Supreme Harem God System

“The Chamber does not ask for your opinion. It does not need your defense.

It will look into your memories and compare it with the report. Any lies, any unmentioned information, or any incomplete detail will be caught.

And if it does—

The Chamber will tear your souls apart, pulling you out of the Universal Reincarnation Cycle.”

Balance declared in a cold, emotionless tone, as if the lives of these bugs did not matter to him one bit.

What’s worse?

Even though they knew that the so-called Supremes didn’t give a damn about their lives, the Mercenary Guild Leaders were helpless. None of them had the gall to step forward and refuse to cooperate with them.

They… they had no choice but to step forward.

As if knowing the people were ready, the Eternity-born waved his hand, and in an instant, thousands of similar chambers appeared all over the world. Not just that—fences that placed mercenaries into a thousand different groups appeared on the ground as well.

In an instant, all the beings gathered here were divided into five thousand different groups, and the fencing made sure no members of different groups shared one chamber.

All the people needed to do was to follow the fences that would guide them to their chambers.

Yes, all this happened with a flick of a finger. It was the Power of Creation beyond what anyone could even make sense of—not to mention the calculation required to create perfect fencing to organize the disorganized group of tens of thousands of beings.

Without saying a single word, the Eternity-born had passed the instructions, and the people beneath him knew exactly what to do without ever daring to complain.

The unfortunate Mercenary Guild Leaders standing in front of the chambers gulped. They didn’t have to be told to know that they had to be the first ones to step forward.

To walk into the chambers that were very much capable of killing them—no, not ’killing them’—these chambers could ’tear their souls apart’.

And yet…

They still had no choice but to follow.

After the first one stepped forward, the rest followed. None of them wanted to be left behind and be targeted.

And just like that, it began.

One after the other, the Mercenary Guild Leaders walked in, and within a few seconds, they came out, surprising the other leaders.

Weren’t they supposed to read their reports? How did they come out so quickly? Was their report incomplete?

No, that wasn’t possible—they wouldn’t have come out if that was the case.

Soon, however, they realized it. The time flow in these chambers was different, so even when the report reading went on for hours, outside, only a few seconds would pass.

Once again, the leaders couldn’t help but feel how efficient those ultimate beings hovering above them were.

As more and more time passed, and more Mercenary Guild Leaders gave their reports and returned, a sense of ease spread over the rest of them, and the process became even smoother.

But then suddenly,

One of the five thousand chambers suddenly turned from blue to red, instantly attracting everyone’s attention.

It felt… ominous.

This was especially true for the group that was supposed to enter the chamber.

Fwoosh

Then suddenly, the chamber made a sound, and a big red screen hovered in the air in a way that every being, no matter what corner of the world he was in, could see it clearly.

In that screen, it showed what was happening inside the chamber.

The air felt unnaturally still.

Guildmaster Vharkos stood at the center of the radiant floor.

He was a massive man—clad in reinforced blackstone armor, a scarred warlord who had once conquered three worlds in a single night because of an Elite Mission given to his guild. His axe had tasted more blood than most armies.

But here…

His voice trembled slightly.

“…and that concludes my report. All movements, exchanges, and contracts have been recorded… to the best of my knowledge.”

The floating symbols above him shined. The moment he spoke the final word, the silver runes pulsing through the floor disappeared, and the door before him buzzed gently—waiting to open.

Vharkos took a step forward, ready to leave.

Naturally, he heaved a big sigh of relief.

Finally—finally, he could leave and end this nightmare for good.

Or at least… that was what he thought.

But the door did not open.

Instead, the chamber pulsed.

Once.

Then again.

Suddenly, the floor beneath him lit up with a crimson glow. The rings above him spun wildly, shifting into a new, ominous shape.

“W-What…?”

Vharkos turned, stuttering, as he didn’t understand what was happening. His mind was already engulfed in fear—the entire chamber turning crimson did not help either.

Then, an ancient, emotionless voice echoed.

