The multiversal mogul was back in the main world, fresh from his latest escapades, and it was ti to check on his empire. He tapped his upgraded Chaos Watch—now sleek, matte-black, and less "look-at-" than its previous disco-ball aesthetic. A holographic interface flickered to life, connecting him to the Elysium Space Station and Earth’s restoration efforts. "VIKI, give the rundown on Elysium and Earth. And make it snappy, I’ve got a spaceship to design."
VIKI’s voice, dripping with her newly developed snark, chid in. "Elysium: 98% operational, population thriving, and Jessica Delacourt’s ruling like Cleopatra with a laser sword. Earth’s restoration? 72% complete—rainforests are popping back up, eco-techno hos are the new chic."
Raja grinned, twirling his Trishul-shaped pen. "Alright, let’s talk weapons."
He strode to his Experintal Magic Lab in Elysium, where alchemy t sci-fi. With a wave of his hand, he conjured a rack of glowing weaponry: plasma-infused Assault Rifles, rune-etched Desert Eagles, and a grenade launcher that fired miniaturized black holes (safely contained, of course). "These’ll do for now, but I need a spaceship. Sothing sleek, multiversal, and with a coffee machine that doesn’t burn the beans."
MAYA sighed. "A spaceship? Really? You’ve got a dragon, Raja."
"Ragnarok can’t brew espresso and travel space," Raja shot back, tweaking his Chaos Watch. "Done. Upgraded the watch’s cloaking runes. Now it’s subtle enough to wear in a boardroom without screaming ’I’m a god.’ Ti to check on the Resident Evil world."
With a snap of his fingers, Raja’s Blink spell teleported him to the Resident Evil Earth, now a patchwork of green recovery zones and high-tech eco-hos. He strolled through a restoration base, noting the 72% progress on his Chaos Watch’s HUD.
Alice was in Africa, Rain in Asia, and Jill in South Arica, each overseeing rainforest regrowth and zombie cleanup. "Not bad," Raja muttered, admiring a newly planted jungle. Then, his eyes caught sothing far more... distracting.
A woman bent over to pick up a pen, her silhouette showcasing a big, round, hot ASS that could’ve inspired a Renaissance sculptor.
Raja’s Incubus instincts flared. "Well, hello there," he whispered, ntally comparing her to Alexa Woods from his Predator days. "Missed opportunities, huh?"
The woman straightened, turning to reveal Nurse Betty from Claire Redfield’s crew.
Raja’s grin widened. "Hi, Betty. Long-ti no see!"
Betty’s face, initially bright, soured like she’d bitten a lemon. "Hello, Commander," she said, her tone colder than a yeti’s toenails. "Yes, long ti no see. What can I do for you?"
Raja blinked, his god-tier charm faltering. "Betty, did I do sothing to upset you? Why the hostility? We just t after ages!"
Betty snorted, crossing her arms. "What, you forgot already? You left my boyfriend to beco a zombie. You may be the Shadow King, ssiah of this world, but to , you’re just a deserter." She spun on her heel, her jiggling assets vanishing into the base’s corridor.
Raja’s jaw hit the floor. "Ouch. That’s a new one." A pang of guilt—or was it indigestion?—stirred in his Demi-god chest.
Then he smirked, watching her retreat. "Still got it, though." The evil glint in his eye promised chaos.
Later that evening, Betty trudged ho, exhausted from monitoring bio-dos. She froze at her unlocked door, instincts kicking in. Pulling a stun gun from her bag, she crept inside, only to find a shirtless, ripped Adonis cooking in her kitchen, the air thick with curry and swagger. "Hands up and turn around!" she barked.
Raja turned slowly, his abs glistening like they’d been oiled by angels.
Betty’s eyes widened, her stun gun firing reflexively. The taser pins hit his chest, sparking uselessly against his godlike durability.
Raja just grinned. "Hi, Betty. Decided to cook you an apology dinner. Hope you like Indian!"
Betty, still tasing him, snapped out of her abs-induced trance. "Oh crap!" She dropped the gun, rushed over, and yanked the pins out, her hands brushing his pecs. She froze again, blushing crimson. "Uh... sorry?"
Raja chuckled, taking her hand and whispering, "Let’s eat before the food gets cold."
Betty, now a shade of tomato, nodded and shuffled to the dining table.
Raja served up White washed Indian food fragrant biryani, butter chicken, and naan that glowed faintly (magical yeast, don’t ask).
Betty took a bite and squealed, "This is divine! Are you secretly a chef god too?" She devoured the al, her grudge lting faster than the butter in the curry.
Over wine, they chatted about recipes, books, and Raja’s wild plans for multiversal eco-cities. "So, you’re telling you’ve got a dragon and a space station?" Betty asked, wide-eyed.
"Yup," Rudra said, sipping his wine. "Ragnarok’s great, but he keeps eating my enchanted sneakers."
Ti flew, and by 11 PM, Rudra stood to leave. "Alright, Betty, ti to go. I hope you forgive for not being literally God. See you around."
