Hitman with a Badass System

1355  Meet The God Of Chaos, Agra

“Get a message to Agra, Seraphene. Tell him I have a proposition for him. One that he won’t be able to refuse.”

Seraphene tilted her head, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. “Why not have Qin Jiu arrange the meeting? She’s already… close to him, isn’t she?”

Andohr let out a harsh bark of laughter. “Qin Jiu? That pathetic creature? She might have been a big deal in the mortal realm, but here? She’s nothing but Agra’s plaything. A glorified concubine.”

He shook his head, his lips curled in a sneer. “Don’t waste my time with such trivialities, Seraphene. Go and deliver my message.”

A thousand years ago, when Qin Jiu had ascended to the realm of the Gods, she’d been full of ambition, her heart set on protecting the mortal realm from the encroaching darkness. Qin Jiu’s obsession with saving the mortal realm, her unwavering belief in her own destiny, had blinded her to the reality of the situation. She entered a lion’s den, thinking she could tame the beast. At first, Agra had been smitten by her beauty, her intelligence, her unwavering determination.

What had started as a passionate affair, a whirlwind of stolen kisses and whispered promises, had quickly devolved into something… toxic.

All Gods were a little unhinged, sure. Centuries, millennia of wielding unimaginable power, of being worshipped and feared, it tended to do that to a person.

But Agra…Agra was a whole different breed of crazy.

The more power Agra accumulated, the more unstable he became. His moods were as unpredictable as the storms he commanded, his temper as volatile as a lightning strike. Even the other Gods avoided him, whispering tales of his erratic behavior, his penchant for cruelty, his… unhinged nature. He lived up to his self-proclaimed title of God of Chaos, wreaking havoc wherever he went, his actions often defying logic, reason, and even basic decency.

Qin Jiu, trapped in a gilded cage of her own making, had become his prisoner. His plaything. A pawn to be used and discarded at his whim. She was still beautiful, still cunning, but the fire in her eyes had dimmed.

Thus, he wouldn’t trust Qin Jiu to deliver a message. She was too broken, too subservient. He needed someone… more capable, like Seraphene.

“You’re the Goddess of Information, Seraphene,” Andohr said, his tone brooking no argument. “Set up a meeting with Agra. Can you do that?”

Seraphene laughed, a low, melodic sound that held a hint of … something. Worry? Amusement? It was hard to tell with her.

“Oh, I can set up the meeting,” she said, her dark eyes twinkling. “The question is, can you handle Agra without losing your shit? Because that guy… he’s a whole new level of crazy, even for a god.”

She paused, her gaze turning thoughtful. “I hear he’s building… something. A Temple of Chaos, in his domain. Or rather,” she added with a wry smile, “the domain he took from Ava.”

“Ava?” Andohr frowned. “What happened to Ava? Where is that sanctimonious healer, anyway?”

“No one knows. Vanished. Poof. Even her healing angels haven’t a clue. She just… disappeared,” Seraphene shrugged.

Andohr rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his gaze turning distant. “Ava… vanished, you say? Interesting.”

“It is a bit strange, even for a goddess of healing,” Seraphene agreed.

“Start looking for her, Seraphene,” Andohr ordered, his voice taking on a harder edge. “I want to know where she is, what she’s up to. I’d rather have her on my side… or locked away in my dungeons… than running around loose, potentially falling in line with that Dark Lord bastard.”

He’d seen it happen a thousand times before. Beautiful, powerful women, drawn to the allure of darkness, the promise of forbidden power. It was a cliché, sure, but clichés existed for a reason. And in his experience, the God of Darkness was exactly the kind of asshole those types tended to fall for.

“Speaking of beautiful women…” Andohr’s gaze sharpened. “What about Gaya? Any progress on tracking the Dark Lord’s… wife?”

