Chapter 202: The Sci-Fi Spy

I turned to Ravina, my voice cold and final as I gestured toward the bound men—Mitt, Ryan, Tusk, and the others—kneeling in the dirt, their faces pale with fear. "Aunt Ravina," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument, "send them on their way. I’ve taught them enough. Maybe in their next life, they won’t be such pathetic losers."

Kerry was still panting, her body trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her thighs slick with my cum and her own fluids. She pressed herself against me, her breath uneven as she tried to steady herself. Ravina’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp as she turned to her warriors. "Kill them."

Without hesitation, Sabina, Helen, and the others stepped forward. Their spears flashed in the sunlight as they pierced through the men’s chests. Mitt, Ryan, and the others let out sharp, desperate screams, their bodies jerking as blood soaked into the earth beneath them.

But then—a new sound cut through the forest. A mechanical growl, growing louder. My head snapped toward it, my body tensing as I saw them:

four mountain bikes

, each carrying two men—one driving, the other holding a gun. Their clothes were strange, foreign, and their weapons were unlike anything the tribe had ever seen.

My instincts screamed danger.

I turned to Ravina, my voice urgent. "Run. Now."

Ravina’s eyes widened, her voice sharp as she realized the threat. "Go!"

Kerry’s breath hitched, her body still trembling as I pulled her close, shielding her against my chest. The women of the tribe didn’t hesitate—they sprinted toward their horses, mounting them in seconds, their faces tense with fear.

I lifted Kerry onto the horse, my voice a dark command. "Hold on tight."

The horses surged forward, their hooves pounding against the earth as we rode away from the approaching threat. But after a few moments, I glanced back—those men weren’t following us. Instead, they were gathering Mitt, Ryan, and the others, their bodies still bound in ropes, their wounds bleeding but not fatal.

I slowed the horse to a stop, Ravina and the others following suit. My voice was low, determined. "Aunt Ravina, take everyone back. I’ll go see who those men are."

Kerry’s grip on me tightened, her voice panicked. "NO, Dexter!" Her fingers dug into my arm, her breath coming in sharp gasps. "It’s too dangerous! Those men—they were riding something like a monster, and their clothes—they were so strange—!" Her eyes were wide, her face pale with fear. "What if they hurt you? What if they—"

I didn’t let her finish.

I jumped down from the horse, pulling out the

Magical Tool

from my inventory. With a flick of my wrist, it transformed into a

mountain bike

, its sleek, black frame gleaming under the sunlight. Kerry’s eyes widened in shock, her voice a breathless gasp. "D-Dexter—! What is that—?!"

Ravina and the others had seen me conjure things before, so they weren’t as shocked as Kerry. Instead, they chuckled, Ravina’s voice a dark, amused purr. "Don’t worry about Dexter, Kerry." Her smirk was knowing, her gaze sweeping over me. "He’s not just a man. He’s a God." Her voice dropped to a dark murmur, filled with pride. "He can fly. He can heal. He can—"

Kerry’s breath hitched, her eyes flicking between me and Ravina. "A God?" Her voice was a whisper, her fingers tightening around my arm.

Ravina’s voice turned excited as she recounted the tale of how I’d slaughtered the attackers who had once threatened her tribe. "He killed them all without breaking a sweat," she said, her eyes gleaming. "And he needs pussy to restore his energy."

Kerry’s face paled, her voice a shocked whisper. "Is that true?" Her gaze locked onto mine, her breath trembling. "All this time... you’ve been—"

I pulled her into a tight embrace, my voice a dark murmur. "I’m sorry, Aunt Kerry." My fingers brushed against her cheek, my touch gentle despite the chaos around us. "I wanted to tell you... But I didn’t know how."

Kerry’s breath hitched, her body trembling as she processed my words. "So... all the things about your grandfather... were a lie?" Her voice was a whisper, her eyes searching mine. "You’re really a God?"

I nodded, my voice a dark purr. "Yeah." My lips brushed against her forehead, my voice a velvet whisper. "I’m the God who fucked your pussy and asshole." My fingers tightened around her waist, my voice a dark growl.

"And you’re my woman." My gaze locked onto hers, my tone leaving no room for doubt. "So don’t think about anything else." My smirk deepened, my voice a dark murmur. "Wait for me to come back."

Kerry’s arms wrapped around me, her voice a desperate whisper. "I don’t care about any of that." Her fingers clenched into my skin, her voice trembling. "I just know... you’re my Dexter." Her breath hitched, her voice a dark murmur.

"The one who wanted to put his cock in my pussy..." Her lips curled into a smirk, her voice a velvet taunt. "The one who kept poking it at me all night, even when we were riding..." Her cheeks flushed, her voice dropping to a whisper. "The one who made me cum so hard I pissed myself..."

I chuckled, my voice a dark purr. "Wait for me to come back."

I turned to Ravina, my voice sharp. "Contact me if anything happens." My fingers tapped the Bluetooth earpiece we’d all been wearing, my gaze locking onto hers. "I’ll be back."

Without another word, I activated the

Jetpack

, its engines roaring to life as I soared into the sky, chasing the direction Mitt and the others had been taken. The

World Map

pulsed in my vision, the red dots moving steadily back toward the fortress.

I followed.

I soared through the sky, the wind whipping past me as I followed the red dots on the

World Map

. Below, the forest gave way to a clearing where

five or six open Toyota Hilux trucks

were parked, their beds filled with bound men—Mitt, Ryan, Tusk, and the others—ropes cutting into their wrists, their faces bruised and bloodied. The men who had captured them moved with cold efficiency, loading them into the trucks like cattle.

But what

were

they going to do with them?

One of the armed men stepped away from the group, unzipping his pants to relieve himself against a tree. The others didn’t even glance his way—they were too busy securing their prisoners.

A bold idea struck me.

I landed silently behind a thick cluster of trees, my boots barely making a sound as I touched the ground. With a flick of my wrist, I activated the

Magical Tool

, watching as it shifted into a

sci-fi nanotech mask

—a sleek, black, full-face covering that hid every inch of my identity. It molded to my skin, obscuring my features completely, even altering my hair and throat to match whoever I chose.

I crept forward, my steps silent, my body tense. The man—Mike, according to the shouts from his comrades—was still pissing, oblivious to my approach. In one swift motion, I clamped a hand over his mouth and snapped his neck with a sharp crack. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

I didn’t hesitate.