The fluorescent lights of The After-Rift Lounge flickered erratically as the low-frequency hum of Sector 7’s underground air purifiers vibrated through the floorboards.
In the center of the basement, the silence was total.
Zach Drake stood rooted to the spot, his neon-green sneakers resting inches away from the shattered glass and puddles of ice water on the concrete floor. His spiky foliage-green hair twitched under his black hoodie, his glowing crimson eyes darting frantically between Loungs’ massive, grinning face and Mrs. Loungs’ icy, calculating glare.
ZACH: (His voice cracking into an octave he hadn't used since his voice changed) "Marry me off?! To who?! I’m twenty years old! I haven't even finished paying off my hover-bike insurance!"
MRS. LOUNGS: (Tapping her digital tablet with a manicured fingernail, her tone completely devoid of emotion) "Ashley. My daughter. The legal paperwork for the marriage contract is eighty percent complete. As S-Rank #4, your verified annual liquid income is five-hundred and eighty thousand Platarian credits. You have no dependents, no pending judicial liens, and your credit rating is in the 99th percentile across all four sectors of Plata-Central."
LOUNGS: (Slapping his massive hand down onto the mahogany bar counter with a loud THUD that caused every martini glass to jump) "It's a match made in heaven, kid! Ashley gets a young, handsome S-Rank husband, and my wife gets a son-in-law whose bank account isn't currently sitting in a deep ocean trench like your brother's!"
CASSIAN: (Polishing a glass with a white linen napkin, his long white hair swaying smoothly as he smirks) "A sound financial strategy, Loungs. Truly, your wife’s economic intellect is worthy of respect. As an elder brother, I fully endorse this union. Zach has been far too comfortable flaunting his zero-commitment lifestyle."
ZACH: (Snapping his head toward Cassian, his crimson eyes blazing) "You shut up! You're the one who got forty-two women pregnant across Plataria! Why should I suffer for your biological glitches?!"
CASSIAN: (Placing a hand over his heart in dramatic, wounded dignity) "I am a victim of abyssal atmospheric trauma! My mind was compromised! Yours, however, is clear. You are simply a bachelor clinging to his childish sneakers while a noble family offers you stability."
ASHLEY: (Crossed her arms, her lower lip pouting as she glared at Zach) "I don't even want Zach! He wears neon green and smells like sulfur! I wanted Cassian! He wears double-breasted burgundy suits and quotes ancient poetry!"
MRS. LOUNGS: (Without looking up from her tablet) "Quiet, Ashley. Cassian is negative six thousand dollars in liquid debt and earns twelve dollars an hour wiping down tequila spills. You are marrying the one with liquid capital."
ZACH: (Taking three quick steps backward toward the lounge entrance, his hands raised in absolute panic) "No! Absolutely not! I am a free agent! I am an independent strike-hero! You can't force me into a contract!"
MRS. LOUNGS: (Raising an eyebrow) "Section 14-B of the Plata-Central Hero Emergency Act allows high-tier hero families to consolidate assets through marital contracts to prevent public financial insolvency. If you refuse, I will personally file an audit request regarding your 'tactical footwear' tax deductions with Lady Death’s office tomorrow morning."
Zach went deathly pale. His mind raced. Lady Death auditing his sneaker collection meant a instant twenty-thousand-dollar fine, asset freezes, and potential garnishments that would ruin his pristine bank account.
ZACH: (Whispering in pure, unadulterated terror) "She's evil... This entire family is evil..."
The heavy wooden doors of The After-Rift Lounge clicked open.
Stepping down the concrete stairs into the basement was a man whose presence immediately shifted the atmosphere of the room. At twenty-five years old and standing at an imposing 188 centimeters, Trevor Grant cut a commanding figure. He wore a sharp, tailored black turtleneck beneath a dark charcoal coat, his dark hair neatly styled and his dark eyes holding the calm, untouchable composure of a man who commanded a multi-billion-dollar media empire.
Walking beside him was his wife, Dr. Yelena Hover, her pristine lab coat draped neatly over her arm, her brilliant eyes sweeping across the basement bar with cool efficiency.
TREVOR: (His deep, velvet-smooth voice carrying effortlessly across the room) "I see the local drama in Sector 7 is as loud as usual."