[The record has been reviewed.]

[Memory fragments conflict with the statement.]

[No Concealment detected.]

[Record Omission detected.]

Vharkos’s eyes widened in horror.

“Wait—I didn’t lie! I just didn’t have the details—I couldn’t find the full contracts because they were erased thirty-three thousand years ago!”

He tried to explain himself. His desperation was clear.

If this chamber indeed had the power to read his mind and know if he was stating the truth or not, he believed that it would know that he wasn’t lying.

He truly did everything he could to recover the erased contract, but it simply wasn’t possible—every single witness of that incident was dead, no records could be found.

But—

[Truth withheld is still truth unspoken.]

The emotionless voice did not care.

[You spoke knowing it was incomplete.]

[Judgment Initiated.]

And then, it began.

“AAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Vharkos howled as he fell to his knees as pain he had never experienced once in his long life started tearing through his body.

It didn’t hit his body or his skin—

It targeted his very soul.

The floor beneath him glowed brighter. Chains clawed through his armor, piercing through it like it was nothing—and still, his physical body remained intact. After all, it was never the target.

It was just the container.

The chains quickly made their way to the real target:

The soul.

Just as Balance said, it was now time to ’tear it apart’.

“AAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

The Guildmaster screamed in agony again.

There was no blood, but it was still unbearable.

It was… worse than death.

His soul spasmed, convulsed, shattered into a dozen burning shards, then reformed—only to shatter again.

Again.

And again.

And again.

“P-PLEASE! I DIDN’T LIE! I—I SWORE I—!!”

He tried to beg for mercy—

But—

He wasn’t that fortunate.

This had only just begun.

Or at least, that was the original intention, but then—

The screen showing everything happening inside the chamber froze, surprising everyone, even the Supreme Borns standing above.

Well, everyone but one—

“That is enough.”

The Supreme Being of Light declared with an emotionless look on his face.

He then turned towards Balance and—

“We have passed our message. There is no need to continue his suffering any longer.”

He spoke, and with a wave of his hand, Vharkos’s damaged soul, that had frozen, suddenly began dispersing, vanishing from existence and returning to the universe as a form of energy.

It was the only form of mercy Light could have offered in this situation—a mercy that put the hearts of Mercenary Guild Leaders at ease.

’At least there was one compassionate being amongst them.’

That was their thought.

Balance and Eternity did not particularly care about Light’s actions either.

“Hypocrite.”

The Supreme Being of Darkness, however, snorted in disdain—and while no one showed it on their faces, a few Guild Leaders agreed with him.

Why act after his soul was tormented again and again? Couldn’t he have done this sooner?

They could see it was all an act. They could see that Light wasn’t any better than the others—not that it mattered.

Even if they could see, acting blind was their only option.

“Continue.”

Light simply ignored the comment Darkness made. He was not here to fight. Darkness, having the same opinion, did not bother as well.

After all, none of them wanted to waste more breath than they already had. Every moment wasted in this lowly place made them feel impure.

Honestly, Darkness was bored.

To think they would send a Supreme Born to deal with mere mercenaries—no matter how he thought about it, this felt too much.

Even the lowly subordinates could have done this, and the fact that everything was flowing so smoothly annoyed him even further.

Yes, a flag was raised.

This was the moment Darkness would look back in the future and curse himself for wishing what he did.

“Hm?”

Suddenly, Eternity frowned.

Every other Supreme Born turned towards him, and he commented—

“Fifty-six Mercenary Worlds didn’t come.”

Eternity explained.

The Supreme Borns weren’t surprised. After all, even they knew the time given wasn’t enough, but since they still needed the reports from every world, they knew they needed to send someone to get it.

But—

“The subordinates I sent there saw these worlds no longer exist.”

“That shouldn’t be possible. I checked the total number of Mercenary Worlds myself—”

“They were destroyed a few hours ago.”

Eternity spoke with a grim look on his face.

The other Supreme Borns frowned, and just then—

BOOOOOOOM