Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!-Chapter 166: When Gods Cook

The man glared now, anger flashing across his face. "Get your hands off me, you rich little shit," he snapped, trying to shove Parker back. "You think you matter because your daddy—"

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the sickening crack of bone. Parker twisted the man’s wrist hard enough that the joint gave way with a pop, the unnatural angle making the crowd gasp.

The man howled in pain, his knees buckling slightly. "You broke my fucking wrist!" he yelled, clutching his arm.

But Parker wasn’t done. Not even close.

The first punch landed square on the man’s nose, the crunch of cartilage breaking echoing through the boutique. Blood sprayed down his face, dripping onto the polished floor.

The man staggered back, one hand clutching his face. "What the fuck, man?!" he shouted, but Parker didn’t let him recover.

Another punch smashed into his cheek, splitting the skin just below his eye. Swelling started immediately, the skin darkening as blood vessels burst.

"How fucking dare you touch her?" Parker growled, stepping forward as the man stumbled back.

A third punch sent him sprawling against the nearest display case, the glass rattling from the impact. The guy’s lip split open, blood dripping onto his shirt. He coughed, trying to catch his breath, but Parker was already on him again.

The next hit landed in his gut, the force knocking the air out of him. He doubled over, gasping, but Parker didn’t let up.

Punch after punch rained down—his jaw, his temple, his ribs. Each hit was met with the wet thud of skin on skin, the man’s face swelling grotesquely. His left eye was already nearly shut, the bruise spreading like a sick, dark flower. Blood streamed from his nose, mixing with the sweat dripping off his chin.

"Stop," the man tried to gasp, his voice barely audible.

"Stop?" Parker echoed, his tone mocking, his knuckles already bloodied. He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, lifting him just enough to drive his fist into his stomach again. The man retched, coughing and groaning as he collapsed back onto the floor.

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"How dare you fucking touch her?!" Parker’s voice was louder now, his anger boiling over. He dropped to his knees, pinning the man beneath him. His fists came down again, over and over.

The crowd around them stood frozen, too stunned to intervene. Some of them flinched with every punch, the sound of bones crunching and skin splitting making their stomachs churn.

The man’s face was almost unrecognizable now. His right cheek was swollen to the size of a fist, his lip torn in multiple places, his nose a mangled mess of blood and cartilage. Every hit seemed to add a new layer of damage, the swelling spreading like wildfire.

"Parker, stop!" Tessa’s voice broke through the haze, trembling but firm.

He didn’t hear her.

The man groaned weakly beneath him, his attempts to shield himself futile. Parker’s fist collided with his temple, sending his head snapping to the side.

"How dare you fucking touch her?!" Parker roared again, his voice shaking with fury. Stay connected through novelbuddy

Tessa froze, her hands trembling at her sides. "He’ll kill him," she whispered, her voice cracking. She was worried what would happen if that happened.

The crowd stood frozen, an eerie silence blanketing the usually lively stretch of Rodeo Drive. No one had their phones out—not because they didn’t want to capture the scene, but because they couldn’t move. Every punch Parker landed drew audible gasps or flinches, his rage so raw and terrifying it paralyzed everyone around.

The surrounding store employees peeked through windows and open doors, their faces a mix of horror and fascination. No one stepped forward to stop him, not even the store security guards. The manager of the boutique had been standing nearby from the moment things started, his arms crossed as if expecting this exact outcome.

"Hold position," he muttered to the guards, who were shifting uncomfortably by the door. His gaze stayed locked on Parker, his lips pressing into a thin line as the guy on the floor groaned and writhed. He didn’t call for help or yell for Parker to stop. Instead, he quietly pulled out his phone and dialed the police, his expression calm, almost detached.

A few murmurs rippled through the crowd, but no one dared to intervene. Some watched in stunned awe; others just stared, their hands gripping shopping bags tightly as if grounding themselves in the moment.

A young couple whispered to each other, but their words would die in their throats the second Parker landed another brutal punch.

When Parker finally stood up, his chest heaving, the man on the floor was barely recognizable. His face was a grotesque canvas of swelling and bruises, blood smeared across his cheeks, dripping onto his shirt. Parker stared down at him, fists still clenched, the urge to kick him one more time crawling up his spine. It would feel so good—so damn good—but even in his fury, Parker knew this wasn’t the place. Not here. Not in the middle of Rodeo Drive.

The faint sound of sirens cut through the tense silence, growing louder with every second. Parker closed his eyes briefly and let out a sharp sigh, his anger still radiating off him like heat from a furnace.

"Parker!"

Tessa’s voice cracked as she ran to him, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. She didn’t hesitate, throwing her arms around him, her face burying into his chest. Her body was trembling, every shaky breath betraying just how rattled she was.

He wrapped an arm around her, his fingers gently petting her head. "You okay?" he murmured, his voice low, almost soft.

Tessa didn’t answer right away, just nodded against him. But her shaking didn’t stop.

"You’re fine," Parker said firmly, like he was willing her to believe it. "He can’t touch you anymore. It’s okay."

But Tessa’s voice was small, almost a whisper. "You went too far... What if they take you to jail?"

Her words hung in the air, and for the first time since it all began, Parker smiled—just a faint curve of his lips. "I’m not going to jail," he said, his tone calm but unwavering. "Trust me."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. "How do you even know? They’re gonna blame you for this. You—"

"Tessa," Parker cut her off, his hands resting on her shoulders. "I need you to go to the car. Now. Before the cops get here."

"But—"

"Go." His voice was firm, but there was a softness beneath it, a quiet reassurance that he had this under control.

Tessa hesitated, her gaze darting between him and the crowd. "What are you gonna do?" she whispered.

"I’ll handle it," he said simply, his eyes flicking down to Ere, who sat silently at his feet. His stare lingered for just a moment, a silent command passing between them. "Don’t let her out of your sight this time and you know what else you should do."

Ere nodded, her golden eyes gleaming as she padded over to Tessa.

The crowd parted slightly as Tessa reluctantly turned and walked away, Ere trailing protectively at her heels. People whispered as she passed, their gazes heavy with a mix of curiosity and shock.

Some of them thought she was abandoning him; others were too stunned to even process what was happening. But Parker’s calm, unwavering expression made it clear—he wanted her gone, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

****

In Olympus gods watched in silence but particularly, Apollo had that smile on his face like he had achieved exactly what he had been aiming for.