Loot
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 14
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Lu stood motionless in the moonlit clearing, seven feet of flawless, blood-streaked marble. His body was drenched in a thick, viscous sweat that his new biology produced in place of normal perspiration—sweet-scented, almost syrupy, glistening like liquid gold under the moonlight. It mixed with the darker crimson of the five dead smugglers, turning every ridge of his abs and the deep valleys between his pecs into glistening, obscene artwork. The sharp, sugary smell of his earlier orgasm still hung heavy in the air, overpowering the metallic tang of blood and the earthy rot of spilled cocaine.
He placed his huge hands on his hips, elbows flared, and looked down at the broken bodies with the casual disdain of a man who had just stepped on a cockroach. No guilt. No nausea. No whisper of conscience. Humanity had become something distant, almost comical. These men were less than insects to him now.
A low, inhuman chuckle rolled out of his chest—deep, smug, vibrating through the trees.
“Pathetic little things,” he murmured, voice like velvet thunder. “You really thought those toys could touch a god.”
He dragged one massive palm across his chest, smearing blood and sweat into a glistening streak. When he flicked his wrist, the sticky mixture clung stubbornly; he had to shake his hand several times, watching the thick strands stretch and finally snap free. The motion made his pecs bounce heavily, and he grinned at the sight.
Satisfied, he turned toward the scattered backpacks. Five heavy duffels lay in the dirt, zippers burst open. He crouched—thighs flexing like steel cables—and tore the first one wide.
Cash. Thick bricks of hundred-dollar bills, rubber-banded and pristine. The next two were the same—more money than most people saw in a lifetime. The last two were packed with fat, vacuum-sealed bricks of cocaine, each one stamped with a crude skull logo.
Lu’s golden eyes lit up.
He plucked one brick from the nearest bag, slit the plastic with a long, perfectly manicured nail, and scooped out a generous line of white powder. He brought the nail to his nose and inhaled sharply.
The rush hit instantly—pure euphoria, crystalline focus, a warm golden wave of invincibility flooding every cell. No crash. No paranoia. No damage. His enhanced body simply absorbed the drug like fuel, turning it into liquid power. He laughed—loud, megalomaniacal, delighted—and plunged his entire face into the open bag, taking a deep, greedy breath.
When he pulled back, his nostrils were dusted white, pupils blown wide with starlight. He felt *omnipotent*.
“Mine,” he whispered to the night. “All of it. Everything.”
A soft gurgle of water reached his ears. Not far away, a mountain river cut through the trees, its surface silver under the moon. Lu stood, grabbed all five duffels in one hand as though they weighed nothing, and leapt.
He hit the water like a golden cannonball. The cold river closed over him, but the chill was merely pleasant. He surfaced, shook his head, and began to scrub. The sticky sweat resisted at first; he scooped handfuls of smooth river stones and ground them against his skin like pumice. The stones crumbled to fine powder against his impervious flesh, polishing every inch until the blood and sweat washed away in cloudy swirls. He worked methodically—under his pecs, between the deep grooves of his eight-pack, down the thick columns of his thighs, even between his toes—until the river ran clear again.
When he stepped onto the bank, water streamed off him in sheets. A single, full-body shake—like a dog after a bath—and he was bone-dry in less than a second. He ran his long, elegant fingers through his metallic golden hair, arranging the wet strands into perfect, windswept spikes. The moonlight caught every droplet still clinging to his skin, turning him into a living statue of liquid starlight.
He arranged the five duffels neatly beside a large boulder, stacking them like trophies.
Then he turned back to the crater.
One by one he collected the bodies—tossing them into the depression as casually as someone discarding trash. When the last corpse landed with a wet thud, he stood at the edge, legs spread, hands on hips again.
He gripped his still-heavy cock with one hand, aimed downward, and let the power surge.
Spluuuurge...
A thick, glowing rope of acidic cum erupted from him, hissing as it struck the pile of bodies. The fluid bubbled and smoked on contact, eating through flesh, bone, and clothing in seconds. The crater filled with a foul, chemical stench that quickly faded as the mass dissolved into nothing but a shallow pool of harmless sludge that seeped into the earth. In less than a minute, every trace of the five men was gone.
Lu exhaled slowly, chest rising and falling, the last wisps of steam curling from his cock.
He walked to the riverbank, sat down on a flat rock, and let the night wrap around him. The forest was perfectly silent now—no animals, no wind, no distant traffic. Just the soft murmur of water and the steady, godlike beat of his own heart.
He looked at his hands—clean, flawless, capable of anything—and smiled with pure, inhuman satisfaction.
“I am beyond them,” he whispered to the stars. “Beyond everything.”
