Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

"Parker!" she called out, then stopped short as the full weight of his transformed presence hit her. She steadied herself, then continued with professional determination. "We have a problem. Tessa—" She held up her phone, showing news headlines and official documents. "Her family is forcing her into an arranged marriage. The ceremony is set for tomorrow."

For the first time since his ascension, something flickered behind Parker's cosmic gaze. Not the old passionate fury, but something colder and far more dangerous.

"Explain," he said, and the single word carried enough authority to make reality itself pay attention.

Helena stepped forward, her expression carrying the weight of bad news delivered with professional precision.

"After calling Tessa back from her 'travels' (Parker's side), the Wilders and Ashfords reached an arrangement. A marriage alliance between their young generations." She paused, consulting her notes. "Given their histories and social standing, Tessa Wilder and Aleric Ashford were deemed the perfect candidates for this union."

Parker's cosmic gaze remained fixed on her, waiting for the details that would explain why this concerned him.

"In the span of the last week, Tessa's grandfather—the only family member who supported her independence—mysteriously fell ill. Without his protection, the rest of the family moved quickly."

Helena's voice carried a note of grim efficiency. "The engagement ceremony is tomorrow."

Something flickered behind Parker's eyes for a moment—not the old passionate concern, but a cold analytical assessment that somehow felt more dangerous.

"Tessa commands power of the Immortal Tier," he intoned, his voice resonating with the weight of absolute truth. "Her dominion over the temporal streams should render confinement a mere inconvenience. Yet she does not depart from their grasp." His voice had that intone of the divine no his normal speech.

Anyway...

The cosmic tapestry of possibilities unfolded before his enhanced perception with crystalline precision.

Either an entity of superior might held her in corporeal bondage—a statistical improbability given her ascended state—or leverage was being applied through bonds of affection she dare not sever.

"Does the entirety of her bloodline conspire in this transgression?" Parker inquired, each word measured and carrying the gravity of divine judgment. "Or does some greater architect orchestrate these machinations from beyond mortal perception?"

He turned to Nyxavere, whose omniscient awareness should have provided immediate answers. Instead, his daughter shook her head with visible frustration.

"There are strings of Fate woven around both the Wilder and Ashford households that block my sight," she admitted. "Something—or someone—with power approaching yours is actively preventing observation."

Parker exhaled, a sound that carried the weight of cosmic lamentation.

Once more, the burden of mortal folly fell upon his shoulders. The very beings for whom he had surrendered fragments of his essence, diminished his divine nature, and bound himself to the chains of guardianship—they persisted in their small cruelties and petty machinations.

Yet the edict remained inviolate: *"Cause no harm to mortals."*

His sister's commandment echoed through dimensions of thought, a binding more absolute than the laws of physics. The nascent connection between his consciousness and the Prime Cores pulsed with fresh energy, still coalescing into permanence. To violate the fundamental tenet of his guardianship—to harm those he was ordained to protect—would fracture the very foundation of his multiversal authority.

And ultimately stop the Awakening Era!

Such were the Existence bureaucracies he must endure until absolute freedom could be reclaimed.

The parameters of his current existence crystallized with bitter clarity: until the bonds linking him to infinite realities achieved perfect resonance, the Prince of Existence must refrain from wielding his might against mundane humanity. A shepherd forbidden to chastise the little wolves that threatened his flock—with his mighty—

How... vexing.

"Helena," Parker spoke, his voice carrying the immutable weight of divine decree. "Acquire all dominion that the Ashford lineage believes they possess. Also claim every asset, every holding, every fragment of influence the Wilder bloodline considers their own." He paused, his cosmic perception expanding to encompass the full scope of necessary action. "Nay—extend this acquisition to encompass all Five Families. Let their illusion of ownership be rendered unto dust."

Helena nodded without surprise. Since Parker had shared the Infinity Equivalent Exchange system with five individuals—Nyxavere, Maya, herself, Cassidy, and Seoryeon—such acquisitions had become routine. The ability to purchase anything instantly, with automatic profit multiplication, was how they'd acquired forty-two Prime Cores in record time.

Only two Cores remained unclaimed.

"By my will and Existence authority," Helena intoned with reverence, "it shall be accomplished, Your Highness."

Parker's gaze swept across the assembly of his blood and chosen, his determination crystallizing into inevitability itself.

"When the sun next rises, we shall manifest before the Wilder estate," he proclaimed, each word reverberating with the promise of cosmic resolution.

The words carried the promise of resolution—whether through negotiation or something far more permanent remained to be seen.

But one thing was certain: the Five Families were about to learn what happened when they interfered with someone under the protection of the Prince of Existence.

Even if that protection now came wrapped in the cold efficiency of cosmic authority rather than passionate human love.

****

The grand hall of the mansion felt smaller with so many divine champions gathered within its walls. Heroes from across pantheons had assembled—beings who had once been worshipped as gods themselves, now reduced to discussing their survival in hushed, desperate tones.

At the center of their circle lay Hercules, his divine form broken in ways that shouldn't have been possible. His legendary strength meant nothing now; his body was a map of impossible injuries that refused to heal properly. Each breath came with visible effort, and his eyes held the hollow stare of someone who had looked into the face of absolute power and found himself utterly wanting.

Chione stood with regal authority, her ice-white hair reflecting the tension in the room. Beside her, Perseus gripped his shield tighter than necessary, the polished bronze surface showing the worried faces of assembled champions.

"Enough," Chione declared, her voice carrying the chill of winter itself. "This has gone too far. Parker Black Nyxlith attacked our brother without provocation, nearly caused a massacre in Manhattan, and murdered Ma'at in cold blood." Her eyes swept across the gathering. "We cannot allow this to continue."