While the woman piloted the ship toward the City of Gambling, Jason sat to the side, playing with the helmet with great interest.

The device was incredibly powerful. Its internal recycling system produced fresh oxygen, finally ridding his mouth of that foul, burnt stench. Beyond that, it had a built-in universal communicator for real-time translation and contact with others, and even a database for storing files.

Jason was a quick study; in just a few minutes, he had mastered the controls and begun browsing through the scavenger leader’s database. As a newcomer, his priority was understanding his current predicament.

However, his look of intense concentration struck the woman as the ultimate country bumpkin entering the big city vibe. She glanced at him, mocking, "It’s just a standard-issue helmet. It’s not worth anything."

Jason gave a cryptic smile. "The helmet might be worthless, but the data inside is priceless to me."

"Suit yourself," She shrugged, turning back to the controls.

Silence fell for about ten minutes. Then, she pointed ahead. "We’re here!"

Jason looked through the cockpit window. A massive city lay before them. But there were no skyscrapers, no advanced transit systems, and no dazzling neon lights—just endless clusters of low-slung, dilapidated shacks.

Jason’s face fell. He hadn’t expected his first alien city to look like a slum. Honestly, you couldn’t find a city this backward in America; you’d have to look in the poorest parts of the Global South. Bullshit sci-fi movies, give me back my expectations.

"What’s that tall building?" He asked.

Among the sea of shacks, a single structure rose hundreds of meters into the air, standing out.

"That’s the Grandmaster’s palace. He spends all his time there. Right next to it is the Arena."

Jason studied it for a moment. "That’s where we’re going?"

"Yep."

"To negotiate my entry into the games?"

"Like I said, work with me, everyone gets paid, and I keep you free."

Jason suddenly let out a cold, sinister chuckle. "Are you sure it’s a partnership? Or are you just selling me to the Grandmaster?"

The woman’s posture stiffened. The ship gave a slight wobble.

"What... What are you talking about? I told you, everyone on Sakaar is a slave to the Grandmaster. There is no buying or selling. I’m just introducing you. With my connections, getting your freedom is easy. It’s a fair trade."

Jason didn’t argue. He tapped his earpiece, brought up the screen in the database, and began reading aloud like he was reciting a textbook.

"Scavenger 142. Real name unknown. Extremely high danger index. Heavy drinker. One of the Grandmaster’s most effective hounds, specializing in capturing powerful drifters in exchange for commissions... Oh, so this is the job you were talking about."

Jason looked up, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Shall I keep reading?"

The woman’s expression turned somber. The smile vanished, and the ship slowly drifted to a halt in mid-air.

"Haaa..." She let out a heavy sigh, slapped her forehead, and said regretfully, "Damn it. I shouldn’t have let you keep the helmet. I should have finished off those scavenger trash earlier."

Jason looked at her. "Don’t blame others. I started doubting you long before I checked the data."

Jason’s body was a vessel that had absorbed the core energy of the Mind Stone. He was essentially a human version of the Stone—a Jinchuriki, of sorts. Though the core energy was still wild and unyielding inside him, and it would take a long time to master it perfectly, he had already gained a touch of the divine.

From the moment she appeared, he had sensed her ill intent. That was the intuition of the Mind Stone.

Jason continued flipping through the files. "The records say you’re tough and ruthless, usually knocking drifters unconscious before delivering them. Why didn’t you try that with me? Why weave a lie even a child wouldn’t believe?"

Seeing her carefully prepared plan dismissed as worthless, the woman didn’t get angry. She was a warrior, not a con artist. "I saw your power—that trash mountain you leveled. I can do it too, but fighting you would be a massive pain. I thought it’d be easier to lure you into the palace and let the Grandmaster’s people handle it. Even if it meant my commission got cut in half."

The palace has the Grandmaster’s army, plus the man himself is a powerhouse. An Invitation to the Trap was actually a smart move.

"Avoiding a fight with an unknown enemy? Good idea. I would have done the same," Jason nodded in approval. "Now that the curtain is pulled back, what’s your next move?"

The woman leaned back, looking at him with renewed interest. "What do you think I should do?"

Jason held up two fingers. "You had malicious intent toward me. Ordinarily, I would kill you. But if you don’t want to die, let’s follow local customs. Be my slave instead."

"Haha!" She laughed, her eyes flashing with a provocative light. "What kind of slave?"

Jason, completely shameless, said plainly, "The bed-warming kind, obviously. I can’t leave this planet for now, but I’m a man. After a while, a man has needs."

"I mean, you’re a bit dark-skinned, your clothes are ugly, and you reek of booze... but this is an alien planet. Compared to the multi-colored, freakish females I’ve seen, you’re at least human-shaped enough to make it work."

"Fine! I’ll take option two!" She agreed readily, leaving the pilot’s seat and walking toward him with a smile. "I like a little foreplay. Let’s start with a hug."

Jason nodded without a second thought. "I like foreplay too. Otherwise, it hurts."

The plot had taken a 180-degree turn! These two, who had been at each other’s throats moments ago, were now grinning and moving in for an embrace.

But before the romance could start, a muffled thud rang out inside the ship. Jason, still smiling, asked, "Does your knee hurt?"

The woman shoved him away, her brow twitching uncontrollably. She had tried to hug him tight and then deliver a brutal knee strike to his groin to end his bloodline. But his crotch was like solid granite. Instead of crippling him, she had nearly shattered her own kneecap. The pain was so intense her face was contorting.

"Heh. Shocked? Never seen one that hard before?"

Enraged, she pulled out a small device and slammed the button.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt!

A surge of electricity crackled against Jason’s back. She glared at him with a predatory grin. "Go to hell, you freak!"

A few seconds ticked by. Her expression shifted from the high of revenge to a confused, blank stare. "You... why aren’t you unconscious?"

Jason stood there, completely unfazed. He shrugged, looking genuinely puzzled. That’s it?

He reached behind his back, plucked the small device off his suit, and held it up to examine it. "What is this? I thought it was a bomb."

Finding no answers, Jason closed his hand and crushed the device into fine powder. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

The woman backed away, panic finally visible on her face. That device was a neurotoxin delivery system; once triggered, it paralyzed muscles instantly. It was her legendary tool for capturing drifters, a weapon that had never failed her—until today.

Shit. This man is way stronger than I thought.

Without a word, she turned and bolted for the exit, not even caring about her expensive ship.

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You can read advance Chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.

pat reon.com/GreenBlue17

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