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[img]https://i.imgur.com/kNmO8zV.png[/img]
[b][color=DarkOrange]wordcount: [/color][/b] 377(+1)
[b][color=DarkOrange]Location:[/color][/b] Forbidden Kingdom - Esaka’s High Tier
[b][color=DarkOrange]Amaterasu: level 9 (1 level up stored) [/color][/b] EXP: [color=DarkOrange]///////////////////////////////////////////////////////[/color]/////////////////////////// (58/90)
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After feeling smug about the compliment, Amaterasu settled down to hear the bear’s tale of woe, and it didn’t take long for his talk of how he’d been treated to get her righteously furious. For the goddess whose contexts where a celestial realm, feudal japan, and demon infested cities and ruins (both in her world and in the DeadZone where she’d awoken in this life), the specifics of this kind of economic strong arming were not business as usual but highly offensive to her sense of justice and fairness.

It also felt so incredibly petty in the face of all she’d experienced. Did she not have enough? Was it spite that drove her to try and snuff out a fellow merchant? A delight at the cruel joy of it? Or simple, naked, unrepentant greed, a hunger that could never be satiated?

Suffice to say that, even were it not for her sponsor’s crimes, the divine wolf would have despised Azucena and everything she stood for. By the end of it her heckles were raised and she was growling in the woman’s direction, though being at the back of the crowd this would not stand out much to any but those close by.

This anger had a lid of worry was briefly shoved onto it when Harry got called out by the woman for her heckling, only for things to boil over when she spoke of her thugs being there to prevent others ‘stealing her spotlight’ or ‘making a scene’ given that was exactly why she was here, and was exactly what she was doing to the bear and his Polar Star Coffee van.

Enough was enough. 

The bully of small business bears and broken ribbed men deserved karmic justice and the wrath of a goddess delivering it.

She leapt up into the air, and then jumped again to land atop the polar star van, before pausing time and performing some divine intervention. Then she raised her snout the the heavens and howled a soul piercing howl as the beams of light raiding from the sun she’d moved lit up her snow white coat, the van beneath her, and a word written in a single perfect cursive brushstroke across the face of the electronic billboard behind her:

[h3]Hypocrite![/h3]