Although the abilities granted by the magic ring aren't particularly powerful—some might even dismiss them as mere parlor tricks—even such "tricks" can be wielded with ingenuity.
After all, as the saying goes: "There's no such thing as a useless ability—only useless users."
An embroidery needle is just a tool for stitching in the hands of an ordinary person, but in Loren's grip, it becomes a lethal weapon.
Loren was doing something similar now—using telekinesis to lift distant targets.
Thinking outside the box, he wondered: Could he target a specific internal organ instead of the whole body?
If possible, this ability could silently incapacitate someone from within—crushing their brain, heart, or other vital organs without leaving a mark. Any such damage would instantly neutralize a foe's combat capability.
Intrigued, he tried it. To his surprise, it worked—partially.
Unfortunately, the magic ring's power was limited. The telekinetic force weakened significantly after passing through the body's outer layers, rendering it far too feeble to crush bones or rupture organs. Crushing a brain or a heart? Pure fantasy.
Forced to settle for second-best, he shifted focus to exceptionally sensitive areas.
The urge to defecate is governed by the rectum; the need to urinate, by the bladder. Even slight pressure on these organs could trigger overwhelming, humiliating urgency.
After all—gods included—no one fights well with explosive diarrhea.
It was undeniably underhanded… but effective.
And the applications could be expanded further—especially against female opponents…
In short? Absolutely brilliant.
"Shit god?! Shit, you're a devil!"
Loki broke out in goosebumps. At that moment, he wouldn't believe a single fart he'd ever passed.
He'd wandered the Nine Realms for centuries, faced countless foes, and encountered every manner of arcane power—but never had he met someone as despicably inventive as Loren.
Loren's ability wasn't lethal, yet it was far more suffocating than any killing blow.
Imagine: mid-battle, and suddenly—the call of nature strikes with divine urgency.
Who could maintain dignity—or combat focus—then?
Does this man have no shame?!
Is life in the Nine Realms even worth it anymore?!
This… this must never happen to him.
Determined, Loki raised his hands to cast a counterspell. He was, after all, a master sorcerer—second only to the likes of the Ancient One. Surely a cheap magic ring was no match for his craft.
In an instant, he unraveled Loren's trick.
But just as arrogance bloomed in his chest…
Standing beside Loren, 2B let slip a chilling, malicious smile.
"My boss said no magic in his presence. And you… don't seem to be listening."
She stepped forward.
An overwhelming aura surged from her—cold, mechanical, and utterly dominant. Loki's blood ran cold.
Memories of being tossed around like a salted fish by this silver-haired warrior flooded back. That feeling—helpless, humiliated, on the verge of death—was burned into his soul.
His survival instinct kicked in. Magic? Abandoned.
He flailed his hands desperately.
"W-wait! Don't come closer! I've run out of magic, I swear!"
2B cracked her knuckles. The sound echoed like shattering bone.
"Hmph. Behave. Or I won't mind beating you again."
"!!!" —Loki, internally screaming.
"Damn it! What do you even want? I've got no quarrel with you—why are you arresting me?!"
He looked around—at 2B, at Mary Rose, at the other women surrounding him—and felt tears welling up.
His mission had been simple: check on Thor.
He hadn't even seen Thor yet—and already he was a prisoner.
If I'd known this would happen, I'd have stayed in Asgard!
This was unbearable!
Loren stood, arms crossed, eyes glinting with mischief.
"Given the situation, what choice do I have? Obviously—I'm kidnapping you. For ransom."
In the past, he'd never have dared. After all, Loki was the adopted son of Odin, All-Father of Asgard. Harm him, and Odin might descend in fury.
But times had changed.
Odin was already deep in the Odinsleep—which was precisely why Loki had come to Earth now.
And thanks to his mysterious system, Loren knew powerful beings like Odin couldn't perceive what happened to him directly.
As long as he didn't kill Loki, he'd be fine.
And now that he'd made contact with the Ancient One, he even had a backup plan if Odin did intervene.
So… why not seize this golden opportunity?
"Kidnapping?! Me?!" Loki gaped, utterly bewildered.
The word felt alien—like a mortal insult.
In all his centuries, no one had ever dared kidnap a Prince of Asgard.
"Or what?" Loren smirked. "Did you think this was some kinky bondage game?"
"N-no! That's not—!" Loki stammered, eyes wide with dread.
"Enough chatter. You're an Asgardian prince—you must have something valuable on you."
"Here's the deal: ten seconds to hand over anything that impresses me. Succeed, and you walk free—go back, become King, do whatever.
Fail…" His grin turned sharp. "...and you rest here. Forever."
"10… 9… 8…"
"!!!" —Loki's soul left his body.
"Wait! Stop counting! I came in a rush—I only brought this dagger!"
"Even if you count till dawn, I've got nothing else! Just let me go, and I'll fetch treasure from Asgard myself! Name your price!"
He looked at Loren with desperate hope.
But Loren only sneered.
"Guess you won't cry until you see the coffin. Fine."
"2B, Mary Rose—play with him. Don't kill him. Just leave him… half-dead."
"!!!!" —Loki's bladder actually spasmed.
"Alright! Alright! I'll give it to you—right now!"
Seeing 2B crack her neck and Mary Rose roll up her sleeves, Loki surrendered instantly. He'd rather hand over Asgard's vault than endure that again.
Gritting his teeth, he stretched out his hand—and with a soft hum, a glowing blue containment box materialized in his palm.
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