Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

Inside the first limo, the air was suspiciously still—the kind of stillness that meant danger. Not of explosions or magical assassins. No. Worse.

Women. In conflict.

Beautiful. Terrifying. Myth-level women.

And they were all pretending to be calm. Except they weren't. Not even a little.

Tessa sat closest to the window, chin resting on her knuckles, watching the glimmer of Cassandra's reflection like a cat studying a rival through glass. Her expression? One eyebrow raised, one corner of her lip curled, one knee bouncing like a war drum under designer silk. In other words: we are seconds from judgment.

Maya, on the other hand, lounged like royalty. Empress-core to the bone. One leg crossed over the other, arms spread along the backrest like she owned the universe (which, honestly, she half did). Her eyes were lazily following Cassandra's every breath. It wasn't hate. It wasn't even jealousy. It was worse.

It was "I see you. I know you. And I'm waiting to be impressed." Which meant Cassandra and Cleopatra were already on thin metaphysical ice.

Across from them, seated elegantly beside Helena, was Zhang Ruoyun—the Phoenix of Balance, flame-kissed and goddess-silent. She hadn't said a word. She didn't need to. Her existence was a poem. She was watching. With the elegance of a creature who'd lived too many millennia to waste emotions on squabbles.

Helena, meanwhile, was watching Netflix on a tablet. Actually watching. No faked distraction. No pretense. Just flipping through Netflix dramas while nuclear estrogen prepared for launch around her.

And in the middle, caught like the last cinnamon roll between five diet-conscious demons, was Parker. His aura, despite his status, was quieter than usual. Not diminished—just... wisely neutral.

He cleared his throat. "So… Cassandra. You said you'd come from WeHo (West Hollywood). The weather there's—"

"It rained stardust," Cassandra said jokingly softly. "A good omen. For us."

Tessa blinked.

Maya smirked.

Zhang raised one divine brow.

Helena didn't even look up.

"…Ah," Parker tried again, "then it's truly an auspicious—"

"Stop," Maya interrupted. "You don't have to play diplomat, husband."

"Yes," Tessa added, eyes still on the window. "Let's not pretend this is some tea party in Elysium. She didn't come all this way just to bask in your smile. Even if I can't blame her."

Cassandra met her eyes, gently, unfazed. "You're right. I didn't."

That was the problem. Every goddess, empress, and seer in that car knew it—Cassandra had come with purpose. And not one of them wanted to be the fool to ask her what it was. Not yet.

Even Cleopatra, might step in just to remind the world she was Cleopatra, eternal bad bitch of the Nile. But Cassandra? She was myth and omen, and consequence wrapped in silk and tragedy. And she didn't make random appearances.

Tessa finally turned from the window. "You gonna tell us why you're here? Or should we all just light a bonfire and wait for your next prophecy to drop like it's a teaser trailer?"

Parker subtly held up a hand like "let's all calm down," but Maya caught it and rolled her eyes so hard it rumbled the car.

Zhang Ruoyun let out a faint amused exhale. The first sound she'd made all ride.

"You'll know when it's time," Cassandra said. "I speak only when the threads align."

Tessa's laugh had the sharpness of broken glass dipped in diamonds. "Spoken like someone who enjoys foreplay."

"Oh I do," Cassandra replied, tone dipped in sweet menace. "Especially when the climax reshapes history."

Maya grinned.

Tessa grinned back.

Parker internally whispered a prayer to the Eternal Ones.

Zhang looked like she was enjoying a show.

Helena flipped to another episode and muttered, "I give them four more minutes before someone tries to kill someone with a compliment."

***

The palace driveway shimmered like a sigh, letting the motorcade glide into the heart of Parker's domain. Noctavine was waiting like a sentinel carved from moonlight, her tall form wrapped in night-silk, a goddess of vigilance. Beside her stood Cassidy and Callista, their eyes sharp and curious, regal in the way only those born to war and throne could be.

Regal, silent, eyes trained forward like well-forged blades in human form.

