Chapter 90
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: Like a Tico Smashed by a Porsche
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Like a Kia Tico smashed by a Porsche.
There are three things essential for living peacefully on this Greek soil.
They're taught at the Zeus Temple alongside hygiene and social norms—practically survival rules.
Sacrifices, prayers, and chariots. Those are the big three.
This is a land of myth where gods are alive, their eyes and ears everywhere. Religion and faith aren't abstract concepts here.
No matter how great or powerful a hero you are, if you piss off the gods above or the spirits in the earth and forests, life turns into pure hell.
The guys who got on the bad side of the nymphs in Hero's Forest are prime examples.
One dude littered in the woods and came home from work for a week straight to find his room ceiling packed full of trash.
Another badmouthed the instrument shop owner, and during Marsyas's music lesson, a centipede burst from his flute mid-blow, went down his throat, and left him owing Asclepius big time.
If even the spirit nymphs hold a grudge and you get petty(?) accidents nonstop, imagine if it's a god?
Then it's game over—strength and status be damned. You enter hardcore mode, flattened like a Tico smashed by a Porsche.
And the guys born from accidents close to a Porsche wreck? The ones eating lunch with me right now.
This was after some fun times with Atalanta, at a special discussion for the Golden Generation summoned by Heracles.
Atalanta bailed, not wanting the guys to see her like that.
So it was just the men left, and what started as a "discussion" turned into a festival of bows, swords, and fists flying—but it was a decent time anyway.
With the sun dipping low, we dug into the cool soup and bread Asclepius had brought.
Heracles, the great hero who got drunk in the woods, littered, and turned his room into a dump.
Jason, who bragged about monopolizing the market with his one-trick lyre and called the nymph instrument shop owner a shady businessman—then choked on a centipede.
Orpheus, forever strumming his lyre and grating on everyone's nerves.
Asclepius, the cynical pretty-boy doctor not hiding his exhaustion.
Actaeon, quiet as ever until I mentioned seeing Artemis up close today, then buzzing with excitement.
Lunching with these Greek sprouts who could each spawn half a dozen legendary items in a game.
And suddenly, the topic jumped to the hardships they'd endured.
These fresh-faced kids talking "hardships"? I smirked inwardly, but the trap was none of them had normal origins.
First up, Heracles.
Dad's Zeus. Stole milk from Goddess Hera, nearly died young from her snakes. Curse hit with madness, smashed his music teacher's head off with one blow, then herded sheep before enrolling in Hero's Forest.
His take on it?
"Ah, honestly, that raven-bastard music teacher dragged my mom and dad into insulting me. You think I'd let him live?"
"Frankly, thinking of my brother Linus's temperament, I can't say he didn't bring it on himself. How could I overlook insults to my father and mother?"
-Ding~
Heracles snorting that the guy was dead meat anyway for insulting his mom, curse or no curse. Orpheus sadly plucking his lyre, calling it karma for his brother the music tutor.
Parent-dissing really is the ultimate taboo, transcending East and West.
Ah, honestly, that was way past parent-dissing territory.
"Heard you bashed the teacher's head into six pieces with the lyre you were holding. That true?"
"Pfft, how's a human head split into six? It just went splat…!"
"You wanna talk corpses while we're eating pumpkin soup, you wild boar brats?"
Jason prying for gory murder details like it was some interview show, Heracles gesturing wildly to demonstrate—until Asclepius shot them a murderous glare, shutting them both up.
Lunch today was a potage-like soup of ripe pumpkin, grains, and chilled milk. Perfect.
"Can't control your rage, hurt people, and call it a brag... Tsk."
"Uh... Um... Sorry..."
Unlike his usual harsh talk, Asclepius had a solid doctor's philosophy and pride.
Always preaching hygiene, prevention, and safety—including disasters from the gods.
His catchphrases hid some grim backstory.
"My mother was a princess of Thessaly. She got with that damn sun god Apollo. And died by that bastard sun god's hand."
Asclepius spilled it plainly now, no need to hide.
And what a story.
Apollo dated his mom Coronis, set a raven as messenger.
She chats innocently with her hunter cousins back from the hunt—raven thinks she's cheating, tells Apollo, who shoots her dead on faith alone.
Too late, Apollo realizes, yanks baby Asclepius from her nearly-cremated belly and hands him to Chiron. He's been in Hero's Forest ever since.
"Got it? Dead is dead. No excuses for misunderstandings or mistakes. That's why you stay cautious always. Got it?"
"Yeah, got it."
"Tch, shouldn't have brought it up..."
Heracles and Jason, spooked by the venom dripping—not sadness—from Asclepius's eyes, quietly buried their faces in their soup bowls.
"Especially you, King Wild Boar!"
"Y-Yes?"
"Control that insane strength. Hear you've gone berserk drunk again? I'll kill you myself. Got it?"
The med student's grudge against his top high-risk patient, churning out emergencies daily, ran deeper and darker than any curse.
'But seeing that boar rampage drunk... can't say he's wrong.'
Greek culture even glorified drunken brawls as heroic spirit.
Asclepius was a doctor centuries ahead of his time.
No wonder he becomes the god of medicine later.
"I learned the lyre from my father and the warrior muses from childhood. Truly meaningful times."
"M-Me? Grandpa just taught me archery. Family had some tragedies, so they sent me to Hero's Forest. Th-That's it... heh heh."
Orpheus and Actaeon, with relatively quiet childhoods (future aside), passed.
But Jason, when his turn came, just stared silently into his soup bowl.
"Hey! Ship-boy! Spacing out? Fly in your soup? Reading Hermes's oracle?"
"Huh? M-Me? Uh... I..."
Jason jolted at Heracles's booming voice, mouth opening— but the silver tongue that always flowed stilled after a few flops and shut.
"N-Nothing much for me. Anyway, around now, I'm curious about Dianes's story?"
His face flipped instantly to a sly grin—textbook politician.
But I caught the flicker of anger twisting it.
'Can't recall details, but his family stuff's a mess too, right?'
No class dragging some poor kid's buried trauma out mid-chill sweat-and-meal session.
I gladly took his dodge.
"I took an arrow from Artemis."
Right to the face.
The others shot Jason puzzled looks—then all gawked at me, eyes wide.
Even Jason, hiding old grudges under laughs, couldn't close his mouth, like he misheard.
"Training in the midnight woods, bam—arrow straight at my head."
"First one, barely blocked with my wooden sword. Second, deflected it barehanded. Before the third, Chiron showed up."
Thinking back, still regretful—her temper aside, that face was stunningly beautiful.
More tempting than her looks: the intense divine aura clinging to me, stirring fresh longing.
Marsyas's flute power, laced with Pan's authority—hers was clearer, stronger.
Quietly bound in my dantian corner still.
I sensed its release nearing, preparing.
And when it burst free? How would the myths I knew twist?
A dizzy anticipation for a massive event made me grin faintly.
The guys stared like I was some undead freak.
"Saw Artemis in person?"
"A guy?"
"And counterattacked?"
"Pretty?"
"Tch, this wild boar's hopeless..."
Four of them—Heracles aside—gaped like cats peeking cosmic truth, souls half-gone.
"Mm... yeah, face was definitely pretty."
"You crazy raven bastard!!"