"Blow up the Juxia, then kill that b-tch Keisha?"
"No way! Even I think that orphan-level plan of yours is insane—way too extreme!"
"You think I won't die from that?"
"Get grazed by one of Keisha's silver wings, and you'll never heal. That b-tch's favorite hobby is chopping me into pieces and bottling what's left!"
The woman's temper was explosive.
From the moment she stormed into the tavern, cursing all the way to the counter, she hadn't stopped swearing once.
The entire bar had gone dead quiet, everyone frozen and staring at this foul-mouthed newcomer.
Her heavy smoky makeup made it impossible to tell what she originally looked like—
but one thing was obvious: her figure was absolutely top-tier.
A black leather jacket with a plunging neckline; plain leather pants that hugged every curve just right.
To borrow a certain overall-wearing singer's lyrics—
"One more look and I'll explode; come a little closer, I'm already melting…"
This was the fifth customer who carried the "mature lady" trait.
From Super God Academy — the Demon Queen, Morgana!
Known across the Super God Universe as its greatest "evil."
Once, she had been an angel, Angel Liang Bing, the younger sister of the divine Keisha herself—
the former Apocalypse King of the three-king era.
System Notification
[Ding! Five guests with the "mature lady" trait have now visited the tavern. Further visitors will trigger re-matching.]
Ronn froze.
So that was it? His "golden age of happiness" was officially over?
That meant from now on, the system would re-evaluate each new guest's traits and reset the match.
A cold chill ran down his spine.
Please, he prayed silently, don't give me some weird trait next time…
About ten minutes later, Morgana finally stopped swearing and began scanning the tavern.
Her eyes flicked rapidly from person to person, silently reading data.
Human powerhouse… dragon… otherworlders… wolf…
Then her gaze landed on the Holy Master and his son Little Demon Dragon—
and her eyes lit up.
What an immense dark energy signature!
Even her Demon Core Engine couldn't parse it fast enough.
Morgana smirked, patting the Holy Master on the shoulder.
"Hey, kid. Interested in serving under the Queen of Demons?
I can give you anything you desire."
The father-and-son demons froze mid-drink, their red eyes welling up faintly.
Finally—
finally, someone offering them freedom from Hell!
That damned place—
even dogs wouldn't want to stay there!
Ronn chuckled.
"Morgana's strong, but she can't travel to your world," he reminded them.
The demons' hopes popped like soap bubbles.
"Oh… right."
Morgana shrugged helplessly.
"I can cross galaxies, sure—but not dimensions. Different realities are off-limits."
"Then quit bragging," the Holy Master grumbled, shifting away from her.
Don't come near me, woman.
Morgana didn't mind.
Her creed was decay and freedom — follow her or not, it was up to you.
Then she turned to Ronn, frowning slightly.
"How do you know my real name?"
Ronn smiled.
"You were once the Apocalypse King of the angelic civilization. Who hasn't heard of you?"
"Ugh, don't mention those b-tches." Morgana snorted. "I'm their mother now."
She began scanning Ronn and the tavern's data—
and froze.
Her smoky eyes widened slightly.
If parsing the demons was slow, then parsing Ronn and this tavern was impossible.
A civilization beyond even super-god-level comprehension? It shouldn't exist.
When the scan finally ended, she glanced over the results—
and cursed again.
"Damn it! In this world 'falling' is a bad thing?!"
"This is a bar, not a brawl," Ronn said calmly.
"Drink, don't swear."
The room had been lively before she came in.
Now, the tension was suffocating.
Not just Ronn — even the regulars felt awkward under her presence.
"You're the boss; your rules," Morgana said with a sly smile.
"But with this demon look, it's hard not to cuss at those b-tches."
A soft shimmer flashed over her body.
In an instant, the heavy makeup vanished.
Her black leather outfit melted away, replaced by a sand-colored trench coat over a high-slit cheongsam.
Her entire presence changed—
no longer the Queen of Hell, but an irresistibly seductive woman.
Her fox-like eyes glowed with allure,
her brows sharp, nose refined,
every feature perfectly sculpted into the definition of a femme fatale.
Looking at her reflection in the window, Morgana felt a strange pang of nostalgia.
How long had it been since she'd used this face?
For a heartbeat, memories of the old war alongside Keisha flashed through her mind.
Damn that b-tch Keisha…!
Just then, Lucoa wandered over from the back, carrying a bottle of wine.
"Your drink, miss. Please enjoy."
Morgana glanced up, momentarily dazed.
"Ah… thanks."
Another unreadable being.
In her own universe, gods were born from technology—
but Lucoa felt like the kind of god that came from legend itself.
For the first time in ages, Morgana was genuinely intrigued.
"Try it," Ronn said lightly.
"It's called Bamboo Leaf Green. Good balance—mild but flavorful."
She poured a glass and took a sip.
The blend of alcohol and herbs filled her mouth with rich fragrance—
sweet, faintly bitter, smooth, with a clean aftertaste that lingered pleasantly.
"Not bad. I might come back for more." Morgana nodded in satisfaction.
"I'm glad you like it," Ronn replied. Then he changed the subject.
"Just now, you mentioned invading Blue Star?"
That caught everyone's attention.
If true, Keisha wasn't far from her final end.
Morgana didn't hide it.
"It's in the works. Timing still undecided."
"That b-tch follows me everywhere I go—so I might as well use it to end her once and for all!"
She downed her drink in one smooth motion, stretching luxuriously afterward—
a movement that made Ronn nearly lose focus amid the shifting curves in front of him.
"Staring?"
Morgana leaned forward across the bar, her voice a lazy purr.
"Want to leave a mark inside a demon's body?"
"Could be your greatest achievement yet."
Ronn: "...???"
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