Two days passed in the blink of an eye.
Valkyrie did not fail her task; she successfully convinced the Grandmaster to meet her so-called kinsman. The meeting was set for this afternoon. After lunch, Valkyrie's ship touched down at the ranch, and she walked into the small house carrying a black bag.
"Master!"
Jason sat on the plush sofa, wine glass in hand, and glanced over. Valkyrie was still clad in her cool combat gear. She dropped to one knee, lowering her head until her back was parallel to the floor.
Is this Asgardian etiquette? Jason wasn't sure, but he found himself inexplicably enjoying the gesture. Perhaps it was just his innate desire for conquest acting up.
"You've worked hard. Stand up."
Valkyrie rose efficiently, stepped forward, and bowed slightly as she extended both hands to present the black bag. Jason pointed at it. "What's this?"
"Clothing for your audience with the Grandmaster," She replied with her head bowed. "I specifically selected a style and color he favors."
Impressive. She even considered the wardrobe. Though she was a warrior who wielded Dragonfang, a woman's attention to detail was indeed finer than a man's. Jason nodded with a faint smile, his eyes reflecting approval.
"Well done."
He took the bag and went upstairs to the bedroom to change. Even though Valkyrie was technically his slave, he wasn't yet in the habit of stripping down in front of a woman he barely knew. He unzipped the bag and spread the clothes on the bed.
The outfit was reminiscent of ancient robes; the undergarments were elegant and soft, while the outer robe was a gauzy material stitched with gold thread. Standing before the mirror, Jason adjusted the collar and inspected himself.
"Surprising. It actually fits."
While the shimmering gold was a bit gaudy, Jason was generally satisfied. He had been worried that Sakaar's fashion might involve grass skirts or clunky leather hides.
Thump, thump, thump.
Jason descended the stairs slowly, his robes fluttering behind him. He looked like a handsome prince traveling incognito. Valkyrie looked up slightly, and her eyes instantly lit up. Even though she had already seen Jason's peak physical beauty and had built up some resistance, seeing him in Sakaar's traditional finery added a layer of suave elegance that made the old warrior—who hadn't touched a man in a millennium—feel a sudden flutter.
The dry river of her romantic heart actually started to trickle. Panicked, she quickly lowered her gaze, not daring to meet his eyes.
"Master, there is a match in the Arena tonight. After meeting the Grandmaster this afternoon, it is highly likely you will be asked to step into the ring. The data I sent..."
"Don't worry, I've seen it. Nothing worth noting," Jason replied casually, still preoccupied with his new clothes. Over the last two days, he had memorized the Grandmaster's personality, the Arena's system, the rules, and the fighters. As he said—nothing was worth noting, including the competition.
"Very well. We are departing now."
The ship flew toward the City of Gambling at a steady pace. Valkyrie sat in the pilot's seat, frequently stealing glances at him. She was genuinely concerned for Jason's safety; she had spent the entire trip double-checking the intel with him. Whether she had fallen for his charms or was simply worried his failure would drag her down was unclear.
Jason was slightly annoyed but understood her caution. Fortunately, he answered every question perfectly, which put her mind at ease. Ten minutes later, the City of Gambling loomed ahead.
The city's population and land area were comparable to New York, but in terms of aesthetics and modernization, it was far inferior. Aside from the Grandmaster's palace and the surrounding casinos, there wasn't a building over five stories high. The layout was chaotic—no subways, no overpasses, and even the basic roads were poorly maintained. Whoever designed this city had less skill than a novice player of Cities: Skylines.
Valkyrie slowed the ship and explained, "Ninety percent of the City of Gambling is the slums. There are no laws there, no security. Violent fights break out every day. The strong own everything; the weak merely survive. That is where I started."
Jason looked out with an expressionless face. "With your strength, it should have been easy to escape that."
"It was," Valkyrie recalled. "I came to Sakaar to escape reality. It only took me three months to become the queen of the slums. Then the Grandmaster found me, and I naturally became one of his warriors."
Jason nodded, losing interest after a few glances. In any world, the law of the jungle was the eternal truth. He was a villain, not a philanthropist; he had no interest in playing champion for the downtrodden.
The ship continued into the "CBD" of the city. Here, thousands of casinos, bars, nightclubs, and exchanges were packed together. In the daylight, it didn't look like much, but Jason could tell that once the neon lights hit at night, it would have a certain Las Vegas flavor.
Jason ignored the gambling dens and focused on the Grandmaster's palace. The structure looked like a bloated version of the Oriental Pearl Tower in Shanghai. It served as the Grandmaster's residence, the hub for the space fleet, a hotel, a prison, and a trophy room. The Grandmaster had essentially stuffed every government department into one building. His style was very much that of a shut-in.
"The entrance is ahead," Valkyrie pointed.
Jason looked up to see a dark, rectangular void.
"Ship Smasher, state your business!" A military signal patched into the ship as they approached the gate.
"Scavenger 142. I have a scheduled meeting with the Grandmaster." When speaking to him, one had to use the title "Grandmaster" much like addressing an emperor or president.
"Your data is in the system. Proceed slowly. Disable your fire control systems."
"Understood."
Reducing speed to the minimum, the ship drifted into the tunnel. After a stretch of darkness, the view opened up into a massive docking bay. Beyond visitor ships, there were rows of military fighters.
As the ship docked, Valkyrie said apologetically, "Master, from here on..."
"I know," Jason interrupted. "From now on, we are friends."
They walked off the ship together. Seven armored soldiers armed with laser rifles were lined up in two rows, waiting for them.
.
.
.
.
You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
500 power stones.
Top 100. All time.