Chapter 42

9th of December
Thyrsopolis

Issei stood in the office of the mayor of Thyrsopolis, feeling a mix of awe and irritation. The room was a masterpiece of modern design, all sleek lines and minimalist furniture, with a panoramic window offering a breathtaking view of the city's steampunk skyline. The mayor's desk, an imposing slab of polished wood, looked more like it belonged in a high-powered corporate boardroom than a government office. It was clear: someone had delusions of grandeur.

Behind the desk stood Mayor Luke Castellan, the man himself a walking contradiction. Young, fit, and annoyingly handsome, Luke looked like he had stepped out of a fashion magazine rather than the streets of Thyrsopolis. His blonde hair was perfectly styled, and his muscles strained against his tailored suit. Issei couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy, especially when he noticed Red eyeing the mayor with a mix of curiosity and something that looked dangerously like admiration.

Luke Castellan
Mayor of Thyrsopolis
Dio's bitch
Level 134

Adrastia stood nearby, her usual smirk firmly in place. She seemed to be enjoying the show, watching the two men who had nearly torn apart her shop squirm under the mayor's scrutiny. The Marquis de Sade, with his flamboyant attire and theatrical gestures, and the heavily armored stranger, Count Arnau, now looked more like chastened schoolboys than fearsome warriors. Which was quite funny, as they were obviously stronger than the mayor. But the mayor had been chosen by Dionysos and was supported by the twelve Archbishops of Dionysos—not out of respect, but because none of them wanted to manage the city. Luke was doing an okay job, not letting it fall into more chaos, so they supported him. Well, they killed whoever threatened him or tried to take his place.

He sighed, clearly exasperated. "Gentlemen, Thyrsopolis is a city of order and respect."

Everybody snorted, knowing full well it was a lie. If they only took the last hour into account, it was evident: first, there was the enchanted pigeon incident. Then, Red accidentally activated a market relic that turned into a giant mechanical spider, leading to a chaotic chase through food stalls and a flower shop, leaving them covered in pie filling and petals. Adrastia tangled with mischievous gnomes selling fake potions, resulting in a swarm of glittering butterflies that made her sparkle like a carnival float. Lastly, they were dragged into a street theater performance, forced into impromptu roles involving cross-dressing, mistaken identities, and a confused minotaur, culminating in their return to the mayor's office looking like a troupe of clowns.

Before either man could muster a response, the office doors flew open, and the city's police force marched in. They were a sight to behold: a mix of satyrs in green spandex executing flawless karate moves and others in full military gear with AK-47s at the ready.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" one of them bellowed.

And of course, they were late.

The lead satyr, a particularly brawny fellow with a perpetually grumpy expression, stepped forward and saluted. "Mayor Castellan, we're here to restore order."

Luke, clearly used to such interruptions, facepalmed. "Thank you, Sergeant. But, normally, you had to intervene at the shop, during the fight. Not after they came here themselves when Adrastia threatened to cut their testicles—and tattle on them to Dionysos when he gets back."

He turned back to Count Arnau and the newcomer, Marquis de Sade. "So, let me get this straight. You both wanted to train the kid—" Issei winced at being called a kid, "—and decided to fight each other to see who was stronger. Adrastia stopped you, so you came here for me to decide who will train him. Is that correct?"

Everyone nodded or muttered agreements.

Suddenly, Luke's calm demeanor shattered. With a furious roar, he flipped his desk over, sending papers and objects flying. "You came to me—the mayor who has to manage a city of more than forty-four different races and over ten thousand inhabitants—for this fucking nonsense?" His voice dripped with sarcasm and fury. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

He glared at them, his eyes blazing with rage. "You two idiots think this is worth my time? While I'm dealing with a city that could descend into chaos at any moment, you bring this shit to my office?"

Luke's insults became even more cutting. "You're both fucking pathetic! Can't even settle a simple dispute without dragging me into it. Fine! You both can train him. I don't give a rat's ass how you work it out, but if I hear another word about this, you'll wish Adrastia had followed through on her threat!"

With that, he turned away, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself down. The room was silent, everyone too shocked to speak. After a few seconds, the Marquis de Sade was about to retort, but before he could speak, a deep, grumbling voice interrupted them.

"Ah, Issei. I have been waiting for you to come here, to Thyrsopolis."

Everyone—except Luke, who was clearly used to the chaos—jumped in surprise. Standing in the doorway was an imposing figure, his presence immediately commanding the room. He was tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders and a rugged, chiseled face that looked as if it had been carved from stone. His eyes burned with a fierce intelligence, and his long, short hair flowed down to his shoulders like a mane (yeah, he is a titan, he can have hair that does that). He wore a cloak of dark, rich fabric, embroidered with intricate designs that seemed to shimmer with an inner light. His aura exuded ancient wisdom and unyielding strength, filling the room with a palpable energy.

Issei blinked in confusion. "I... I don't know who you are."

