God of Destruction: Living Among Mortals

Across the world, on all the continents, even including the researchers in Antarctica, who were given a freebie for the day, watched the tournament live. The tournament was being aired live on the big screen, so most people were either at home or in a guild worldwide (except for North Korea).

It was advised that children under the age of fifteen since the amount of violence and gore that was being recorded was raw.

Marcus was on the first floor of the guild, watching it on the big screen, just like the other three to four thousand people. Even the guards joined in to vicariously experience the tournament from their favorite contestant.

And of course, there was gambling. Enough to refill all the water on earth, thrice. Guards, ordinary civilians, and even Marcus participated in gambling. Marcus had his bets on Nova and Adam surviving, since Adam already cleared the second round of the tournament, while Nova was stuck inside stone walls fighting the bully.

Marcus was next to some of his entourage, who had bets going up to a million dollars. For Marcus, that was nothing but cheap change, but for his associates, it was five years' worth of salary that they wouldn't financially recover from.

Marcus was next to his associate he had known for five years, who had a hundred grand on the blue team from Nova's match. He spoke up, his voice low, with a slight smile: "Want to make a bet?"

His associate said, not turning back, and was focused on the brutality between the bully and Nova: "What kind of bet?"

"I think Nova will win," Marcus stated, "and I am putting a million dollars on the line. And by the looks of it, that guy in blue seems to be holding up very well. While Nova seems to be on the brink of death." Then, looking menacingly at his associate, who had turned around after hearing about the million-dollar bet. "So, want to take my bet?"

The associate gulped, thinking about it really vigorously. He made faces that resembled: "I want to take, but should I?" Then another one, turning back to the screen to see Nova being overpowered severely, "he is losing, but I have a bad feeling about this."

Eventually, after five minutes of Marcus patiently waiting, with a cheeky smirk, the associate responded: "Fine. I'll take you on!"

They shook hands, which was then recorded by Marcus's secretary, for proof that if either party doesn't cooperate, they will be fired from their job.

"May the best man win." Marcus chuckled at the associate. The associate then frowned.

He knew Marcus had hidden information that could turn the tide, but also knew that Marcus didn't like to cheat, so the associate looked at the screen hard and wide, trying to figure out why Marcus thought Nova would win instead of the bully.

As the match continued, to the point where the bully started to consume three crystals at a time, the associate became conscious of why Marcus chose Nova.

He looked back at Marcus and curiously asked him, "Since I am not an adventurer, I don't know much about mana crystals. But I am curious about one thing. That guy in blue keeps popping crystals like they're candy. Isn't that dangerous? Wouldn't he overdose?"

Marcus's smirk widened into something close to a vicious grin. "You're exactly right. The guy in blue might look like he's winning now, but he'll lose. Mana crystals are like meth; take them repetitively three times within five minutes, and you're hooked. And once you start burning, there's no stopping it… not until every ounce of accumulated damage tears through your body. Ripping it apart."

The associated fell on his knees forward, then went on all fours, rubbing his face, as tears dropped, wetting the ground beneath. His voice came out low, defeated: "I lost..."

Marcus chuckled, his smirk widening into something almost mischievous. "Lost? Don't worry about it. You know I was just being sarcastic. Get your ass up. I'm not going to take your money. What kind of boss would I be if I let you throw away five years' salary on a single bet?"

The associate got up instantly, hearing the kind words of Marcus, staring at him in disbelief. "You mean... you're letting this go?"

Marcus leaned back in his chair, stretching as if the entire wager meant nothing. "Of course. I already have three million spread across other bets tonight. Do you really think I care about your hundred grand? Keep it. Call it a freebie."

The associate let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over his face. "You nearly killed me with that, Marcus. I thought I was done for."

"That's the fun of it," Marcus said, grinning. "But next time, don't bet against me. You'll sleep better."

---

Talia was watching the tournament live, covering the kitten's eyes as she saw the amount of violence and gore being presented on the screen.

She was taken aback by how brutally Nova seemed to be losing and how the bully seemed invincible. She had invited the girl she had seen at the market over, as a friendly "greeting." The girl was using the bathroom, as Talia nervously cuddled with the kittens.

Talia's heart stumbled when the girl appeared from the bathroom. Every breath, every step she took seemed perfect from Talia's perspective. The girl carried this confidence that made Talia's breath stop.

Her smile, slow, mischievous, seemed to be aimed straight at her, like she knew exactly the effect she was having.

When she sat down beside Talia, close enough that their shoulders touched, Talia felt a warmth rush through her. The proximity, the subtle tilt of her head, the shine of amusement in her eyes, it was impossible not to notice.

Talia's thoughts scattered, fixated entirely on her view.

The girl leaned a little closer, her breath tingling against Talia's ears as she whispered, teasingly: "Careful... or you'll miss all the action."

Talia's cheeks flustered as she tried to focus on the screen, but the subtle shift of the girl's body against hers made it impossible. The kitten squirmed in her lap, sensing the tension, but Talia barely noticed.

The girl's fingers traced lightly along Talia's arm, and the teasing smile deepened. Talia's hands trembled slightly as she turned to meet her gaze. Their eyes locked, playful, yet electric, and before she realized it, the girl tilted her head, brushing her lips against Talia's in a soft, teasing embrace.

Talia froze for a heartbeat, then melted into it, the tension of the tournament dissipating in a rush of arousal. The kiss deepened as the girl's hand slid carefully to cradle her face. For a moment, the violence on the screen seemed to fade entirely, replaced by the intimacy of their closeness.

A faint laugh escaped the girl as she pulled back slightly, just enough to let her lips hover over Talia's again. "Focus on the fight, kitten," she murmured, voice low and teasing, "or I might have to distract you more."

Talia gasped, a mixture of amusement and desire tugging at her. "You're... impossible," she whispered, though a smile betrayed her happiness.

---

Meanwhile, across the city, Marcus lounged back in his chair, still observing the tournament with a calculating eye. More bets were being placed around him, the volume of gold exchanged making even seasoned gamblers sweat.

"Another three million on the red team?" one of his younger associates asked in disbelief.

Marcus only smirked, swirling a glass of fine whiskey in his hand. "Why not? I've got faith in my instincts, and in the odds nobody else can see. I want to capitalize on this fine day, and that's exactly what I am going to do."

Beside him, a small cluster of guards whispered among themselves, comparing their bets. Some dared to gamble modestly on Adam surviving the next round; others, driven by the frenzy, went all in on Nova.

Marcus caught the silver of worry on their faces and leaned in with a slow, deliberate smile. "Remember," he said softly, "patience is where the real victory lies."

The secretary scribbled furiously, documenting every handshake, every wager, each thread being connected to Marcus's web of influence.

---

Talia barely registered the screen anymore. The girl's lips brushed against hers again, softer this time, teasing and deliberate. Every glance, every subtle touch sent warmth spiraling through her chest. Her fingers twined instinctively with the girl's, a silent surrender to the tension between them.

"Do you… want to stop?" Talia whispered, voice shaky, though she could feel the mischievous smile in the reply before it even reached her eyes.

"No," the girl murmured, pressing closer, "why would I stop?"

Talia's breath jerked, caught between awe and desire as the girl's gaze locked onto hers, daring and intimate. The room seemed to shrink around them, the chaos of the tournament forgotten, leaving only the heat of their closeness.

And for the first time all day, Talia let herself simply… feel.