell you to bring the sake for our beautiful guest?" he barked, the order dripping with condescension.

Akai blinked once, a slow, deliberate motion. Then he tilted his head lazily, his earlier smirk sharpening into a blade's edge, his eyes glinting with cold amusement.

"Pardon?Do you see me as your slave… or your pet?"

The words, delivered with icy, precise clarity, cut through the chamber's humid air like a whip-crack. They hung there, stark and challenging.

The warden froze mid-step, his eyes widening in pure, unadulterated shock. The goddess herself blinked, truly stunned for a single, fleeting heartbeat. Neither of them, it was abundantly clear, had expected anyone—least of all a lowly, disguised guardian—to speak to the chief warden with such blatant, disrespectful defiance. The silence that followed thickened until it was a physical weight, until even the flickering torches in their sconces seemed to stutter in their dance.

Akai rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture of dry, self-aware irony, and muttered under his breath,

"Oh fuck me…"

The silence shattered explosively as Hannyabal stormed forward, his face purpling with rage, veins bulging grotesquely on his temples. "HOW DARE YOU talk to the future warden like this?!" he roared, spittle flying from his lips.

He raised his weapon, a foolish, telegraphed movement, ready to strike down this insolent fool where he stood.

But Akai was already moving. He was a blur of controlled motion.

In a fraction of a second, his fist shot forward, a piston of pure force. It crashed into Hannyabal's jaw with a bone-shattering, visceral crunch that echoed like a crack of thunder in the enclosed space. The impact was brutal and absolute, sending the man sprawling violently across the rough chamber floor. He rolled over himself like a discarded ragdoll, limbs flailing, before crashing into the far wall with a dull, heavy thud. The torchlight nearby flickered violently from the shockwave of the motion, and a vivid, ugly smear of blood decorated the ancient stone where he slid down into an unconscious heap.

The goddess's eyes widened ever so slightly, her perfect lips parting in a silent 'o' of surprise. Even she, with her immense power and experience, hadn't expected such raw speed, such audacious violence from this enigmatic stranger.

Akai exhaled, a short, sharp puff of air, and rubbed his knuckles again, feeling the satisfying throb of impact.

"…I think I made a mistake."

He turned his gaze back toward her, the green light catching the sharp planes of his face. He tilted his head with a mock, theatrical civility.

"Will you say something?'Cause I don't want to hit a woman. It's not very gentleman-like."

She recovered her composure in an instant, the surprise melting away into a cool, assessing expression. She smirked, her eyes narrowing into slits of amused calculation, her tone laced with a blend of seduction and razor-sharpness.

"You surely do not work for the Government…nor do you work here."

Akai grinned, a flash of white in the gloom.

"Bingo,my lady."

Then his voice softened, his eyes glinting with a perceptive light that saw far more than just her beauty.

"You don't seem innocent either."

For a brief, unguarded moment, the goddess was caught off guard. Her mask of seductive control slipped just a fraction. He wasn't just bold and strong; he was sharp. Smart enough to see through her act, to perceive the steel beneath the silk.

Her expression hardened, a flicker of genuine authority replacing the playful allure as she replied, her voice gaining an edge of imperial command, "That's not your business. Just keep away from my husband."

Akai raised his brows, mocking lightly, his tone deliberately playful, needling her:

"Hoy,hoy… it's not like I'll fuck you here. But tell me—how can a woman that damn beautiful be married at such a young age?"

He was about to continue his teasing line of questioning, to push further, when he sensed movement from the corner of his eye—Hannyabal groaning, stirring, about to rise again and become a problem once more.

But before he could act, the goddess struck.

It was breathtaking. Her leg moved like a coil of lightning, sweeping high into the air with impossible grace and crashing down on Hannyabal's head with a sickening crack that echoed like a second thunderclap in the chamber. The sheer, brutal power of her kick forced the very ground to tremble, a testament to the monstrous strength contained within her sublime form. The man collapsed, utterly and completely unconscious, with no chance of resistance, no moment of awareness.

