Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!
Chapter 496 - 496: The Trapped Decision

Parker stood in the opulent ballroom, his senses reaching out across dimensions like invisible tentacles searching for any trace of his daughter. Nothing.

Absolute fucking nothing.

She'd built a domain. The bitch had constructed some kind of interdimensional barrier that his senses couldn't penetrate, turning his omnipotent awareness into useless background noise.

The realization hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. He'd fallen right into her trap—walked straight into a game where she controlled the board, the pieces, and apparently the rules themselves. Every move he'd made had been anticipated, every response calculated and countered before he'd even thought to make it.

But then again, who knew what lengths she would have gone through to get his attention if he hadn't shown up? Destroying cities? Unmaking realities? Using Nyxavere was beyond what he'd expected, but maybe it wasn't beyond what she was capable of.

The conversation they'd had on the jet came flooding back with horrible clarity. They'd discussed the possibility that this entity had manipulated everything—Chione's death, the champions, the gods, all of it orchestrated by someone who could see the future and past at once like reading it like it was on the back of their palms or had been watching in silence for eons, pulling strings like a puppet master with infinite patience.

They'd been more than right. The truth was probably even deeper than they'd imagined, layers of manipulation going back further than anyone could comprehend.

And now he was facing the possibility of fighting his own daughter—an omniscient being who could kill everyone in this ballroom with a snap of her fingers. Everyone except him, Helena, Maya, and Zhang Ruoyun. The rest were just fragile humans and mid-tier supernaturals who wouldn't survive Nyxavere's anger for even a fraction of a second.

If his daughter went berserk, this place would become a slaughterhouse painted in the blood of innocents who'd simply been in the wrong place when a god decided to have a tantrum.

Parker turned to Helena, his expression grim with paternal terror and universal responsibility. "Finish things here. I have to find—"

That's when everyone gasped.

The sound cut through the ballroom like a knife through silk, five hundred voices creating a collective intake of breath that made Parker's blood run cold. He spun around, following their gaze toward the grand staircase, and felt his heart clench with understanding.

'Fuck. The timing was too perfect. Too calculated.'

Grandfather Wilder was coming down the stairs.

The old man moved with the careful, deliberate steps of someone whose body had betrayed him but whose spirit refused to yield. His silver hair was disheveled from days of unconsciousness, and his weathered face carried the pallor of someone who'd been dancing with death and wasn't entirely sure who had won.

But his eyes—his eyes still burned with the intelligence and determination that had built an empire from nothing and raised a granddaughter strong enough to love the Prince of Existence himself.

Beside him, supporting his weight with the kind of practiced efficiency that spoke of decades of unwavering loyalty, was Bishop.

The bodyguard was a mountain of a man; his dark skin stretched over muscles that looked like they'd been carved from granite by someone with serious anger management issues. His bald head gleamed under the ballroom's chandeliers, and his eyes swept the crowd with the constant assessment of someone who'd spent his life keeping powerful people alive in a world that wanted them dead.

'Fucking bitch.'

Parker's jaw clenched as the realization hit him like a physical blow. She was delaying him by waking up the old man now. She knew exactly how much Tessa loved her grandfather, knew that suddenly leaving when he'd just regained consciousness would be more than disrespectful—it would be cruel to the woman Parker would burn galaxies to protect.

This wasn't about social niceties or political maneuvering. This was about family. About love. About the bonds that made existence worth preserving.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have given a fuck about appearances or timing. He'd have torn through dimensions to find his daughter before she could be turned into a weapon, consequences be damned. But this wasn't normal circumstances.

This was about Tessa's heart. About her relationship with the man who'd shaped her into the woman Parker had fallen in love with. About respecting the people who'd made his woman who she was.

"Grandpa!" Tessa's voice cracked with relief and joy that could have powered small stars as she ran toward the stairs, her designer dress flowing behind her like liquid starlight.

She threw herself into her grandfather's arms with the kind of desperate love that came from thinking you'd lost someone forever, then discovering they were still fighting. The old man's arms wrapped around her with trembling strength that spoke of a will that refused to be broken by mere mortality, and Parker could see tears streaming down both their faces like rain on weathered stone.

The raw emotion in that embrace hit him like a physical force.

"I'm so sorry, Grandpa," Tessa whispered against his chest, her voice breaking with guilt and relief and love so pure it made the air itself seem to shimmer. "I'm sorry for everything. For the marriage, for the pressure, for not being strong enough to protect you from—"

"Hush, my sweet girl," the old man murmured, his voice rough with emotion and medical recovery but carrying the kind of warmth that had shaped Tessa's capacity for love. "None of this is your fault. None of it. You're the light of my life and seeing you safe... that's all that matters."

The old man's voice carried decades of accumulated affection, the kind of love that built foundations strong enough to support empires.

Bishop watched the reunion with a smile that transformed his granite features into something almost gentle.

After decades in this family, he'd watched Tessa grow from a precocious child into the remarkable woman she'd become.

She wasn't just the sweet, smart granddaughter of his employer anymore—she was the daughter he'd never had, the little girl whose scraped knees he'd bandaged and whose nightmares he'd chased away with bedtime stories about brave princesses who saved themselves.

The big man's eyes held the kind of protective love that came from choosing family rather than being born into it.

Parker watched the scene unfold, and despite the universe-ending crisis currently developing with his daughter, he felt something warm and complicated settle in his chest. Seeing Tessa happy, seeing her surrounded by the love that had shaped her into someone strong enough to stand beside him... it mattered.

It mattered more than he'd expected it to.

Helena and Maya exchanged looks that contained entire conversations about human emotional complications and the ways they could derail even the most urgent plans. They both understood the impossible position Parker was in—caught between his duty as a father to find Nyxavere and his love for Tessa, which meant honoring the people who'd made her who she was.

Humans and their sentimental complications. But in this case, maybe the complications were what made them worth protecting.

They both knew Parker was going to stay and greet Tessa's grandfather properly, regardless of the universe-ending crisis currently unfolding. Because that's what you did when you loved someone—you honored the people they loved, even when reality was falling apart around you. Even when your omniscient daughter was somewhere out there, potentially being convinced to murder everyone you'd ever cared about.

Love made you vulnerable. But it also made you human in the ways that mattered most.

The grandfather's eyes found Parker across the ballroom, and despite his weakened condition, his gaze carried the kind of sharp assessment that had built business empires and survived decades of cutthroat politics. But there was something else there too—curiosity, perhaps even a hint of approval as he took in the young man who'd somehow captured his granddaughter's heart.

This was the man who'd raised Tessa to be strong enough to love the Prince of Existence. Who'd taught her that love was worth fighting for, even against impossible odds. The least Parker could do was show him the respect that strength deserved.

But every second he stayed here was another second Nyxavere spent being poisoned against her own family, another moment for the entity to weave her web of lies deeper into his daughter's heart.

The game was getting more vicious by the minute, and Parker was running out of moves that didn't involve choosing between the people he loved most.

The old man took another careful step down, Bishop's steady presence ensuring he wouldn't fall, and Parker found himself caught between duty and devotion, between saving the universe and honoring the small, perfect moment of a family reunited.

Sometimes the most important battles weren't fought with cosmic power. Sometimes they were fought with patience, respect, and the understanding that love came in many forms—all of them worth protecting.