The bald man's throat bobbed.
But before he could respond, Damien moved.
*
A few minutes later.
The street had become eerily quiet.
The only sound left was the faint rustling of wind passing through the empty buildings.
Bodies were scattered across the cracked asphalt.
One man lay face down near the curb, blood slowly dripping from his nose onto the pavement.
Another was sprawled on his back, his cutlass lying several feet away while a dark bruise spread across his jaw.
Two others were piled together against a broken streetlight, groaning faintly in unconsciousness.
The bald headed man was among them.
He lay flat on his back, eyes rolled upward, a swollen lump forming on the side of his head while blood trickled slowly from the corner of his mouth.
Every single one of the men had been beaten into submission, with their weapons lying uselessly on the street.
None of them had even managed to land a single hit.
Standing calmly in the middle of the destruction was none other than Damien.
He stood over the fallen men with a smug smirk plastered across his face.
The wind gently brushed against his long black hair as he casually lifted a hand and slid it back across his head.
His fingers combed through the dark strands, pushing them away from his eyes.
He exhaled slowly.
Then his gaze dropped toward his hands.
A faint golden glow still lingered around them, the thin energy pulsing softly across his skin like a quiet flame.
Damien stared at it for a moment.
His smirk softened slightly.
'…A few years ago,' he thought. 'I would have never expected to be this strong.'
His mind drifted backward.
About three years ago…
He had been nothing more than a complete failure.
Back then, Damien had been a poor loser struggling to keep his life together.
He had lost his job, was evicted from his apartment since he hadn't been able to pay his rent in years, and wallowing his debts.
His girlfriend—someone he had spent years with—had dumped him without hesitation.
She hadn't even tried to hide her disgust when she did it.
"You're useless," she had said coldly.
"You'll never become anything."
The memory still lingered faintly in his mind.
And just like that—
Damien had found himself practically homeless.
Those days had been miserable.
He had wandered through the city with nowhere to go, killing time wherever he could.
It was during one of those days that he stumbled upon something strange.
A book.
It had been lying on the floor right beside a trash can.
The title had immediately caught his attention.
"Fifty Steps on How to Become a God of Sex."
At the time, Damien had stared at the cover for a long moment.
The title had sounded ridiculous.
Almost laughably stupid.
He had even scoffed under his breath when he first read it.
"What kind of idiot writes something like this…" he had muttered.
But despite that… he had picked it up.
Mostly because he had nothing better to do.
And since he had nowhere to be, he had eventually started reading it.
At first, Damien treated the book like a joke.
Something to pass the time while he sat around with nothing else in his life.
But as the days passed… something strange happened.
The book contained instructions, odd training methods and unusual mental exercises.
At first he ignored most of them.
But eventually…
Out of boredom more than anything else…
He started trying them.
Just a few at first.
To his surprise—
Things slowly began to change.
His body grew stronger.
His confidence improved.
Women began looking at him differently.
Situations that once seemed impossible suddenly started turning in his favor.
Opportunities appeared, and he began firming connections far more easily compared to before.
Before he even realized what was happening—
His miserable life had begun turning around.
Exactly like the book described.
Until eventually…
Damien became something he had never imagined possible—A true God of Sex.
Women chased after him.
Powerful men hated him.
And the strange golden energy that now wrapped around his body…
Was just one of the many things he had unlocked during that bizarre journey.
Along with his incredible physical capabilities, abilities that no normal human possessed.
Damien flexed his fingers slowly.
Then suddenly, his head turned, towards the rooftop of a tall building meters away.
Damien's golden gaze locked onto a single figure lying flat against the concrete.
It was a man, hidden behind the long barrel of a sniper rifle.
The sniper's body trembled slightly as his eye remained pressed against the scope of the rifle.
Through the circular lens, Damien's figure stood clearly in the middle of the street, surrounded by the bodies of the fallen men.
But what made the sniper's spine run cold… was the fact that Damien was looking directly at him even at that distance.
A faint shiver crawled down the sniper's back.
'Can he… actually see me from there…?' he couldn't help but wonder.
His fingers tightened slightly around the grip of the rifle.
It didn't make sense.
There was no way Damien should have been able to spot him. He was lying flat against the rooftop, hidden behind a concrete barrier, with only the rifle's barrel slightly exposed.
And yet… it felt like Damien was staring straight into his soul.
The sniper swallowed.
In truth, he should have fired long ago.
The moment Damien stepped into the open street, the job should have been simple.
All he had to do was shoot, and his mission would be complete.
But then he had witnessed the fight.
Through the scope, he had watched Damien take down fifteen armed men as if they were nothing more than children swinging sticks.
The way he moved, sending full grown men flying with casual punches had captivated him somewhat and at the same time terrified him.
Even now, his fingers trembled faintly.
But after a moment—
He clenched his jaw.
'Just shoot,' he told himself firmly. 'It's just a man.'
No matter how strong Damien looked, a bullet to the head would end him like anyone else.
The sniper steadied his breathing.
His finger slowly tightened against the trigger.
The crosshair aligned perfectly with Damien's forehead.
Then—
BANG!
The rifle roared.
The gunshot echoed across the quiet street as the bullet tore through the air at terrifying speed.
Down below, Damien didn't move immediately.
His golden eyes calmly watched the bullet as it closed in on him.
The projectile spun rapidly as it tore through the air, closing the distance between them in an instant.
But to Damien, it looked slow.
'So slow…' he thought lazily.
His hand rose calmly.
His fingers stretched outward as if he intended to pluck the bullet straight out of the air.
But just as he was about to catch it, his vision suddenly warped.
Damien's eyes widened slightly.
'What the hell?!'
The thought had barely crossed his mind when—
Everything around him disappeared, replaced by a vast white space that stretched endlessly in every direction.
Damien blinked.
He slowly lowered his hand, looking around in confusion.
Everywhere he turned, there was only white.
Even the floor he stood on was white, with no building around or even a sky above.
Damien frowned slightly as he turned his head from side to side.
"Where…" he muttered quietly, his voice echoing faintly in the empty space. "…am I?"
His brows furrowed deeper.
"What is this place?"
Before he could think further—
A faint shimmer appeared in front of him.
The air rippled gently, like light reflecting across water.
Then slowly…
A figure began to materialize.
The outline of a woman emerged from the glowing white space.
Piece by piece, her form became clearer until she stood fully before him.
She was dressed in shining white armor.
The armor gleamed softly as if crafted from pure light, reflecting the radiance of the surrounding space.
Damien froze, then his eyes widened in shock.
In all his life—
He had never seen a woman this beautiful.
Her long silver hair cascaded down her back like a flowing river of moonlight.
Each strand shimmered faintly as it swayed gently in the still air.
Her eyes were a brilliant silver as well, glowing faintly with a mysterious light that seemed both calm and powerful at the same time.
Her skin was a flawless milky white, radiant like polished marble.
But what truly made Damien stare…
Was the armor she wore.
Although it covered parts of her body, the design left much of her curvy figure exposed.
The upper section hugged tightly around her chest, but it barely contained her large breasts, which pressed upward and spilled slightly over the top of the armor's edge.
The metal curved around them in a way that emphasized their size rather than hiding it, causing them to bounce enticingly with even the slightest movement from her.
Damien found it hard to peel his eyes away from them, but he eventually did, moving them downward.
Below, the armor split at the hips, leaving her thick thighs largely uncovered.
The smooth white metal framed her figure instead of concealing it, highlighting the fullness of her curves.
Damien's eyes instinctively traced the lines of her body.
For a brief moment—
He forgot about the sniper.
He forgot about the street.
He even forgot about the strange white space around him.
All he could see… was her.