I told Humble's wife that justice has been served and in return she asked, "Where is it served? And can I get five of them?"
Ma'am this ain't Swiggy, this is a war crime trial dressed as a soap opera.
But before moving on, I had a sudden flashback. Justice reminded me of this courtroom gem:
A Husband and Wife were at custody court.
The judge looked at the ex-wife like she just pissed in his cereal.
Judge: "Why do you think you deserve custody of the child?"
Ex-wife: "I brought him into this world. He came out of me. My uterus deserves visitation rights."
Judge: "Hmm. Gross but fair."
Then he looked at the ex-husband.
Judge: "Your turn."
The man thought long and hard. Like he was trying to divide by zero. Then he said, "If I put money into a Pepsi machine and a Pepsi comes out... is it mine, or the machine's?"
And honestly? Bars.
Anyway—cut back to the woman standing in front of me like she's waiting for a justice buffet.
"Justice is not a dish, lady," I said.
She looked down like I'd just slapped her hope with a frying pan.
"Oh. Right. I am sorry."
I ignored her emotional dip. I didn't have time for her tragic heroine in a daily soap arc.
"You may go inside your mansion with your lover. Divorce your husband and marry this Ovary fellow. You have my blessings."
"Thank you, my lord," Ovary finally said, like he just found out I wasn't going to smite him with a thunderbolt.
The woman floated toward Ovary like he was made of gold-plated TikTok followers.
"What about me?" Humble asked from the sidelines, looking like a rejected Bigg Boss contestant.
"Divorce her. You just want her money. You don't love her," I said, casually shattering his delusions like they were made of boiled glass.
"I do love her!" he wailed. "I just laughed because the jokes were funny. I am just a human, my lord."
That excuse was so weak, even a toddler would side-eye it.
"Just give her a divorce, man. Let her be happy. Return her stuff and go chase clout elsewhere."
"But my lo—"
Oh my god, not again.
"Fine. You won't understand with words. Guess I gotta pull out the holy nuke."
I activated one of my Skills:
[ Father went to buy milk. ]
I touched Humble's forehead with one finger.
WHOOSH!
Homeboy flew like Team Rocket blasting off again—straight into the stratosphere with his dignity clinging to his toes.
Everyone turned their necks like they were watching a cricket ball in the sky.
Then… they clasped their hands and began the mourning parade.
"He was a good man."
"May his soul find peace."
"He once gave me his last biscuit. Truly noble."
"He always helped me when I was in need."
I blinked. "He's not dead. I just sent him to a random place."
Suddenly all hands unclasped like they were caught in the act.
"Oh. We lied for nothing then."
"You all LIED?! Someone just said he always helped you when you were in need!"
"Nah, I don't even know the guy. I just copied what everyone else was saying."
These people were more fake than Instagram influencers using dog filters to hide their breakup acne.
"Alright. Go back to your work. Show's over."
The crowd shuffled away like disappointed paparazzi who didn't get a scandal.
I turned to the couple.
"You two can go inside now. Humble won't come back. Enjoy."
They bowed.
Well, only Ovary bowed. Aphrodite just tilted her head like a malfunctioning robot. But hey, points for effort.
Once they vanished indoors, only me and Erect were left on the road.
"Let's go back, my lord. Let's have breakfast," he said, all polite and wholesome. But I ain't going back to his house to consume unicorn's liquid children.
"No thanks. I'll return to my castle."
"As you wish. I'll come in an hour. Sophia will miss you though."
"Hmm. Why don't you and Sophia just move in with me? Castle's too damn big. I'll call my family too. But only I cook."
I was already planning to summon the chaos squad (aka my family) to the castle, but let's be real—I couldn't handle them alone.
My grandpa might start hitting on that Centaur Mia and that Ogre Abella.
Mom might accidentally murder me with her Goblin sister.
Dad? That man would sneak around trying to spike my tea with his milk.
Yeah. I needed at least one functioning brain cell in that castle besides mine. Erect fits the bill.
"What do you say?" I asked.
"I'd love to, but I can't leave my childhood home. It has too many memories of me and my sister."
"I'll double your salary."
"When are we leaving, my lord?"
And THAT, kids, is how capitalism works.
I never worked in corporate, but I've been a slave to dumber things. Like friendship. And hentai.
Erect sold his nostalgia faster than a YouTuber selling out to Raid Shadow Legends.
"You used to get 5000 Morals per month. From now, you'll get 10,000 Morals every two months. Boom. Doubled."
I clapped like a seal that just learned math.
Erect squinted at me. "That's not how you dou—"
"LET'S GOOOOO! Your new house is waiting!"
I slapped my hand on Erect and activated the ultimate Skill:
[ Premature Ejaculation ]
Poof.
We teleported to the castle.
"Pick any room. Make yourself at home. Send a letter to Sophia. I'm cooking. Don't question anything. Just vibe."
Then I vanished again—up to my top-floor room like a gremlin avoiding tax collectors.
No way was I facing Erect until he gave up on trying to correct my salary math.
My generosity was FINAL.
30 minutes later, I made breakfast for us both.
And no, I wasn't some Sigma male Earth-born chef. I had a Skill.
[ Master Chef ]
A surprisingly normal name for something that lets me cook omelets capable of seducing dragons.
Anyway, I ordered a guard to deliver food to Erect. I didn't go to meet him myself. I would wait for a while before meeting him.
Anyway, I had a light meal—just a petite serving of crocodile meat.
Not because I wanted to. It's just that the castle's fridge looks like a wildlife documentary gone wrong.
Seriously, we have enough dead reptiles to summon a lizard god.
I made the dish edible. For humans, I mean. Probably.
Anyway, this is a time for a cliffhanger. I have to do something here.
I mean, well, you know what they say about cliffhangers;