CASSIAN: (His stiff, professional bartender mask instantly melting into a genuine smile) "Ah, Trevor! Yelena! Welcome to the abyss. You arrive just in time to witness the execution of my younger brother's bachelorhood."
ZACH: (Lunging toward Trevor like a drowning man grabbing a life raft) "Trevor! Help me! You wrote the book! You literally wrote 'How Girls Can Be Draining, Don't Be a Simp'! Tell them! Tell them forcing a man into a marriage contract destroys his financial sovereignty!"
Trevor stopped, taking a slow look at Loungs, Mrs. Loungs, and the tearful Ashley, before sliding his dark gaze back to Zach.
TREVOR: (Calmly adjusting his coat cuffs) "Section 14-B of the Hero Emergency Act is indeed a formidable legal trap, Zach. Mrs. Loungs has constructed a classic corporate maneuver: leverage your fear of tax audits against your desire for freedom."
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ZACH: "I know! So how do I break it?!"
TREVOR: (Reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out an obsidian fountain pen, tapping it lightly against his palm) "You don't fight a contract with anger, Zach. You fight it with a stronger narrative. To neutralize a forced marital clause under Platarian hero law, you must invoke a higher status exemption."
MRS. LOUNGS: (Narrowing her eyes at Trevor) "Mr. Grant. I advise you not to interfere in family asset management. Your publishing house operates under our sector's security permits."
DR. YELENA HOVER: (Stepping forward with a cool, sharp smile) "And my advanced bio-containment laboratories supply seventy percent of your sector's anti-toxin serums, Mrs. Loungs. Let us keep our professional courtesies intact while my husband speaks."
Mrs. Loungs' jaw tightened slightly, but she remained silent.
TREVOR: (Uncapping his pen, a faint line of crimson mana flowing from the nib as he looked at Zach) "There is one clause in the Hero Code that supersedes family consolidation contracts: the Vow of Absolute Vocation, commonly known as the Vow of Celibacy."
CASSIAN: (Nearly dropping his martini glass, his eyes widening in pure delight) "A... a vow of celibacy? For Zach?!"
ZACH: (Gasping in horror) "A VOW OF WHAT?!"
TREVOR: "Hear me out. If an S-Rank hero officially declares a public, legally binding Vow of Celibacy dedicated entirely to uninterrupted, zero-distraction hero service, all pending marriage contracts are legally frozen for a minimum of five years. It protects your bank account, prevents forced marital asset transfers, and completely shuts down external family claims."
ASHLEY: (Screaming in frustration) "WHAT?! HE CAN'T DO THAT! HE'S A PLAYBOY!"
LOUNGS: (Scratching his head in confusion) "Wait... can he actually do that, honey? Can a guy just say he's not doing romantic stuff anymore to dodge a contract?"
MRS. LOUNGS: (Her eyes cold as ice) "Technically, yes. But it requires an immediate public media statement broadcast across the global hero networks within one hour, signed by an accredited media mogul. If he breaks the vow even once during those five years, he forfeits fifty percent of his total wealth to the state."
Trevor looked down at Zach, his dark eyes holding a challenge.
TREVOR: "Fifty percent of your wealth if you break it, Zach. Five-hundred and eighty thousand credits protected if you keep it. Five years of zero girlfriends, zero late-night lounges, and zero romantic entanglements. Do you have the mental fortitude to sign?"
Zach stood frozen, his heart hammering against his ribs. Five years of celibacy meant giving up his playboy status in the nightlife districts of Plata-Central. It meant no more VIP lounges, no more flirting with A-Rank heroines, and living like a monk.
But looking at Ashley’s angry face and Mrs. Loungs holding the contract pen, Zach realized the alternative was far worse: a lifetime of being controlled by a mother-in-law who checked his sneaker receipts.
ZACH: (Gritting his teeth, his crimson eyes flaring with desperate determination) "Draft the statement, Trevor. I'm signing it."
CASSIAN: (Doubled over behind the bar counter, clutching his stomach as silent, hysterical laughter shook his burgundy vest) "Oh, the stars have truly blessed this night! My playboy brother... a monk! A holy, sneaker-wearing hermit!"