The cocaine still sang in his veins. The power still thrummed in every cell. And somewhere far below, the world slept, unaware that a new god had just been born.
Lu leaned back on his elbows, cock resting heavy against one thigh, and let the silence wash over him like worship.
He was in no hurry to go home.
Not yet.
He placed his huge hands on his hips, elbows flared, and looked down at the broken bodies with the casual disdain of a man who had just stepped on a cockroach. No guilt. No nausea. No whisper of conscience. Humanity had become something distant, almost comical. These men were less than insects to him now.
A low, inhuman chuckle rolled out of his chest—deep, smug, vibrating through the trees.
“Pathetic little things,” he murmured, voice like velvet thunder. “You really thought those toys could touch a god.”
He dragged one massive palm across his chest, smearing blood and sweat into a glistening streak. When he flicked his wrist, the sticky mixture clung stubbornly; he had to shake his hand several times, watching the thick strands stretch and finally snap free. The motion made his pecs bounce heavily, and he grinned at the sight.
Satisfied, he turned toward the scattered backpacks. Five heavy duffels lay in the dirt, zippers burst open. He crouched—thighs flexing like steel cables—and tore the first one wide.
Cash. Thick bricks of hundred-dollar bills, rubber-banded and pristine. The next two were the same—more money than most people saw in a lifetime. The last two were packed with fat, vacuum-sealed bricks of cocaine, each one stamped with a crude skull logo.
Lu’s golden eyes lit up.
He plucked one brick from the nearest bag, slit the plastic with a long, perfectly manicured nail, and scooped out a generous line of white powder. He brought the nail to his nose and inhaled sharply.
The rush hit instantly—pure euphoria, crystalline focus, a warm golden wave of invincibility flooding every cell. No crash. No paranoia. No damage. His enhanced body simply absorbed the drug like fuel, turning it into liquid power. He laughed—loud, megalomaniacal, delighted—and plunged his entire face into the open bag, taking a deep, greedy breath.
When he pulled back, his nostrils were dusted white, pupils blown wide with starlight. He felt *omnipotent*.
“Mine,” he whispered to the night. “All of it. Everything.”
A soft gurgle of water reached his ears. Not far away, a mountain river cut through the trees, its surface silver under the moon. Lu stood, grabbed all five duffels in one hand as though they weighed nothing, and leapt.
He hit the water like a golden cannonball. The cold river closed over him, but the chill was merely pleasant. He surfaced, shook his head, and began to scrub. The sticky sweat resisted at first; he scooped handfuls of smooth river stones and ground them against his skin like pumice. The stones crumbled to fine powder against his impervious flesh, polishing every inch until the blood and sweat washed away in cloudy swirls. He worked methodically—under his pecs, between the deep grooves of his eight-pack, down the thick columns of his thighs, even between his toes—until the river ran clear again.
When he stepped onto the bank, water streamed off him in sheets. A single, full-body shake—like a dog after a bath—and he was bone-dry in less than a second. He ran his long, elegant fingers through his metallic golden hair, arranging the wet strands into perfect, windswept spikes. The moonlight caught every droplet still clinging to his skin, turning him into a living statue of liquid starlight.
He arranged the five duffels neatly beside a large boulder, stacking them like trophies.
Then he turned back to the crater.
One by one he collected the bodies—tossing them into the depression as casually as someone discarding trash. When the last corpse landed with a wet thud, he stood at the edge, legs spread, hands on hips again.
He gripped his still-heavy cock with one hand, aimed downward, and let the power surge.
Spluuuurge...
A thick, glowing rope of acidic cum erupted from him, hissing as it struck the pile of bodies. The fluid bubbled and smoked on contact, eating through flesh, bone, and clothing in seconds. The crater filled with a foul, chemical stench that quickly faded as the mass dissolved into nothing but a shallow pool of harmless sludge that seeped into the earth. In less than a minute, every trace of the five men was gone.
Lu exhaled slowly, chest rising and falling, the last wisps of steam curling from his cock.
He walked to the riverbank, sat down on a flat rock, and let the night wrap around him. The forest was perfectly silent now—no animals, no wind, no distant traffic. Just the soft murmur of water and the steady, godlike beat of his own heart.
He looked at his hands—clean, flawless, capable of anything—and smiled with pure, inhuman satisfaction.
“I am beyond them,” he whispered to the stars. “Beyond everything.”
The cocaine still sang in his veins. The power still thrummed in every cell. And somewhere far below, the world slept, unaware that a new god had just been born.
Lu leaned back on his elbows, cock resting heavy against one thigh, and let the silence wash over him like worship.
He was in no hurry to go home.
Not yet.
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·
June 13
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