He expected to see Seoryeon—her absence scratched at his thoughts like a soft whisper—but there was no trace of her. Delaware still had her wrapped, it seemed.

Zhang stepped out from the car like a judgment made flesh, her long black robe flaring behind her like a phoenix tail touched by dusk. And with one single movement—fingers curling around his wrist—she pulled him toward the palace interior like the universe was on fire and only she knew where the extinguisher was.

The Origin Family heads blinked. Twice.

But no one said a word. Because when the Phoenix of Balance decided the Prince of Existence was hers to manhandle, you let her. You just… let her.

They crossed the marble threshold in perfect silence, her grip unrelenting, her aura a crescendo of storm-forged divinity.

"Walk," she said.

He smirked slightly. "Didn't know I was being abducted."

Her response was silence—again. But this time, it wasn't calm. It was blistering.

Inside, the walls whispered.

"You felt the shift, didn't you?" she said, voice low but certain.

Parker nodded once, and the walls exhaled.

"What were you doing?"

His lips twitched. "Since when do you not start with a compliment?"

"Don't flirt," she snapped. "Details."

He paused—just long enough for her to raise one perfect brow.

He didn't speak. He nodded.

Her gaze hardened. "What were you doing when it happened?"

"I did," he answered, equally quiet, but there was a smirk ghosting on his lips now. "But you're not going to say hello first?"

"I don't have time for hellos when the fabric of existence is twitching like it's about to bleed," she said without looking at him. Her pace didn't slow.

He tilted his head as they turned a corner, amusement building in his voice. "You wound me. You didn't miss me?"

"You've been surrounded by too many women to be missed. Maya's perfume was still on your coat when I hugged you last week."

He chuckled. God, she was sharp.

"And yet," he said, leaning slightly toward her as they walked, "you dragged me inside like a woman who did, in fact, miss me. A lot."

She didn't reply. But her cheek flushed.

Victory.

She stopped by a towering mirrored archway and turned to face him.

"I want details," she said firmly, her gaze sharp now. "What were you doing when the shift happened?"

"I was in the east wing," he said, tone shifting. He took a breath, the weight of the shift still lingering like cold air under his skin. "I was speaking with Isabella and Diana. I had just walked out when it hit. It wasn't just a ripple. It was...a breath. Like something woke up."

She stepped in closer, eyes narrowing.

"That can't be all."

He hesitated.

His smile curled, slow and criminal. "It's classified," he said lightly. "But maybe I could be persuaded... with the right location."

Zhang Ruoyun didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Just waited.

And Parker cursed softly under his breath. Because the truth wasn't his alone to tell. He'd promised Tessa. But this—this wasn't about privacy anymore. This was existence rearranging itself. And Zhang Ruoyun wasn't just anyone—she was Balance if she asked for details, she wanted them all and it would also perhaps help him figure out the heartbeats. He would've assumed it was his child's but what about months ago? And her heartbeat when he pressed his ear on Tessa's stomach, didn't feel like what he'd felt.

Also, Zhang wouldn't speak of Tessa's baby. Wouldn't spread it. She would know.

So, he looked at her and said, "I can tell you..."

Her stern expression cracked just a little. Just enough. She knew what he was about to say.

Cheeks flushed. Lips parted. She tried to look away—but too late. The blush was blooming. It spread across her cheeks like sunrise lighting the mountains.

Parker leaned in.

He smiled slowly, the kind of smile that belonged in forbidden temples and under silk sheet, he murmured, "but wouldn't it be more fun as a bedroom discussion?"

She blinked. Once.

Her cheeks turned scarlet.

Zhang Ruoyun, the Phoenix of Balance, the blade between order and chaos—was blushing.

"I hate you," she whispered.

"No, you don't."

She bit her lip. "You're impossible."

"And yet…" he whispered, stepping forward until his breath mingled with hers, "…you're still here."

The air between them burned.

And then she nodded—tiny, barely there.

He swept her up in one motion, one smooth, practiced movement. She gasped, clutched his collar, but didn't protest.

The palace hallway to the living room vanished behind them in a single Blink.