Max hadn't even made it a full block away from Valentino's club when the street exploded.
The blast ripped down the avenue with enough force to rattle every window in sight. Neon signs flickered. A parked car flipped onto its side. A plume of fire climbed into the air like a middle finger aimed at the skyline.
Max stopped mid-step.
"…Oh," he sighed. "Right. That part of town."
Another explosion echoed, closer this time. He could feel the vibration through his boots.
"Cherry Bomb," he muttered. "Of course."
He was still in his shadowed undercover form—trench coat, face obscured, presence dulled so nobody would remember him in five minutes. Good. The last thing he needed was drawing attention while he was already messing with contracts and timelines.
A metallic clink cut through the smoke.
Max turned just in time to see a bomb bounce once in front of his face.
He caught it on instinct.
It detonated instantly.
The blast was compact but vicious. Hellfire erupted outward in a tight sphere, shearing his arm off at the elbow. Green flames clung to the wound, eating at the edge of his regeneration like acid. The force slammed him into a brick wall hard enough to spiderweb the masonry.
He slid down slowly, staring at the empty sleeve.
"…Huh," he said calmly. "Hellfire suppresses healing. That's new."
He looked up.
Cherry Bomb stood on the rooftop above him, silhouetted by firelight.
Canon-perfect chaos.
Wild white-blonde hair spiked out in every direction. Her single eye glowed bright pink, sharp and amused. Black crop top. Red suspenders hanging loose. Shorts. Boots planted like she owned the building. Bomb already spinning between her fingers like a coin.
She grinned wide.
"'Sup, fucka?" she called. "Didn't think anyone'd be dumb enough to stroll through my fireworks show."
Max watched her for a second.
Yeah.
He understood the fanbase.
"Unique aesthetic," he muttered to himself.
Cherry flicked another bomb down at him.
This time he reacted properly.
Ice erupted around the explosive midair, freezing it solid before detonation. It hit the pavement with a dull thud, trapped in a crystal shell.
Max grabbed the burning edge of his arm and tore off the hellfire-corrupted flesh in one brutal motion. The green flames died with it. Regeneration restarted, bone and muscle rebuilding slowly.
Cherry whistled.
"Regeneration and ice?" she laughed. "That's hot."
She didn't stop attacking. Bombs came faster now—different sizes, different fuses. Some exploded on impact. Some split midair into smaller charges. The alley turned into a demolition zone in seconds.
Max danced between blasts, barriers flaring, coat whipping in the shockwaves.
"That bomb generation ability is impressive," he called up. "Let me try."
He mimicked the structure—compressed mana, volatile shell, destabilized core. Three red-black bombs formed in his palm. He threw them upward.
Cherry barely dodged as one detonated behind her, blowing a chunk out of the rooftop.
"The fuck?!" she barked. "Oi! That's my gimmick!"
She retaliated immediately. Sticky fire bombs. Fragmentation bursts. A concussive charge that knocked Max flat on his back.
He rolled to a knee, smoke rising from his coat.
"…Still refining," he admitted.
Something flickered in his peripheral vision.
A phantom ring.
Cherry Bomb — Possible.
Max ignored it. That was a problem for later timelines.
He raised a hand.
"Cherry," he said evenly. "I'm not here to hurt Angel."
She froze mid-throw.
Her eye narrowed.
"…Say that again."
"I was at his show," Max said. "Not for Valentino. Tried to help. Couldn't break the contract."
The tension shifted.
Cherry dropped from the rooftop in a clean vault, landing a few feet away. She still held a bomb, but her posture wasn't attack-ready anymore. It was defensive curiosity.
"That moth prick," she muttered. "Yeah. Figures."
She circled Max slowly, eye scanning him.
"You don't look like one of his goons. And you're weird as hell. New sinner?"
"Fresh," Max replied. "Couple hours. Not a fan of trafficking."
Cherry snorted.
"Then you picked a shit neighborhood to walk into."
She tossed the bomb in her hand straight up. It exploded harmlessly overhead, sparks raining down like confetti.
"You got Overlord vibes," she added. "Wouldn't peg you as fresh meat."
"I get that a lot."
She stared a moment longer, then shrugged.
"Anyone who treats Angel like a mate's cool with me," she said. "I was gonna offer you a drink, but…"
Another explosion sounded three streets over.
Her grin snapped back into place.
"…I got a schedule to keep."
Max inclined his head.
"Would be rude to interrupt."
Cherry laughed and sprinted off across the rooftops, already throwing bombs as she went. The skyline lit up in her wake.
Max watched until the smoke swallowed her silhouette.
"Angel helped," he murmured. "Cherry neutral. Progress."
He adjusted his coat and stepped back into the neon chaos of Pride, disappearing into the crowd like he'd never been there. Thinking that he would like to add Cherri.
[AN: Its up for a vote. Want Cherri added then suggest something to replace her romantic involvement with Sir Pentious. In my personal opinion any female Overlord would do for him but If you have thoughts let me know. I might take a small break as i have been posting a lot of chapters recently. just depends if I'm bored or not to write]