First Intergalactic Emperor: Starting With The Ancient Goddess-Chapter 419: Staying at a Motel

The inside of the motel looked worse than the outside.

The lighting was low and uneven, panels flickering where the wiring couldn’t decide if it wanted to work or not. The air smelled like recycled coolant, old food, and something metallic that had soaked into the walls years ago. The floor tiles didn’t match, replaced in sections with different materials, different eras. Whoever owned the place fixed things only when they stopped working completely.

The receptionist sat behind a thick counter made of reinforced plastic and patched steel. He froze the moment Xavier stepped fully into view.

Xavier’s face was still a mess. The bandages were gone now, and what they’d been hiding wasn’t subtle. Torn flesh along the cheek, exposed structure near the jaw, discoloration around one eye that hadn’t healed right yet. Anyone with eyes could tell something catastrophic had hit him, and anyone with a functioning brain could tell he shouldn’t be standing there breathing.

The receptionist swallowed hard and didn’t speak.

Xavier leaned an elbow on the counter like this was any other night. "One room for me," he said. "They can take separate rooms if they want."

He glanced back briefly. "Do whatever. I’m not babysitting."

Rin muttered something under his breath and started looking around. Arlen stayed near the door, watching the street through the glass. Klatos stepped closer to the counter, reading the receptionist’s posture more than his face.

Xavier continued, unfazed. "I’m hungry. Real hungry. Tell whoever cooks here to wake the fuck up. I’ll need food. A lot of it. I’ll come down after I wash up."

The receptionist’s eyes flicked to Xavier’s face again, then away just as fast. "We... the kitchen—"

"Wake them," Xavier said. "Or make something yourself. I don’t care."

"I’ll pay at checkout," Xavier added. "And tell me where the nearest electronics store is. I need a phone."

That was too much.

The receptionist visibly stiffened, fear cutting through whatever routine he’d been running on. His gaze darted toward the street, toward the hallway, anywhere that wasn’t Xavier.

Klatos stepped in smoothly.

He leaned forward and spoke in his native language. Whatever he said wasn’t long, but it shifted the air immediately. The receptionist’s shoulders dropped a fraction.

Klatos turned slightly toward Xavier and lowered his voice. "Don’t talk about money here," he said. "Not openly. People listen. And they don’t need much encouragement. And I know you are strong enough to handle everything on your own, but you wouldn’t want any trouble when you are sleeping or eating, right?"

Xavier frowned. "Isn’t it common sense to not disturb someone who’s sleeping or eating?"

Klatos’s expression didn’t change. "Common sense doesn’t survive hunger. Or desperation."

Xavier clicked his tongue, clearly unimpressed, but he didn’t argue. He took the key the receptionist finally slid across the counter and headed for the stairs without another word.

The hallway outside the rooms looked like a time capsule that never decided what year it belonged to. Old neon strips ran along the ceiling, dimmed to a sickly glow. Doors were metal, scratched and dented, with manual locks reinforced by newer digital add-ons bolted on as an afterthought. The walls were covered in old ads, graffiti layered over older graffiti, some in languages Xavier couldn’t read.

His room was at the end of the corridor.

Inside, it was cramped but functional. A narrow bed with an exposed frame, a small table welded to the wall, a bathroom separated by a sliding panel that didn’t quite close all the way. The window looked out over the district, neon signs bleeding color into the darkness, drones drifting past like lazy insects.

Xavier shut the door behind him and locked it, then leaned back against it for a moment.

The place wasn’t comfortable at all, but it would do.

SIGH!

He went straight to the bathroom to take a shower, but the shower didn’t help the way he wanted it to.

The water pressure was weak and uneven, temperature flickering between lukewarm and slightly too hot, like the system couldn’t decide what decade it was built in. Xavier stripped and stepped under it anyway, keeping his back to the spray. He washed properly, slowly and thoroughly, shoulders, arms, chest, legs. When it came to his face and head, he stopped.

He couldn’t risk it.

He leaned forward instead, bracing his hands against the wall while the water ran uselessly behind him. It felt wrong, unfinished, like walking out of a fight without checking if the other guy was actually down.

When he shut the water off and grabbed a towel, he avoided the mirror at first.

Then he didn’t.

The reflection hit harder than the missile had.

What stared back at him barely looked human in places. Torn flesh along the cheek hadn’t closed cleanly. The structure underneath showed through in spots where it shouldn’t. One eye sat slightly off, still functional but surrounded by damage that made it look dead at the wrong angle. Teeth showed where lips no longer covered them properly. Parts of his skull had been patched just enough to keep him alive, not enough to make him presentable.

He clenched the sink.

"So this is it," he muttered. "This is what I get."

He’d survived things that should have erased him completely, and this was the price. Being alive but looking like a warning sign.

His jaw tightened. "Great."

He straightened slowly. "Guess that leaves one option."

Justice points.

He hadn’t wanted to use them like this. They were meant for leverage, rare items, things that changed the board. Spending them on fixing his own face felt wasteful. Necessary, but wasteful.

"Dimensional store," he muttered. "Of course. But let’s delay that for now." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

DING~ DONG!

The doorbell rang.

Xavier grabbed the towel, wrapped it around his waist, and went to the door. He opened it just enough to see Klatos standing there with three bags in his hands.

Klatos just shifted the bags slightly. "Got what I could without drawing attention."

Xavier opened the door wider. "Good timing."

Klatos stepped inside and set the bags down on the table. "Clothes," he said, tapping the first. "Shoes and essentials," tapping the second. "Phones," tapping the third. "Cheap. Local. Nothing that screams money. Set it up on the motel’s bill."

Xavier nodded. "That works."

"The others are already downstairs," Klatos added. "They grabbed a table and ordered drinks. Waiting on you."

"I’ll be down in a bit," Xavier said. "I need to make a call first."

After he left, Xavier closed the door and locked it again.

He dried off, pulled on the clothes Klatos had brought. They were simple, dark, functional, nothing flashy. The shoes fit well enough. He picked one of the phones and powered it on.

’Cheap interface. Slow boot. Perfect.’

He went through the setup fast, fingers moving on instinct. Fake digital identity layer. Rolling encryption. Randomized carrier hops. Temporary network masks that reset every session and scrubbed themselves if idle too long. It wasn’t pretty, but it worked. Angel had drilled this into him during the time they spent together, especially in the club room.

The phone connected.

Xavier leaned back against the table and looked at the screen.

"Alright," he muttered. "Who should I call? I am missing everyone."

His thumb hovered over the keypad.

"I have been surrounded by so many people that I never thought I would miss them when they aren’t by my side..."