Marvel: My Genius Is Almost Frightening!

{A/N: Drop Some Comments For Me, Will You?}

Yue let out a long, tired sigh as she trudged behind Brianna, her thoughts tinged with exasperation. This child is just... too damn energetic. She watched as the girl—practically a blur of enthusiasm—sprinted ahead of the group.

Brianna skidded to a halt in front of a fruit stall, her eyes lighting up like fireworks. She turned to the vendor, cupping her hands around her mouth as if she were shouting across a canyon. "WHERE IS THE BAR IN THIS TOWN?"

The vendor blinked, startled, while Yue smacked her forehead. Brianna's face was glowing with anticipation, a look only someone with a serious beer addiction could muster.

Not a full-blown drug-addict vibe, mind you—just the kind that was easier on the wallet, kinder to the liver, and slightly more socially acceptable. Slightly.

And by "slightly," I mean only if the alternative is, "Would you rather live with a beer enthusiast or a meth enthusiast for the rest of your life?" Spoiler: the answer is neither.

(A/N: Brain cells working overtime here.)

Yue and the rest of the group dragged their feet, trailing behind as Brianna gleefully marched off, having secured directions to her sacred treasure—the bar.

At least she wasn't skipping like an actual toddler through the town square. Even Brianna had some shred of dignity left. For now.

Suddenly, a commanding voice broke through the air. "Sorcerer Supreme, are you sure my granddaughter is here?"

The speaker was a stunning woman who looked no older than her mid-20s, but let's not kid ourselves—she wasn't that young.

And how do I know? Because I'm the author. Duh.

She had long black hair that cascaded down her back and eyes so purple they could probably glow in the dark.

If you've been paying attention to the story—or at least skimmed the last chapter—you probably know who she is.

Her face, though beautiful, was tight with worry, as if the weight of the world had been plopped on her shoulders and told to sit still.

Look, if the only thing left to you by your son before his untimely death was a living, breathing human—your granddaughter, no less—and she was missing, you'd be losing your mind too. Right?

Her anxiety was palpable. In fact, her sheer aura had the surrounding air thickening like it was gearing up for a storm.

Everyone in the group except Yue looked like they were ready to pass out or pick a fight, probably wondering why it suddenly felt like that time of the month.

The woman with purple eyes wore golden robes like the rest of the group, matching Brianna's outfit—although Brianna had once again come to a screeching halt in front of a street vendor.

She was happily buying beef and chicken, clearly preparing to pair them with her precious beer.

Yue, calm as ever, didn't even blink at the situation. The same couldn't be said for the rest of the group, though.

The five other women looked like they were on the verge of either fainting or wetting themselves, their nerves rattled by the oppressive aura coming from Aria.

Yue sighed, her expression laced with a mix of concern and resignation. "Aria, my friend…" she began, her tone heavy with what seemed like worry. To be fair, she did care about Aria. Aria's granddaughter, though? Not so much.

The granddaughter was… mid. Not in the looks department—she was stunning—but in terms of magical talent and comprehension? Yeah, not living up to the hype.

Sure, she had some ability, but for someone descended from Aria—the legendary archmage assigned by Kamar-Taj to oversee Europe—Yue had expected much more.

And Yue wasn't exactly subtle about her opinions. You didn't need to be a mind reader to figure out her priorities. Her whole philosophy was simple: "Talent above all."

That was why she'd come to Europe in the first place—to help Aria find her apparently mediocre granddaughter by tracking her through her blood.

For Yue, this wasn't some heartfelt mission. It was more like cleaning up someone else's mess.

"Don't worry, La. I'll help you find your golden grandchild," Yue said without sparing Aria a glance.

She kept walking, her long black hair catching the breeze, swaying behind her like a banner of confidence—or indifference, depending on who you asked.

It wasn't like Yue wanted to be here, trekking across countless miles to find some untalented hooligan.

But she didn't have a choice. If she didn't help Aria, the archmage might quit Kamar-Taj, and that simply couldn't happen.

Not on Yue's watch. How could she let a free slave—ahem, a valuable ally—slip through her grasp? Not in a thousand years.

Even though Yue's words sounded reassuring, Aria's heart refused to settle. A deep, gnawing fear clawed at her. Something had happened to her granddaughter—something awful.

How did she know? Gut feeling. The same gut feeling she'd had before her husband left for a crusade. And what happened? Some mangy mutt bit off his balls and killed him.

When her son left to preach in China, that feeling returned. And guess what? He got crucified.

To clarify: Aria wasn't a virgin, her name wasn't Mary, and her son wasn't the son of God. He was the son of a gigolo. Life hadn't been kind to her, and now, with her granddaughter missing, the gut feeling was back in full force.

While Aria spiraled in misery, Yue kept her focus, channeling magic to trace the blood connection between Aria and her granddaughter. Yue's confidence was unshaken. She was certain the girl was here, in this rundown little town. No question about it.

"Uh… where did Brianna go?" one of the women in the group asked, noticing the little chaos magnet had disappeared. She'd been there just a moment ago, but now she was nowhere to be seen.

Yue and Aria didn't even flinch. Yue waved it off casually. "Don't worry about her," she said aloud. But in her mind, she added, That girl is destined to be the greatest genius of this era.

{A/N: Who's gonna break it to her?}

Meanwhile, across the street…

"Fucking bastard!" a prostitute shrieked, her voice echoing down the alley. It was the same one Octavian had punched in the last chapter. She lunged at him, clearly hoping to latch onto him—though her intentions were far from noble.

Octavian, unfazed, simply kicked her into oblivion. No hesitation, no mercy.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The prostitute screamed as Octavian's kick sent her face crashing into the dirt, her body crumpling from the force.

"Woman..." Octavian began, his tone devoid of any empathy, his eyes cold and inhumane.

They didn't reflect a single ounce of human emotion. Instead, they radiated an expression that seemed to look down on everything and everyone, as if he were above it all.

"I could tell you to do something meaningful with your life," he continued, a touch of disdain in his voice. "But then again, you wouldn't be remembered anyway, so just keep doing whatever you want."

With that, he turned and started walking away from the alley, muttering under his breath.

"She really thought I'd be interested in having her rotten piece of flesh touch me? Only a fool would lust after rotten flesh."

It was clear from his words exactly how he felt about relationships and lust. But ironically, Octavian was as lustful as they came—just not for the usual things.

He didn't crave the fleeting pleasures of human flesh; instead, he hungered for power. Power that could either destroy him or give him everything he desired.

After all, if someone told him that power corrupts and kills, he'd be ready to be corrupted—or die trying—for it.

Some people wished for a long life, others for a glorious one. Octavian wanted both.

"OUCH!"

As soon as Octavian stepped out of the alley, he felt a sudden force yank him into the air, then slam him back down into the ground, as if some invisible hand had just thrown him around like a ragdoll.

How does this work?

That was his honest reaction, but before he could dwell on it, a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Now tell me... is it fun to get beaten the way you were beating that woman?"

It was Brianna, casually munching on a chicken leg, looking down at him like he was the one who'd been knocked out of his usual high-and-mighty position.

{Spoiler Alert: She's about to humiliate him.}