In a different part of the Nexus city. A part that few know about.
Unlike the more 'entertaining' side, which new or low-rank gods like to play in. The back alleys and corners are where the power lies. And this is the part of the Nexus city that the ones who work behind the curtain use. It's here that the brokers and sliders play their trade. Here, the 'hired' gods play their part in the big dance. It's here where the shadier powers gather. The powers that work within the rules of the Nexus and the system, but they tried to bend it a little to their own advantage.
What Morgana experienced in the city was simply the tip of the iceberg.
Here in the underground city, you can find everything, from drugs and weapons to sex and people.
This is the 'business' part of the City of the Gods.
Aside from the gods who bought lands here and started all kinds of industries. Some are good and some are not so good.
For example, while you could hire a mentor anywhere in the Nexus to help you design a good, stable world.
In the underground, it's a little bit different. You can hire a mentor to teach you how to build a certain type of world not accessible to many. Dark, twisted, dangerous, violent. Worlds that are built on blood and pain. You can buy templates for a high price here.
And this was just a small fraction of the underground city.
Here, gods could just straight up buy and sell their followers and creations.
One of the most popular faith-making strategies is the classical Hero vs Demon king template.
Many gods cultivated worlds for this specific reason. When one of their creations shows promising potential, the god takes that creation and sells it to a broker for a lot of money. And when another god is in need of a hero or a demon king. He'll just buy that promising creation and play the scenario of "Transport to another world/isekai"
The underground Nexus wasn't advertised, nor was it mapped. You didn't stumble into it by accident—the streets themselves seemed to fold away from it unless you were meant to find them. Where the main city blazed with neon runes and divine banners, here the lamps burned low, their light tinted in bruised shades of violet and green. Shadows weren't just shadows; they clung to you, weighed down your steps, whispered bargains into your ears.
This was not a place for spectacle. It was a marketplace of secrets.
A figure shrouded in black walked down a well-known alley. The services in this alley were unique.
First, most gods who run the business here were no longer gods, but Nexus employees. Fallen gods who lost their stats and rights to build and create, with no other option to survive, they sold themselves to the Nexus to work as literal slaves, bound to the Nexus.
Ironic, isn't it? Mighty gods reduced to slaves.
This is the cold fact of this universe. Show weakness and you become someone's meal.
Step!
The cloaked figure stood in front of a three-story building that was designed in a similar style to Earth's 21st-century agency buildings. There was a name on the sign that said 'The Collectors.' It looked like the sign had been placed there long ago, and it had seen better days. The wooden boards were worn, the paint faded, the metal gilt flaking. It had been years since someone had touched it up.
Despite the rugged appearance, this place offers one of the most important services in the entire Nexus.
Collecting.
Sometimes, young naïve gods get tricked by their own creation or the hero they just summoned and end up giving them too much power and authority. Sometimes the hero or the demon king becomes too big a threat, too greedy for power, or they simply ignore, refusing to play their part in the game of the gods.
No matter the reason, if you need to strip the hero or demon king of their power, or just cut them out of the story. There's no one better to call than the collectors.
They were a group of beings who worked for the Nexus. They had the power to directly interfere in the mortal worlds. They usually worked alongside the Nexus police to maintain order and bring balance to the universe.
Yes... Cops! Space cop? Nope! God cops!
Just like in the mortal world, this place has laws, rules, and regulations.
And most of all, a hierarchy.
Make no mistake — the Nexus City and the gods are just beings with immortality and immense powers; strip that away, they are no different from mortals. In fact, there are worlds where every single native is a god.
Gods create mortal worlds, primordials create godly worlds.
Everything is the same thing; it's just that the scale is bigger.
...
"Good evening, what can I do for you?"
The receptionist greeted with a professional smile. She was wearing the traditional black-and-white uniform, with a short skirt, showing off her legs. She was very pretty, with pale skin and rosy cheeks; her dark red hair was tied up in a neat bun on top of her head. The receptionist was the first line of defense in the agency. If anyone wanted to see her boss, they had to pass through her.
"I have an appointment with your madam," the cloaked figure spoke, showing the receptionist a black card with the letter X on it.
The receptionist took the card, studied it for a moment, and nodded to herself.
"Of course, you can go right in."
The figure nodded and proceeded to take the elevator to the second floor, where he knocked twice on the door with the single X on it.
"Come in," a voice came from the other side.
The cloaked figure opened the door and walked inside. The room was designed with a very professional feel to it; the furniture was all made from black wood, and the walls were painted a light blue. There was a huge mahogany desk in the center of the room. There were two armchairs in front of the desk.
"Oh~... Long time no see, One-eyed."
A voice came from behind the desk.
A mature woman with long red hair, wearing a black office suit, sat behind the desk, legs crossed, her lips curved into a slight smile. She had one good green eye fixed on the cloaked figure as he stood before her, while the other was hidden behind a black eyepatch.
The figure was none other than Odin, the All-Father, the god-king of the Norse pantheon.
'You also have one eye, bitch,' he almost spat at her, but he managed to stop himself in time.
He was not here to get into an argument. He was here for business.
The red-haired woman leaned back in her chair, the leather creaking softly. Her presence filled the office just as much as Odin's did—calm, assured, dangerous. She tapped her manicured nail against the armrest, studying him with that one piercing green eye.
"You don't change much," she said, voice smooth, like silk stretched over steel, before pulling a cigar from her pocket and lighting it up. "Still carrying the weight of the Nine Realms on your shoulders, I see. Tell me, did you come here to drink, to deal, or to beg?"
"Neither," Odin smirked faintly, the kind of smirk that carried the bitterness of centuries. "I came because I require your service."
"Hmm... let me guess?" she leaned forward, taking a slow draw on her cigar. "It's related to your recent fuck-up in the arena, no?"
"..." His silence was louder than any words.
"Heheh... I thought so." The woman chuckled softly, taking another draw of her cigar. "That was an amazing show; I never thought that a low-rank goddess would dare to literally fuck your warrior in front of the whole arena. But I suppose that's what makes this place such a spectacle. Anything is possible."
"You seem to have a lot of free time," he deadpanned.
"Oh, I've always got time to play," she said with a wink. "Just not enough for your tastes, no? Well, I don't blame you; the little princess seems to be a very busy girl, trying to snatch a daughter in front of her own mother."
"..."
"What the fuck were you thinking, Odin? You can't just walk up to people and 'ask' them to sell you their daughters." She shook her head, taking another draw on her cigar. "You got what you deserved."
Odin felt his blood boil. How dare she treat him like that? Who the hell did she think she was? She was a mid-rank god. She knew nothing about the struggles he had to endure, the battles he had fought, the decisions he made, the price he had paid.
However, despite all of this, Odin swallowed his anger; he needed this woman, he needed her position — the Collector.
"Are you done?" he asked, voice soft but dangerous, like a snake hidden in the tall grass.
"Almost," she smiled.
"I need you to locate her world for me," Odin said, keeping his voice low. "And I will make it worth your while."
The woman sat back in her chair, staring at him with that sharp green eye. She didn't say anything and just kept puffing on her cigar. Odin's good eye narrowed, waiting.
"Odin, you know the rules," she finally said. "I can't abuse my position; the Nexus would definitely—"
"I'll grant you the artifact you seek," Odin cut her off.
"!!!" Her eye widened ever so slightly.
"Just find her world by any means necessary."