TREVOR: (Flicking his wrist as his Magic Paintbrush manifested a glowing, holographic parchment in the air) "Quiet, Cassian. Let the artist work."
With rapid, breathtaking precision, Trevor’s pen danced across the air. Glowing crimson glyphs of legal text and media formatting materialized instantly, forming an official press release bound directly to the Plataria Global News Network.
OFFICIAL ANNOUNCEMENT: S-RANK HERO #4 (ZACH DRAKE)
Effective immediately, S-Rank Hero Zach Drake formally takes the Vow of Absolute Vocation. To dedicate 100% of his existence to the defense of Plataria against Class-4 Wreckage threats, Hero Zach Drake hereby enters a binding 5-year Vow of Celibacy. All pending marital, romantic, and consolidation contracts are null and void.
TREVOR: "Sign here, Zach."
Zach stepped forward, pressing his glowing thumb onto the bottom of the holographic scroll.
FLASH!
A blinding wave of crimson mana flared throughout the lounge, transmitting the signed document directly into the central Hero Association database. Across Plata-Central, millions of smartphone screens buzzed simultaneously with the breaking news notification.
MRS. LOUNGS: (Her tablet flashing red as the contract draft dissolved into error codes) "Tsk. A calculated play, Mr. Grant."
LOUNGS: (Bursting into a loud, booming laugh that rattled the ceiling light fixtures) "Bwahaha! Well played, kid! Five years without a date! You really prefer fighting monsters over marrying my daughter! I respect the dedication!"
ASHLEY: (Stamping her foot on the floor in a full-blown tantrum) "THIS IS UNFAIR! I HATE ALL OF YOU!"
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the lounge, with Mrs. Loungs following closely behind her, her cold expression promises of future legal battles. Loungs gave Zach a hearty, bone-crushing pat on the shoulder that nearly drove the younger brother into the floorboards before trotting after his family.
LOUNGS: "See you at the next raid, monk!"
As the heavy oak doors clicked shut, the tension in the lounge finally dissipated.
Zach collapsed onto a bar stool, his head thumping heavily against the dark mahogany wood, his arms dangling limply at his sides.
ZACH: (Muffled against the wood) "I'm ruined... My social life is completely over..."
CASSIAN: (Sliding a cold glass of tap water toward Zach with a magnificent, villainous grin) "Nonsense, little brother! Look on the bright side! You kept your neon sneakers, your bank account remains intact, and now you can join me in total, absolute domestic misery!"
DR. YELENA HOVER: (Taking a seat beside Trevor, signaling Cassian for two red wines) "Speaking of domestic misery, Trevor... did you inform Cassian about the package that arrived at our Solaria suite before we flew down to Plata-Central?"
Trevor took a slow sip of the red wine Cassian handed him, his dark eyes glinting with quiet intrigue.
TREVOR: "Not yet."
CASSIAN: (Pausing mid-wipe with his cloth) "A package? For me?"
TREVOR: "A sealed, black-silk envelope bearing the wax seal of the Oakhaven Syndicate. Sent directly from Aethelgard by Lady Death herself."
Cassian’s heart did a sudden, violent somersault inside his chest.
CASSIAN: "Lady Death... sent a package to your suite? What did it contain?"
TREVOR: "An invitation. The annual Global Hero Gala is being hosted next month in the capital city of Eisenstadt. And according to the attached docket, the Hero Board has mandated that all SS-Rank heroes attend accompanied by their verified legal dependents or debt managers."
Cassian went deathly pale.
CASSIAN: "She wants me... to walk into an international gala... in front of foreign dignitaries, news networks, and SSS-Rank legends... accompanied by forty-two child support auditors?!"
ZACH: (Lifting his head off the bar counter, a sudden, wicked grin spreading across his face as the tables turned) "Bwahaha! Oh, how the turns have tabled! Look at 'Gigant'! The aristocratic prince is going to be paraded like a circus clown!"
TREVOR: (Setting his glass down with a soft click) "Not if we draft a second strategy, Cassian. But that... will cost you a very expensive bottle of vintage Platarian reserve."
CASSIAN: (Grasping Trevor’s hand with frantic, trembling nobility) "Name your price, Trevor! Name your price!"