The man smiled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Allow me to introduce myself," he said, his voice booming with dramatic flair as he stepped further into the room. "I am Prometheus, the King of Spades, one of Dionysos' Archbishops, and the maker of man!"

Luke rolled his eyes. And he sais Luke was a Dark-Sasuke.

He paused, letting his words hang in the air like a declaration of divine intent. "I have watched over humanity for eons, guiding and shaping your kind. It was my hand that stole fire from the gods and bestowed it upon mankind, igniting the spark of civilization itself. It is my wisdom that has steered the course of human destiny, and now, Issei, I have awaited your arrival here in Thyrsopolis!"

The room fell silent, the weight of Prometheus' dramatic proclamation settling over everyone like a thick fog. Red looked at Issei as if he had grown a second head, her eyes wide with astonishment and disbelief. Issei felt a shiver run down his spine, recognizing the man from Red's relentless lessons in Greek mythology. She had made him listen to every detail when she discovered Dionysos was real. This was no ordinary man; this was the Titan Prometheus, the creator of mankind!

Issei's eyes widened with a mix of awe and disbelief. "You're... you're the Titan Prometheus!" he stammered, the realization hitting him like a bolt of lightning.

Prometheus nodded, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Indeed, Issei. And now, it is time for you to fulfill your destiny."

"I… I have a destiny to fulfill?" Issei asked, trembling in disbelief. At last! It was his time to shine. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement, imagining all the heroic feats and legendary quests that awaited him. And now…women and Red would look at him like the man he was - well, would become!

The Titan threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to shake the very walls of the office. "Of course not!" he bellowed, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You're just a random guy who stumbled into this madness, and that was born with an absurd amount of luck and a Bijuu in his belly, like Naruto. Luckily for m..I mean, you, I'm a pro in fuinjutsu, and I'll take care of scaly Kurama for you in exchange for making you the most badass Badass there…"

Then, to everyone's surprise, a mortal woman randomly appeared in Luke's office, holding a very bright feather. She stood there, looking bewildered, the feather clutched tightly in her hand. She seemed even more surprised than the rest of them. She glanced around, taking in the shocked faces staring back at her. After a moment of awkward silence, she half-explained, half-asked, "Huh... I was talking about my sad life story to a guy that I met for the second time on a train from Italy to Greece, after we fucked. We fucked really good. Almost as good as when we first met. Then he gave me this feather, told me to give it to a guy named Prometheus and to make a new life. Then I'm no longer in the train and I'm here. So…WHAT THE FUCK?"

And she started hyperventilating, while Adrastia was happy that Dionysos used all the grain of rice portkeys Bellatrix and her had made for him. They spent a lot of time, making hundreds of them.

12th of December.
Greece, Athens

Dionysos sauntered through the lively streets of Athens, his every step a testament to his newly reclaimed mortality. Six months had passed since his ritual sacrifice, six months since he had returned to the realm of men. Now, he found himself back in one of his old haunts.

Greece.

He paused to light a big spliff, the end glowing brightly in the early evening light. The sweet, pungent scent of cannabis drifted through the air, mingling with the aroma of fresh bread and sizzling souvlaki from the nearby vendors. With a casual flick of his wrist, Dionysos cast a subtle enchantment. Moments later, a pair of patrolling cops who had been eyeing him suspiciously began to drift over, their expressions softening as they caught a whiff of the smoke.

"Hey, man, got any more of that?" one of the officers asked, almost sheepishly.

Dionysos chuckled and passed the spliff around, watching with amusement as the cops took a drag, their stern facades melting away into relaxed grins. "Enjoy, gentlemen," he said with a wink before continuing his leisurely stroll.

As he ambled through the bustling streets, his eyes caught sight of a peculiar scene. A well-dressed man in a sharp suit was following a very dirty tramp, his expensive shoes clacking on the cobblestones. The contrast between the two was stark and almost comical. The beggar was a mess of matted hair, grime, and tattered rags that barely clung to his skeletal frame. His skin was caked with dirt, and an unpleasant odor emanated from him, potent enough to make passersby give him a wide berth. Even his dog was cleaner than him.

In stark contrast, the man in the suit was a picture of elegance. His blonde hair was perfectly styled, gleaming in the fading sunlight like spun gold. His suit was immaculate, clearly tailored to fit his athletic frame, and his polished shoes reflected the light with a mirror-like sheen. He looked like he had stepped out of a high-end fashion magazine, an image of wealth and refinement.

"Please, you must teach me some philosophy! I need your wisdom," the banker begged, his voice tinged with desperation, eyes wide and imploring.

The beggar, clearly annoyed, turned and unleashed a torrent of colorful insults. "For fuck's sake, Alexander, leave me the hell alone! Can't a guy get some peace without you rich assholes bothering him?"

Dionysos couldn't help but laugh out loud, the sound catching the attention of both men. He walked over, his grin widening as he recognized the beggar. "Diogenes, you old dog!"