“Last I heard, she’s holed up in Seshat’s domain. Under that bitch’s protection. My spies can’t get close, and Seshat isn’t exactly… forthcoming with information.” Seraphene sighed, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

****************************

Somewhere else, in the heart of what was once known as the Verdant Sanctuary, chaos reigned. The land, once a haven of peace and healing, now bore the scars of Agra’s reign. Twisted trees clawed at the sky, their branches gnarled and blackened. The air crackled with a dissonant energy, the scent of wildflowers replaced by the acrid tang of sulfur and decay. At the center of this corrupted paradise, a monstrous structure was rising from the earth. The Temple of Chaos. A monument to Agra’s twisted vision, built with the blood and sweat of slaves, a testament to his insatiable hunger for power. Men and women, their bodies emaciated, their eyes hollow with despair, hauled massive blocks of stone, their chains clinking a mournful rhythm against the scarred earth. Overseers, clad in dark robes and with faces painted with white powder, their eyes glittering with a manic glee, cracked whips, their laughter echoing across the desolate landscape. “Faster, you lazy dogs!” one of the overseers roared, his voice a guttural rasp. He lashed out with his whip, the leather tip connecting with a slave’s back, drawing a scream of pain that was quickly swallowed by the wind. “Agra demands obedience! Your suffering pleases him!”

Another overseer, his face contorted in a grotesque grin, grabbed a female slave by the hair, yanking her head back. “What a pretty little thing,” he chuckled, his breath reeking of rot and stale wine. “Maybe Agra will favor you tonight. If you’re lucky.” The woman whimpered, her eyes filled with a terror that spoke volumes. High above the chaos, in a tower that overlooked the construction site, Qin Jiu stood, her gaze fixed on the scene below. Her heart ached at the sight of the slaves, their bodies broken, their spirits crushed under the weight of Agra’s tyranny.

She recognized many of them. Healers, once renowned for their compassion and skill, their hands having soothed countless wounds and mended broken bodies. Now, they were reduced to slaves, their white robes stained with dirt and blood, their eyes hollow with despair.

“This… this wasn’t how it was supposed to be,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

When she’d first ascended to the realm of the Gods, she’d been full of hope, full of dreams. She’d believed that her power, her knowledge, her connection to the mortal realm, would make a difference.

She’d been so naive.

Agra, in his madness, had twisted everything she’d believed in, everything she’d fought for. He’d turned Ava’s sanctuary, her haven of healing, into a monument to chaos and despair.

And she… she was powerless to stop him.

As she was looking at the scene, suddenly a harsh, cackling laugh, like a hyena choking on a bone, echoed through the tower. Qin Jiu’s body tensed, a shiver of dread running down her spine.

She knew that laugh. Knew it all too well.

And when she turned her head, she saw him standing in the doorway.

Agra.

He was a sight to behold, in all his chaotic glory. His face was painted with a thick layer of white powder, his eyes highlighted with streaks of black paint that made them seem even wilder, even more unhinged. He wore a robe of dark silk, its edges tattered and frayed, as if it had been clawed by unseen beasts. His lips were smeared with a crimson paste that could have been blood or paint—it was hard to tell with him—and his wild, unkempt hair stood out in all directions as if he’d been struck by lightning.

“Qin Jiu, my love!” he called out, his voice a strange mix of honeyed charm and barely contained madness. “Where are you, my beautiful, brilliant queen?”

He bounced towards her, a manic gleam in his wild eyes. He grabbed her by the hem of her skirt, pulling her closer, his laughter grating on her nerves.

“Qin Jiu, my darling!” he exclaimed, his voice a high-pitched whine. “Tell me, tell me… how many slaves died today?”

Qin Jiu, knowing resistance would only make things worse, let him manhandle her, her body stiff and unresponsive. She’d learned, through countless painful encounters, that the best way to survive Agra’s… episodes was to simply go along with his whims.

“Seven, my lord,” she answered, her voice flat, devoid of emotion.

Agra’s laughter abruptly ceased, his eyes widening in mock disappointment.

