Malthus' castle was gone.

Reduced to rubble, regret, and maybe a little bit of radiation.

Of course, the man had seven castles — one on every damn continent of Moral — because apparently, he collected real estate like Pokémon.

But this one?

This one was special.

It was built on the Gangbang Continent, the same continent where Malthus began his planet domination arc.

Also the same place where he beat me, Erect, Sexis, and even the Supreme Man like we were extras in his villain montage.

So no, I knew he wouldn't die from my "oops-I-bombed" move.

Guy probably shrugged off the explosion like, "Ah yes, Tuesday."

But where the hell was he?

No red glow. No maniacal laugh. Not even a taunt echoing through the dust.

Just wind.

And Stronges — she was supposed to be here too. She had jumped to the top floor before everything went full Michael Bay.

Now that the castle was gone, she should've been visible.

But nope. No Stronges, no Malthus.

Just me.

And a lot of corpses who couldn't appreciate how cool that explosion was.

I'd waited five years for this moment.

Five years of dreaming about his smug red face.

Five years of promising myself that when I finally saw him again, I'd make him regret existing.

And now?

Now he's late.

So I did what any mature, enlightened hero would do:

I took a deep breath and screamed like a man possessed.

"MALTHUS, YOU RED BITCH! COME HERE AND FIGHT ME!"

There was a time when calling him that would've made me tremble.

Now?

I said it with the confidence of a guy who's already committed several war crimes and has nothing left to lose.

My voice echoed through the ruins.

And… nothing.

No response.

Not even a villainous "ho ho ho."

A vein popped on my forehead so hard it applied for citizenship.

I looked around.

Even Ghost Jack wasn't here.

He was supposed to be with the master — so if the castle's gone, where the hell are they?

Before I could think too hard—

[ Skill: NotFlix Activated! ]

I blinked.

My system's activating skills like a toddler with access to my Amazon account.

'Dude, my skills aren't a prostitute's body—you can't just use them whenever you feel like it. And what the hell is NotFlix?'

[ See for yourself. And don't you dare doubt my ability. I'm helping you, idiot. ]

The System's tone had that passive-aggressive edge of someone who'd been insulted one too many times.

"Fine," I muttered. "Show me the magic, you insecure motherboard."

I waited.

No change.

My body felt normal.

Hands? Normal.

Legs? Normal.

Nothing glowing, nothing exploding.

I looked at my allies — they were also just standing there, confused and dusty.

"System, did you scam me again?"

[ Look above, idiot. ]

I did.

And immediately regretted doubting him.

Because the sky—was now a live stream.

Yep.

A literal Netflix for gods.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and gawked upward.

The whole sky had turned into a massive 4K plasma screen.

There we were — the demolished castle, the piles of corpses, the chaos, all playing in real time for the world to see.

The sky was basically screaming: "Previously, on Racis Fucks Around and Finds Out."

All my memories flooded back.

Malthus had done the same trick years ago — when he broadcast our defeat to every soul alive.

Now it was my turn.

[ You can hear the people too. And they can hear you. Malthus did it once. Now it's our revenge stream. ]

I grinned.

The System finally got it.

This was poetic.

If Malthus could humiliate us in front of everyone, then I'd make sure his downfall got a global premiere.

I scanned the sky.

And the sky showed me scanning the sky.

"Okay," I muttered. "That's weirdly meta."

It was like staring into a live mirror of your own confusion.

A paradox of idiocy.

But soon, in the far corner of the sky-screen, I saw movement.

Two glowing dots clashing back and forth, fast as lightning.

And a faint third one hovering close by.

I squinted.

Then I saw it.

Two black horns on one of the figures.

That smug red aura.

Malthus.

My lips curled into a grin sharper than my katana.

"I found you, you crimson midlife crisis."

I told everyone what I saw. They looked up, squinted, and within seconds, they spotted it too.

Far, far above — Malthus and Stronges were fighting, their blows lighting the clouds like fireworks made of ego.

I could've gone to them right there.

I probably had a skill that would let me yeet myself into the sky like a discount meteor.

But no.

That would be too boring.

I wanted everyone to see him die.

I wanted his people, his family, his fans — all to watch their red god bleed in HD.

So I needed a plan.

And that faint third dot?

That was my way.

It wasn't Malthus or Stronges.

It was Jack.

The ghost.

He could read my thoughts — which meant he could hear me.

Perfect.

'Hey, Jack. It's me,' I said in my mind.

Silence.

Nothing.

Was this dude ghosting me… literally?

'Jack, you there?'

Still nothing.

Bro really blocked me on psychic WhatsApp.

[ Skill: Truecaller Activated! ]

I groaned. "Seriously? We're going full smartphone now?"

[ You idiot. Jack can hear you, but you can't hear him. He's far. Even if he talks back, you can't receive it without this. ]

"…Okay, fine. I take it back. You're useful."

[ Obviously. ]

The line connected.

"Yeah, pal," Jack's voice echoed suddenly in my head. "I've been replying for a while. You weren't hearing me. Your system's got potential."

"Don't feed its ego," I muttered. "It's already power-tripping."

Jack chuckled. "So? You reached the castle?"

'Yep,' I replied. 'Blew it up. Killed all the guards. Reduced everything to dust and regret. Tell him that. Tell him I'm alive. Tell him the king of humans is standing, waiting for him. Because you can't become a king without killing the king before you.'

Jack whistled. "Damn, dramatic much? But sure thing, pal. Message delivered."

And before I could even blink—

THUMP!

The ground cracked.

Dust exploded.

And there he was.

Malthus.

Standing in front of me.

Red. Radiant. And pissed enough to make hell nervous.

The world went quiet.

Even the wind stopped scrolling.

I grinned, wiping the dirt from my face.

"Took you long enough, Red Bitch."

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