Akai froze, his own body tensing as he watched this devastating display of elegance and brutality combined into one seamless, terrifying motion. Her aura, the force of her presence, now fully unveiled, was overwhelming—it was like watching a queen effortlessly, ruthlessly remind the world why she was utterly and completely untouchable.

She turned back to him, utterly calm, as if she had merely swatted a fly. She adjusted her outfit with delicate, precise fingers, a study in composure. Her long, raven hair fell like a waterfall of darkness over her shoulders, her curves moving beneath her clothes with a dangerous, latent grace. Every minute gesture, the lift of a finger, the tilt of her chin, carried the weight of innate royalty, the unassailable pride of a goddess who remained untouched by the filth and decay that surrounded her.

When her eyes locked with his again, they were different—softer, yet no less commanding. She spoke softly, yet her voice carried through the chamber with absolute clarity, almost conspiratorial.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

Akai raised a brow, his lips twitching with a renewed, wary amusement.

"Yes,my lady. Anything… but not sexual stuff."

She ignored his quip entirely, her tone lowering further, becoming intimate and serious.

"There is someone here I want to help.You are strong, and unlike the others—you don't want to be caught. If you ever meet him… help Luffy."

The name meant nothing to Akai. It echoed emptily in his mind. He tilted his head, genuine confusion cutting through his facade. Who the hell was this Luffy? Some other prisoner? And why did she, this goddess of power and cunning, trust him, a complete stranger she'd just met, with such a request so quickly? The questions raced, a torrent of suspicion and curiosity.

Before he could form a reply, she stepped closer—so close he could feel the heat radiating from her flawless skin, so close he could smell her intoxicating scent, a mix of exotic flowers and sheer, potent power. She leaned near, her breath hot and soft against his ear, her voice dropping to a whisper that dripped with sinful, pleading sweetness:

"Will you do it for me…please?"

Her words, her proximity, her tone—they coiled around his mind like silken chains, a palpable attempt to enchant and persuade. But Akai's expression stayed unreadable, a mask of cool neutrality. He wasn't the type to fall under spells, no matter how beautifully they were woven. Still, her nearness, the way her lips brushed the air so close to his skin, the raw magnetism of her—it shook him. It rattled the bars of his own considerable control.

But then—footsteps.

The sound of approaching guards, measured and official, broke the spell of the moment.

Acting on pure instinct, Akai quickly grabbed Hannyabal's limp, heavy body and dragged him behind one of the massive, grotesque carvings that adorned the chamber, hiding him in the deep, pooled shadows. He himself slipped into the darkness just as two guardians entered, their posture rigid and formal.

"My lady," one said, bowing with deep respect, his eyes carefully averted from her full glory. "You must leave now. This level is too dangerous."

All their attention, their entire world, was focused solely on her. None of them noticed the disguised Akai lingering in the shadows, a ghost in their periphery. They saw only the goddess.

The goddess looked back one last time, her eyes finding his in the gloom, locking with his in a silent, intense, unspoken message of plea and warning. Then, without a word, with flawless, regal grace, she turned and followed the guards out, her departure leaving a void in the chamber's energy.

The heavy, reinforced doors boomed shut behind her, sealing him in silence.

Akai stood there for a long moment in the dark, exhaling slowly through his teeth, the events replaying in his mind.

"…Huh.They didn't even look at me." He shook his head, a bitter, amused smirk touching his lips.

"That woman is a threat."

He rubbed his jaw, the smirk fading into deep, serious thought. His knuckles still ached from the punch.

"But why the hell did she trust me?"

After a moment of heavy silence, he muttered to the empty, green-lit hall, "Anyway, let's focus on myself. I've got things to do."

And with that, Akai turned his back on the chamber, on the bloodstain on the wall, on the lingering, phantom sensation of her presence and the echo of her strange, compelling request. He walked deeper into the labyrinthine darkness of Level 4, the image of her devastating beauty and the name Luffy now permanent, puzzling residents in his mind.

[ End of Chapter 8.]

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[ Well I hope you will enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it ....]

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