The Parthenon, a monument that had survived Persian invasions and Ottoman cannons, was now bearing witness to something far more destructive: a Rank-S ego.
Torches were lit along the inner perimeter of the temple, casting flickering, amber shadows against the towering Doric columns. The scent of roasted lamb and heavy, resinous wine filled the air, mingling with the unmistakable musk of three dozen hyper-masculine warriors who had suddenly decided that "War" was a secondary hobby compared to "Admiration."
"To the Guest of Honor!" Leonidas bellowed, raising a massive amphora. "To the man who conquered the Iron Phalanx without drawing a blade!"
"To the Shiny One!" the men roared in unison.
I sat on a pile of lion skins, the [Belt of Irresistible Grace] fastened around my waist. It felt warm against my skin, sending a constant, low-frequency hum of confidence through my nerves. Every time I moved, the golden links of the belt caught the firelight, and I could see the pupils of every warrior in the room dilate.
[Passive Buff: Irresistible Grace.]
[Effect: Aggression in others is 100% converted into 'Fanatical Devotion'.]
[Notice: You have accidentally started a cult.]
"Now!" Leonidas shouted, tearing off his remaining leather harness. He stood there, a mountain of scarred meat and bronze-tanned skin. "The main event! The Sacred Wrestling of the Ancients! No armor, no magic, just the strength of the soul!"
I stood up, letting my [Cloak of Partial Invisibility] slide to the floor. Underneath, I was wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers I'd bought in the Lotte Tower. The reaction was immediate. A collective gasp echoed through the temple. Even Leonidas stumbled back half a step, his face turning a shade of purple that would have made a grape jealous.
"He's... he's glowing," one of the guards whispered, dropping his roasted meat.
[System Notification]
[Bishonen Energy x10,000 Multiplier active.]
[Current 'Indecency' Score: 45,000 and climbing.]
"Come on, Leonidas," I said, beckoning him with a smirk. "You wanted to test me. Don't tell me the 'Iron Phalanx' is made of tin."
Leonidas roared—more out of embarrassment than anger—and lunged. He was fast for a man his size, his hands reaching out to grab my shoulders in a crushing grip. But to me, moving with Level 99 Agility and the grace of the belt, he was moving through molasses.
I didn't dodge entirely. I let him close the distance. As his hands touched my skin, the [Belt of Irresistible Grace] pulsed.
The moment our skin met, Leonidas froze. His muscles, which should have been tensing for a throw, went limp. His eyes went wide, and his breath hitched. I leaned in, my chest inches from his, and whispered, "Your form is perfect. But you're holding your breath. Relax."
I grabbed his wrists and, with a gentle twist of my hips, tripped the seven-foot giant. He hit the sand-covered floor with a heavy thud, and I landed on top of him, pinning his arms over his head.
The silence in the Parthenon was absolute. The God of War's chosen leader had been pinned in five seconds by a man who looked like he belonged on a fashion runway.
"I... I yield," Leonidas wheezed, his face buried in the sand. "I yield to the Grace!"
"JIN-WOOOOOO!"
The roar didn't come from the men. It came from the sky.
A bolt of violet shadow slammed into the center of the wrestling ring, sending sand and warriors flying. Yuna stood in the crater, her hair standing on end, her katanas vibrating with such frequency they were humming a high-pitched death knell. Behind her, the air shattered into a thousand shards of ice as Park So-Hee descended, her face a mask of absolute, frozen fury.
"I leave you alone for twenty minutes," So-Hee said, her voice dropping the temperature in the temple by thirty degrees instantly. "And I find you pinned to a giant, half-naked, in the middle of a temple."
"Jin-Woo," Yuna hissed, her eyes glowing with a yandere light that made the Phalanx warriors scramble backward in terror. "Why is there sand on your back? Why is that meathead blushing? I'm going to turn this entire hill into a graveyard!"
"Wait, wait!" I said, standing up and dusting myself off. "It's a cultural exchange! We were just... testing the belt."
"Oh, I'll show you a cultural exchange," So-Hee snapped. She snapped her fingers, and several warriors were instantly encased in blocks of ice up to their necks. "We have a diplomatic crisis at the airport, Interpol is breathing down our necks, and you're playing Spartan games?"
[Warning: Harem Tension at Critical Levels.]
[Notice: The 'Goddess of Beauty' is laughing so hard she has fallen off her throne.]
Elena, the priestess, stepped out from behind a pillar, looking thoroughly entertained. "Now, now, ladies. The belt requires a transition period. Jin-Woo was simply... calibrating it."
"Shut up, Priestess," Yuna spat, pointing a blade at Elena's throat. "One more word and I'll see if Aphrodite can stitch your head back on."
Suddenly, the ground began to shake. It wasn't the rhythmic thumping of the Phalanx. It was a deep, tectonic groan. From the shadows of the inner sanctum of the Parthenon, a new presence emerged.
He was taller than Leonidas, draped in blood-red robes, and carrying a spear that dripped with actual, fresh gore. His eyes were burning coals behind a bronze helm.
Deimos. The God of Terror. Or at least, an Avatar of him.
"Enough of this farce!" Deimos bellowed. The sound was like a thousand shields clashing. "The belt of my father's mistress does not belong on a mortal who plays with shadows and ice! Hand it over, or Athens shall burn tonight!"
The Phalanx warriors, previously under my spell, fell to their knees in terror. The 'Absolute Aggression' field hadn't just returned; it had evolved into 'Absolute Terror'.
I looked at So-Hee. I looked at Yuna. Their anger toward me instantly vanished, replaced by their instinct to protect their 'property'.
"He's staying with us, you overgrown toothpick," Yuna growled, her shadow-blades extending three feet.
"And he's keeping the belt," So-Hee added, her ice-crown manifesting on her head. "It matches his eyes."
I stepped forward, the [Belt of Irresistible Grace] glowing brighter than ever. I looked at the God of Terror and felt my EXP bar twitch.
"Terror is just another form of passion, Deimos," I said, my voice echoing with the power of a Level 99 Hunter. "And I've always been good at redirecting energy."
[New Quest: Terrifying the Terror.]
[Objective: Make the God of Terror 'Flustered' in front of his followers.]
[Reward: 3 Billion EXP.]
I cracked my neck and winked at the cameras of the drones still hovering above.
"Ladies," I said to my harem. "Hold my cloak. I think I need to show this God why they call me the Pervert Hunter."