Strongest Rebirth: My Yandere Goddesses Broke The World For Me

"But you wouldn’t kill me if I am who you think I am, would you?" Zen asked softly.

​Valeria gasped. The dagger she was holding fell to the ground with a clatter.

​Her face, which had been fierce and murderous, suddenly turned red as she blushed. She pressed her face into his chest, gripping his jacket tightly.

​"You’re right," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my Emperor. Please don’t be mad at me. You’re not mad at me, are you?"

​Zen sighed. "It’s fine... No, I’m not."

​She pulled back and quickly wiped her eyes. In an instant, her psychotic yandere expression changed to that of a sweet, smiling girlfriend. She grabbed his hand and intertwined her fingers with his.

​"So!" Valeria said, beaming. "What are we shopping for?"

​Zen let out a mental sigh of relief. "I need a weapon. And a new drone."

​"A date at the Black Market!" Valeria cheered, pulling him down the alley. "I love it."

​The District 7 Black Market was an underground maze of illegal shops and unregulated magical gear.

Valeria clung to his arm the entire time, pressing her soft curves against him while casting death glares at any scavenger who looked at them for too long.

​Zen stopped at a rusted stall selling scavenged dungeon loot.

​"Show me your E-Rank mana blades," Zen told the merchant.

​The grumpy old man slapped a rusted, chipped straight-sword onto the counter. "Five thousand credits. Take it. Leave it."

​Valeria frowned. "That’s garbage." She pointed to a glowing crystal broadsword hanging behind the merchant. "What about that one?"

​"That’s a Mid S-Rank Oblivion Edge," the merchant snorted. "Two billion Mana-Credits."

​Valeria reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out a sleek, black Vanguard military credit chip. "I’ll take it."

​"Valeria, put that away," Zen ordered.

​"But Zen, you need a good weapon," she pouted. "Your core is fragile. If you have an S-Rank blade, you won’t even have to swing hard. I just want to spoil you."

​"I don’t need a crutch," Zen said, stepping closer to her. He reached out and gently pushed her hand down, letting his fingers linger on hers. "I do things my way. Plus, I won’t even be able to handle the power from a B-Rank weapon, not to talk of S-Rank."

​Valeria’s breath hitched at the physical contact. Her eyes dilated slightly. "Okay," she whispered, putting the chip away. "Whatever you want."

​Zen paid the merchant the five thousand credits for the rusted blade, then spent his remaining three thousand on a cheap second-hand GE burner drone.

​"System," Zen thought. "How is the dual cultivation progress?"

​[You’ve barely started.]

​Zen sighed as he strapped the sword to his back.

​Just then, a sharp high-pitched alarm started blaring from Valeria’s wrist. She quickly pulled down the sleeve of her jacket to hide her military bracer. She clearly didn’t want to reveal to a crowded black market that the Goddess of the Ares Domain was standing right there.

​She bit her lip, looking annoyed. "Wait right here for a second, Zen. I need to get this."

​Valeria stepped away, moving into a quieter corner of the market. Even while she was talking into her wrist comms, her red eyes kept darting back to Zen, watching his every move to make sure he didn’t run again.

​"System," Zen thought. "What is that about?"

​[Probability is 98% that it’s a military emergency requiring a Domain Ruler’s intervention.]

​Valeria walked back over to him. She didn’t mention what the call was about.

​"I have to go attend to something," Valeria said, her voice turning dead serious. "Something I’ve been ignoring all day just to be with you."

​She reached out and grabbed both of his hands.

​"I need you to go back to your dorm room," Valeria ordered. "Lock the door. Do not talk to anyone. Do not go anywhere else tonight. Do you understand me?"

​"I’ll be fine," Zen said.

​Her grip tightened painfully.

​"Promise me, Zen. Because if I find out you lied to me again..." Her eyes flickered down to his legs.

​"I’m going to my room," Zen lied smoothly.

​Valeria smiled, leaning in to place a soft, lingering kiss on his bruised cheek. "Good boy. I’ll see you tomorrow at school, partner."

​She turned and ran down the alleyway, blending in with the crowd of scrappers.

​Zen watched her go. A few seconds later, once she was out of sight of the market, he felt a massive surge of golden mana erupt in the distance. In the blink of an eye, her mana signature vanished completely from his System’s radar.

​She had blinked away to the North.

​Zen stood alone in the bustling Black Market. He let out a long breath.

​"Finally," he muttered.