Betty’s face fell, a flicker of disappointnt in her eyes. "You’re forgiven, Shadow King. I was just mad about my ex. Sorry for the cold shoulder. See you again?"
Raja nodded, stepping out. Betty closed the door, sighing. "Why do I feel like I missed sothing?"
A knock startled her. She opened the door, heart racing, to find Raja, eyes blazing with lust. "Did you forget sothing?" she asked, shyly.
Raja didn’t answer. He pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her with the intensity of a thousand suns.
Betty matched his passion, her hands tearing at his shirt as he squeezed her curvy assets. Clothes hit the floor like confetti at a wizard wedding. "Get ready for a Divine Fuck," Raja growled.
Raja naked with Raging Boner and Betty naked with Curvy Hour glass body jumped on to him and sloppy kissing each other.
That night, Raja lost count how many tis he nutted. Energy potions kept Betty in the ga, and she turned the tables, treating him like her personal Sex Toy. "You’re not escaping this ti, Shadow King!" she teased, fulfilling his wildest requests with zero hesitation. Raja’s mind lted into a puddle of lust.
For a week, they found every private corner for quickies and BJ’s... They felt like Divine. "I’m gonna need a new bedfra," Betty panted after one session. Raja just smirked, "Worth it."
Exhausted but satisfied, Raja returned to the main world, his Chaos Watch humming. "MAYA, I need a spaceship. Ti to hit the Alien & Predator world."
"Again?" MAYA groaned. "You just got laid for a week straight. Focus, Raja."
"Focus is my middle na," Raja lied, stepping into his enchanted pod.
"MAYA, comnce soul sleep. Destination: Predator world."
He awoke midair, plumting through an alien sky with no parachute.
Below, unconscious humans in suits fell alongside a container of writhing creatures. "Oh, great," Raja muttered. "Skydiving without a chute. Typical Tuesday."
Using his fall’s montum, Raja zood toward the container, catching it just as its parachute deployed. The chute slowed the descent, but not enough. With godlike reflexes, he cut the cords of the chute and caught it reduced his falling montum, swung onto a tree branch near him, sorsaulted midair, and landed in a superhero pose, the container crash landed beside him. "Nailed it," he said, dusting off his hands.
He geared up: two Desert Eagles, an assault rifle, grenades, incendiaries, flashbangs, and his Enchanted Arnold Knife (nad after Schwarzenegger, obviously). "No powers, no tech,"
Raja declared. "Just military training. Let’s make my trainer in Limitless-world proud."
His telepathy pinged a survivor—a woman with a sniper rifle. Moving like a ghost through the jungle, he approached her position, using nature for stealth.
She was scoping fallen bodies, oblivious to him.
Raja pressed a Desert Eagle to her head. "Don’t move, Sniper Lady. Two questions: Did you fall from the sky? Do you know why we’re here?"
"Yes," she said calmly. "And no."
Raja lowered his gun. "Cool. Don’t shoot when I relax, ’cause I’m too young to die."
A sudden burst of gunfire erupted—a Russian with a mini-Gatling mowing down survivors.
"Rude!" Raja shouted, sprinting and dropkicking the guy. "Can you not shoot people without asking questions?"
He waved to the others. "I got him, guys! Don’t shoot either—we’re all skydiving buddies here."
An Arican soldier shouted, "We won’t! Co out slowly."
The group erged, guns raised, but Raja strolled out, fully geared and grinning like a rookie who’d just won the lottery. "Hi, different race people! I’m Rudra D. Raja Kumara, call Raja. From India. I just fell from the sky without any parachute."
"How’d you survive?" they chorused, horrified.
Raja smirked. "Oh, you know, caught a parachuted container midair, cut the cords, swung through trees, sorsaulted, and superhero-landed. Cool, right?"
Jaws dropped. The Arican shook his hand. "Royce, rcenary."
"Cuchillo, xican cartel enforcer," said another.
"Nikolai, Spetsnaz," grunted the Russian.
Raja eyed the sniper. "IDF sniper Isabelle. More parachutes that way."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Raja chirped, striding off. "Adventure awaits!"
Royce grabbed his collar. "Kid, what’s the last thing you rember?"
Raja’s deanor shifted. In a blur, he slamd Royce to the ground, gun to his head. "Sorry, reflexes. I was hunting terrorists in Kashmir when—poof—white light, skydiving. Shoddy custor service, honestly."
The group twitched. "Sa here," Cuchillo said. "Baja."
"Chechnya," Nikolai added.
Isabelle frowned. "This jungle’s wrong. Not Asia, not Africa. Maybe Amazon."
Raja laughed. "Unknown jungle, unknown friends—perfect! Let’s find more adventure buddies!"
Royce groaned. "Kid, chill." But Raja was already marching off, spotting a hidden Yakuza. "Oye, Yakuza! No need to hide. Let’s group up and find who yeeted us from a plane!"
The Yakuza stepped out, unfazed. The group shook their heads at Raja’s relentless positivity, trailing him to avoid him getting shot. "This kid’s gonna get us killed,"
Royce muttered, "or save us all."
To Be Continued...
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