Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System! - Chapter 413

Chapter 413: Bearer and Granter
Seriously—why the hell was his daughter the only one who knew what Bella was thinking?

And more importantly, how the hell did Bella’s damn romantic crisis become his business? Like he didn’t already have the weight of Earth on his shoulders, interdimensional threats tapping at the door, and divine politics playing chess with his soul.

Now he had clingy teenage drama to deal with? Fucking perfect.

And it wasn’t like Nyxavere was activating some flashy mind-reading technique or divine spell. Nah. That would’ve been too easy to blame. The girl was an Omniscient. She just knew. Like breathing. Like existing. She could literally hear the silent screams of awkward crushes and romantic delusions from across a damn continent if she tried.

That’s why he couldn’t read Bella’s mind even though he had all the powers his daughter had.

“Can you back to the Palace, go throw that whole love thingy to Julian, alright?”

“She’s saying they’re not a couple,” Nyxavere casually dropped, chewing her bottom lip like she was holding back another giggle fit.

Maya, standing nearby, just let out a sigh like she’d finally accepted that the universe was done making sense. Like she’d seen the chaos, tried to tame it, and now just wanted a snack and some peace. No words. No drama. Just… vibes defeated.

Parker narrowed his eyes and did a slow pan of the crew like he was trying to figure out if he’d missed the memo about tonight being “betray your sanity” day. Even Helena, still seated coolly in the car, avoided his gaze like she was pretending to be part of the leather seat itself.

“What the fuck is going on here?” he asked, hand raised, voice low, sharp, slicing through the night like a broken violin string.

Nyxavere opened her mouth—definitely about to say something stupid and unhelpful while laughing her entire immortal soul out—but before the chaos queen could drop another heart attack into the conversation, Maya gently grabbed her daughter’s hand.

“We’ll be waiting inside,” Maya said softly, pulling Nyxavere along. The daughter just grinned, clutching her mom’s hand like some happy little imp.

The way she leaned into Maya was weirdly wholesome, though. They were finally like mother and daughter after eight fucking lifetimes of emotional messiness, and now suddenly they were doing the whole hand-holding and smiling routine like this wasn’t the same girl who once caused a cosmic riot out of boredom.

Parker exhaled like he’d just been punched in the soul.

“Helena. Say something,” he barked, hoping someone—anyone—would toss him a rope.

But Helena? Oh, she just lifted one brow and turned her head, all majestic and tragic like she was modeling for “Vague Responses Monthly.”

“You know what—whatever,” he muttered, throwing up a hand. “I don’t even care anymore.”

He pointed a sharp, don’t-test-me finger at Bella. “You. Stay.”

Then he spun and walked straight into the private VVIP terminal entrance like he was heading into battle, not a jet. The door opened smooth and silent, his coat flaring behind him like a damn cape. Because of course it did. That’s how tired he was.

Only… there was a presence behind him.

His eye twitched.

He stopped.

Turned.

Bella.

He stared at her with a mix of exhausted disbelief and secondhand embarrassment. “Did I not just say stay?”

She blinked. Innocently. Like some puppy who’d never heard the word “no” in her life. And when he started walking again, she fucking followed. Just like that. Like his shadow decided to grow high heels and trauma.

He dragged a hand down his face. “Why does no one listen to me?”

Then he waved her off like she was an annoying bee. “Know what? Do whatever you want. I don’t care.”

The second those words left his mouth, she ran up like a lovesick missile and hugged his arm—his actual arm—and the universe decided it had enough of this bullshit.

Space twisted. Reality glitched like an old DVD player getting smacked. In a snap, she was folded out of existence and placed neatly, politely, away from him.

He didn’t even flinch.

“Careful,” he muttered without looking. “Don’t touch me. Or even try to get close.”

Bella pouted. Real pout. That spoiled-rich-kid pout mixed with I’m in love with my captor energy.

Then she trudged away toward the jet, probably drafting her next romance novel in her head starring herself and Parker in a forbidden enemies-to-lovers plot.

But Parker… was thinking.

Something weird had happened yesterday. Something that didn’t line up. He’d pulled her into his arms when she crawled to him—instinctively—without even thinking twice. And now, even though he was annoyed as hell, he let her follow him? No Authority, no pushback, no divine lockdown?

Even his damn tone… there was this undertone, like a suggestive whisper slipped into his own voice, some kind of hidden “yes” tangled in his “no.”

Was it her?

Or was it something else?

Because this wasn’t love. Hell no. This felt like a bug in the code. A whisper in the script. A magnetic pull he didn’t write into the story—but now couldn’t delete.

****

Helena sat like royalty dipped in noir, legs crossed, her face half-lit by the dim dashboard glow. Noctavine Vaelith, on the other hand, was still bouncing from the sheer chaos they’d just left behind.

Parker had handed them tasks—big ones. Not the “file a report” kind but the type that made the world bend if done right. The type that would lock the Origin Families into place like chess pieces, cleared from the board within a month. He wanted it clean. Done. All of it wrapped up before he even looked toward Olympus. Because that war? Yeah… that was a different level of fucked.

Noctavine tapped her fingers on the leather armrest, then turned her head with that signature Vaelith curiosity dripping off her tongue. “So… what’s the deal with Bella and the Prince?”

Helena didn’t answer right away. Just leaned back into her seat with a sigh that carried the weight of galaxies. The city lights flashed across her pale cheekbones as they drove, giving her that cold goddess vibe—like if she blinked wrong, someone somewhere would drop dead.

“She’s known to some as Bearer,” Helena said at last. “And… the Granter.”

Noctavine raised a brow. “Granter?” She tilted her head. “Like… genie-style? Fairy godmother shit?”

“Like creator-style,” Helena replied, eyes locked on the road ahead, even though she wasn’t driving. “She’s Parker’s creation. His first Spirit he created. Back when he didn’t even know what he was yet.”

“Damn,” Noctavine breathed out, blinking. “Okay but like, what kind of Spirit?”

Helena smiled, that kind of slow, dangerous smirk that said the world had been messed up long before Bella ever existed. “One that shouldn’t exist,” she whispered. “Just like Nyxavere.”

Noctavine’s eyes widened slightly. “Wait—what do you mean shouldn’t?”

“I mean,” Helena murmured, “… too old. Too raw. Too close to Parker’s origin. Too broken. Created when he was still figuring himself out. Not just who he was—but what he was.”

She glanced out the tinted window like she could still see the jet behind them, even if it was miles away now.

“She’s wrapped in the laws of Existence to hide her from his memories, that’s why he doesn’t remember her,” she added. “And she doesn’t either. Because if they do…”

Noctavine sat in silence for a beat, letting that sink in. Her eyes narrowed, mind turning the info over like a puzzle she hadn’t been invited to solve. “So… she’s not just a clingy ex-bully turned love zombie?”

Helena chuckled. “Oh no, darling. She’s way worse than that.”

****

Meanwhile, in New York, the city had descended into darkness early morning as the morning had just arrived.

Not night. Darkness.

He was here.

The One with Shadows.

And the city felt it in its bones.