​He pulled the cheap burner drone out of his bag. It was completely dead. Zen sat down on a crate and popped the casing open.

​Just like the last one, he needed to mask the IP address so the Omni Domain algorithms wouldn’t track him. He used his thumbnail to scrape out the primary connective aether rune on the glass board. Then, he touched the still-wet cut on his cheek and smeared a drop of his own blood over the secondary symbol to rewrite the ID transmitter.

​[Warning: Blood-rune rewrite executed. Trace resonance established. Ambient mana absorption capacity reduced by an additional 4% for the next three hours.]

​He tapped the power rune. The little silver ball floated up, its red recording light blinking to life.

​"System, log into the Ghost Scrapper account," Zen said.

​A translucent blue screen popped up in front of his face, displaying the GE network interface. Zen raised an eyebrow.

​[Account: Ghost Scrapper]

[Current Followers: 14,850]

[Total Stream Rewatches: 102,057]

​"Fourteen thousand followers from a fourteen-minute stream?" Zen asked, genuinely surprised.

​He looked at the chat box. It was scrolling rapidly even though he wasn’t broadcasting.

​ScrapRat: When is he going live again?!

​MetalHead: I need to see that footwork. I tried it in practice today and broke my ankle.

​VanguardFan1: Is the chick in the black cloak going to be there too?

​User_992: Bro, I got 500 credits waiting to tip if he fights another D-Rank boss.

​"They want a show," Zen smirked. "I can give them a show."

​He didn’t just want to blindly walk into the nearest zone. If he was going to build an audience and earn enough money to actually survive this world, he needed a dungeon people cared about.

​"System, open the GE forums. Find me the hottest discussion regarding active low-tier dungeons in District 7."

​[Scanning GE Forums... Top trending thread located.]

[Title: ’The Ashen Sewers are swarming. Three scavenger squads wiped out today. E-Rank limit.’]

​"The Ashen Sewers," Zen read the location data. "It’s a few blocks from here. Perfect."

​He stood up, the drone hovering silently over his shoulder, and walked out of the Black Market.

​The entrance to the Ashen Sewers wasn’t a grey wall like the Scrap Yard. It was a rusted drainage pipe leading underneath the old city infrastructure. The air around the tunnel tasted like sulfur and rot.

​A thick yellow caution tape had been strung across the entrance by the military police reading: ZONE ACTIVE. FATALITY RATE: HIGH.

​Zen ducked under the tape.

​"System," Zen said. "Start the broadcast."

​[Ghost Scrapper is now LIVE.]

[Notifying 14,850 followers...]

​The viewer count in the top right corner of his vision immediately started ticking up. Ten. Fifty. Two hundred. Within thirty seconds, over a thousand people had tuned in.

​Zen drew the rusted E-Rank mana blade from his back. It was heavy and poorly balanced. The edge was chipped, but it was better than fighting with his bare hands.

​He stepped deeper into the tunnel. The neon lights of the city faded behind him, replaced by the glowing green moss that grew along the sewer walls.

​CRUNCH.

​Zen stopped. The sound of bones snapping echoed from the darkness ahead. He slowly walked forward, turning the corner.

​The tunnel opened up into a massive underground reservoir. The water in the center was black and stagnant. And crawling all over the walls, ceiling and floor were dozens of creatures.

​They looked like spiders but their bodies were made of hardened, jagged stone and their mandibles dripped with a glowing corrosive green acid.

​"Acid-Crawlers," Zen muttered. "Low E-Rank monsters. Pack hunters."

​[Target Group: 14 Acid-Crawlers detected.]

[Probability of F-Rank Host surviving a swarm attack: 8%.]

​The chat on his interface exploded.

​User_992: He’s in the Sewers! Oh man, those things wiped out a full squad this morning!

​MetalHead: Why is he alone?! And look at that sword, it’s literal trash!

​ScrapRat: Ghost Scrapper doesn’t need a good sword. Watch the footwork, guys. Watch the footwork!

​One of the crawlers on the ceiling hissed, its multiple red eyes locking onto Zen. It dropped from the roof, its acid-dripping jaws snapping wide open as it fell directly toward his head.

​Zen didn’t use the Emperor’s Stride. He didn’t want to risk tearing his healing calf muscles again.

Instead, he gripped his sword handle tightly. He needed to absorb ambient mana to reach Mid F-Rank by tonight.

​"Let’s get to work," Zen said.