Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System! - Chapter 225

Chapter 225: Self-Soul-Corruption
And then—boom. It began.

The air bent. Reality folded in on itself like the universe was flexing just for Parker. Threads of Omni Energy surged out of the void, raw and alive, snapping through the space like lightning that couldn’t decide if it wanted to kiss you or kill you.

But here’s the twist—this wasn’t just energy. This was power that answered to him. Flowing into him like it belonged there. Like the whole damn universe was saying, “You’re the boss, dude.”

The connection snapped tight—his soul latched onto his body outside the Nexus realm like magnets supercharged with fate itself.

His essence wasn’t just merging—it was consuming, devouring every ounce of Omni Energy like he was born for this. His body outside? Yeah, that thing started rebuilding—again. Bones cracked, muscles layered, skin pulled tighter—an upgrade on top of an upgrade. Like the universe was saying, “Oh, you thought you were done? Cute.”

Ere watched, wide-eyed, fur standing on end. “There’s no way that doesn’t hurt,” she thought, heart twisting. “He’s either the toughest bastard alive or just too damn broken to feel anything anymore and how many rebuilding does he have to go through.”

But Parker? Nothing. No pain. No sting. Just a rush of rightness. Like this wasn’t struggle—it was destiny in motion.

Levi’s voice oozed smug approval. [Damn, Master. You’re turning into something real dangerous—cosmic diamond-level dangerous.]

Parker rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck like this was just another round at the gym. “Levi, you sound like this is new. This is round nine. Surprise me next time, yeah?” Right, there was no next time. This time he was here to stay!

And then—shit hit different.

It wasn’t shadows this time. No, something deeper clawed its way out—something raw, something that didn’t come from the Nexus. It came from him.

The chill rolled in. Not just a cold breeze—this was death’s breath, brushing through the forest like an executioner’s hand. The air thickened, heavy like every atom had just remembered what fear felt like.

The midday light dimmed like the sun itself was second-guessing its life choices.

Ere’s claws dug into the ground. “What the hell, Parker?” Her voice cracked with something dangerously close to fear.

Even Levi, always the cocky little shit, went eerily quiet. [Master…?]

Parker didn’t flinch. His aura swelled, dragging the world down with it—like gravity had just cranked up to a soul-crushing eleven. Everything bent toward him—below him.

And it felt… right.

The void didn’t just wrap around him—it embraced him like a child embracing it’s parent after so long. A ruler’s crown made of apathy, indifference colder than the void between stars. His power wasn’t warm, wasn’t compassionate. It didn’t give—it took. Ruthless. Inevitable.

Ere took another step back, her voice trembling now. “Parker? No—come on. This isn’t you. Snap out of it. Please.”

Levi’s voice broke through, desperate now. [Hey—hey, come back, dude. This ain’t it. You’re scaring the hell outta me.]

But Parker… didn’t move. His eyes darkened, not black, but something worse—emptiness pretending to be human. His aura was a crushing, endless ocean, and every living thing near him felt it. Felt the universe scream, You’re beneath him.

That’s when Levi realized what was happening and didn’t panic anymore.

The chill wrapped tighter. The forest around them withered—trees bent like they knew they were nothing. Ere’s breath hitched; she felt her own fear twist into something sharp and real.

And Parker? He smiled. A slow, cold, unbothered smile.

“This… this is what I’m supposed to be,” his voice came out smooth, deep, and terrifying in how right it sounded.

Ere’s heart clenched. “Please… snap out of it. This isn’t you. I know it’s not.” Parker was like a force of chaos corrupting everything near him.

But deep inside? Parker didn’t feel lost.

He felt like he had finally come home.

And just like that, the darkness didn’t swallow him.

It welcomed him.

Levi knew exactly what was happening—and damn, it wasn’t good. Parker was slipping back into that version of himself—the cold, untouchable ruler of fear, the detached Prince Of Existence everyone who knew him secretly (or not-so-secretly) shit themselves over.

This wasn’t anger bubbling up, no, that would’ve been manageable. If Parker got angry? Sure, hellfire and chaos, but at least it burned out eventually.

This though? This was worse. This was Parker becoming himself—the cold, detached sovereign who didn’t need to rage. Why? Because when Parker decided something was done, the universe just… obeyed. No tantrums. No second chances. Just cold, calculated destruction.

Last time? Oh yeah, last time was a straight-up apocalypse teaser trailer. All because some poor, dumb bastard thought it’d be a stellar idea to try and tame one of Parker’s beasts. Cute, right? Except, no. Parker nearly wiped out an entire realm—billions hanging on the edge of annihilation because someone poked the wrong cosmic bear.

And Levi? Hell no. Not again. Cooling Parker down last time was like trying to put out a forest fire with a paper fan—except the fire wanted to eat you too.

He wasn’t being corrupted—hell no. This wasn’t some dark force creeping in, twisting him into something else. No, Parker was becoming exactly what he was meant to be. The cold, detached prince he was born as.

The kind of ruler who didn’t ask, didn’t plead—he decided. Reality didn’t argue with him; it bent. A force that didn’t need anger to destroy, just a simple truth: His will was law.

Reason? Only strength. Mercy? That was for the weak. You didn’t bargain with someone like him—you survived him, if you were lucky.

****

Somewhere else. Somewhere colder.

The attic was a mess—like, hurricane-level chaos in the making. Old toys were scattered everywhere—broken action figures missing limbs, a lone teddy bear with one eye dangling like it had seen some shit. A forgotten soccer ball sat wedged between a stack of dusty boxes and a cracked lamp that had definitely been dead for years.

The room was big enough for a kid to play in… if he had the energy for that.

But the little boy didn’t.

He sat in the corner, folded into himself like life had decided he was its favorite punching bag. Shirtless, shivering, and soaked to the bone. His hair clung to his forehead in wet, dark strands, icy water dripping down his neck and tracing jagged lines across his bare back.

The kind of cold that didn’t just sting—it bit, sharp and merciless, like winter itself had snuck in just to watch him suffer.

Even the one miserable excuse for clothing left on him—a pair of threadbare shorts—was drenched. Heavy and useless, like every ounce of warmth had been wrung out and tossed aside.

The bed was just a few steps away. The covers—thin as they were—looked like salvation. But his legs? They weren’t cooperating. They felt like two frozen bricks glued to the floor, heavy with exhaustion and dread. Moving wasn’t just hard—it was impossible.

And that cold? Goddamn. It wasn’t just outside biting through the attic walls—it was inside him now. Like some icy guillotine resting on the back of his neck, daring him to even think about moving. Go ahead, it seemed to whisper. See what happens.

From downstairs, voices tore through the cold silence. Sharp. Angry. Ripping through the house like claws on glass.

He couldn’t make out the words—the freezing numbness in his ears made sure of that. But honestly? Did it even matter?