“Seven measly souls? That’s an insult to chaos!” Agra shrieked, his grip tightening on Qin Jiu’s skirt, his painted face contorted in a grotesque mockery of a pout. “We need more… inspiration! More… fertilizer for the garden of chaos!”

He leaned closer, his breath hot and fetid on her face, his eyes glittering with a manic glee.

“Don’t worry, my love,” he whispered, his voice a low, seductive purr that sent shivers down her spine. “Once I’m done… playing with you, I’ll teach those lazy bastards a lesson they won’t forget. I’ll make them understand the true meaning of chaos. I’ll rip their flesh, shatter their bones, and feast on their screams! It’ll be a symphony of pain, a masterpiece of suffering! And you, my darling,” he added, his grip tightening on her arm, his nails digging into her flesh.

 “You’ll have the best seat in the house.”

************

But just as he was about to rip the fabric, the door to the chamber burst open. A scrawny young man, clad in the same dark robes and white face paint as the other cultists, stumbled into the room, his chest heaving, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and urgency. His face was smeared with dirt and sweat, and his breath came in ragged gasps, as if he’d run a mile.

Agra paused, his hand frozen in mid-air, a flicker of amusement crossing his manic features.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mock politeness. “What a pleasant surprise. To what do we owe the honor, my dear… what was your name again? Ah, never mind. Spit it out, boy. What’s so important that you’d dare interrupt my… quality time with my beloved Qin Jiu?”

The minion, his knees practically knocking together, stammered, “M-my Lord… a message… from Seraphene. She requests… no, demands… an audience with you. Andohr… he wishes to speak with you.”

Agra’s laughter boomed through the chamber, echoing off the stone walls.

“Andohr, Andohr…” he mused, shaking his head. “Always scheming, that one. Thinks he can control everything, manipulate everyone. What a pathetic little control freak.” He grinned, a flash of sharp, pointed teeth.

“But… ” he mused, tapping a finger against his chin, “perhaps a little chat with the God of Time wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if it annoys that sanctimonious bastard Zorian.”

The minion, relieved that he’d delivered his message without incurring his master’s wrath, bowed deeply. “Thank you, my Lord. I will relay your message immediately.”

He turned to leave, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere of Agra’s chambers.

“Wait!” Agra called out, beckoning the minion closer with a crooked finger. “One more thing. Come closer, I have another message… for Seraphene.”

The minion, his heart sinking, hesitantly approached. S~eaʀᴄh the Novelƒire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

When the minion came closer, Agra leaned in, his lips brushing against the minion’s ear. “Tell that bitch…” And then, without warning, he grabbed the minion by the back of the head, pulling him close. He planted a wet, slobbery kiss on his lips. And then, with a burst of chaotic energy, he slammed the minion’s head against the wall.

The sound of cracking bone echoed through the tower, followed by a wet, gurgling scream that was cut short as the minion’s skull caved in. Agra continued to slam the lifeless body against the wall, again and again, his laughter echoing through the room, each blow punctuated by a spray of blood and bone.

“Privacy, damn it!” he roared, his voice a mix of glee and manic fury. “My minions need to learn some goddamn decency!”

As Agra kicked the lifeless body of his minion, Qin Jiu watched with her stomach churning. Blood and bits of bone splattered across the floor, painting a gruesome tableau of chaos and violence. “Oops,” Agra chuckled, wiping a stray bit of brain matter from his cheek with the back of his hand. “Looks like someone needd a little… etiquette,” Then, he turned towards Qin Jiu, his grin widening and his eyes gleaming with a manic energy that made her skin crawl. “Now, where were we?” he purred, taking a step towards her. “Ah, yes… Andohr. I wonder what that pompous prick wants. To invite me to join his little rebellion? Or maybe he has something… juicier in mind.”

He clapped his hands together, the sound sharp and loud in the sudden silence.

“Either way, darling,” he said, his voice laced with a gleeful anticipation, “things are about to get… interesting. And I have a feeling… a *very* good feeling… that shit’s about to hit the fan.”  

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