My Gluttony System: I Devour God-Tier Talents-Chapter 30: The Price For Peace

Leonel’s voice hung in the air like gravity didn’t exist in that moment.

"Exile"

This was it, Negan thought, something he dreaded but had determined to be the only way out of this without bloodshed or at least anymore of it.

Saul’s mismatched eyes had been on Negan all this while. His expression was one that was difficult to interpret but he was definitely thinking about it.

The tension in the room was palpable after all, Saul had peace hanging in the balance.

"The boy leaves Strevus for good never to return "

Saul words finally broke the silence and sliced through the tension.

"Exactly," Leonel said. "He’s gone. Out of your territory, out of sight. The underworld hears that you demanded justice and got it. Your reputation stays intact."

" Hmmm— Saul grunted at Leonel’s words. They were possible but only if the boy never returns

—what happens if he returns"

"Then the deal is null" Leonel said simply.

"And you’re free to act however you see fit."

Saul’s emotions were even more open now. His hands still clutched greedily on the table.

Negan could see that his anger was still evident but so was his calculative side.

"Where does he go?" Saul asked bluntly.

"Not your business," Negan answered quietly.

"He leaves. That’s all that matters to you"

Something snapped in Saul as his gaze fixated on Negan.

"Then I want it official, with a written term. Everything clear"

"Of course,"

Leonel said.

"I’ll have my people draft it tonight. We all sign. A binding agreement amongst men"

Soon, another moment of silence was held at the table.

Negan could hear his heartbeat slow down. This was the make or break moment in the course of this meeting.

Things either stabilised or totally collapsed here and now.

Finally, Saul leaned back in his chair.

His expression was still gloomy and furious but his eyes carried a consciousness that beat the rage.

"Fine," he said.

"The boy can leave. But if I ever see him in Strevus again—if I even hear he’s back—I kill him. No negotiation. No second chances."

"Understood—Negan said.

Saul smirked feeling he had established an upper hand.

—-But if I find out you go after him in any way or manner then I will have your head"

Negan continued his voice cold enough to freeze a lake.

His eyes flickered like electricity ran across them.

" Sounds like an agreement." Leonel cuts in before the atmosphere tensed up again.

"And one more thing," Saul added, his voice dropping seemingly ignoring Negan’s threat.

"Vivienne stays here. She’s mine. This doesn’t change that."

Negan’s expression didn’t change.

"That was never in the equation."

Saul glare lingered on him for another second or two, then stood abruptly.

"We’re done here. Send me the terms tomorrow."

He shifted the chair back and began walking away.

His footsteps, though slow, echoed in the warehouse.

Just before he reached the door, he paused and looked back.

"Tell your boy he got lucky."

"Next time, he won’t"

He walked out and disappeared into the evening.

Leonel exhaled, the tension was finally dissipating.

"Well. That went better than i expected."

Negan stayed quiet. He was still processing the entire scenario.

Saul had agreed. The deal was done.

Kyrie would live. There wasn’t going to be a war.

But the look in Saul’s eyes—the look honed a sense of patience.

The fact that he didn’t talk about his dead men.

It told Negan this wasn’t over. Not completely.

Saul had just decided to wait. Hold his peace.

"You did well,"

Negan said finally as he stood.

"Thank you, Leonel."

"Business," Leonel replied with a slight smile.

"Peace is profitable. War is expensive." He paused.

"Also the boy seems to have potential. Why let it waste over something like this "

They shook hands, and Negan turned towards the door.

He had to get back to Kyrie.

Had to tell him what happened, what it meant.

Exile meant his son would have to leave Strevus.

Leave everything he knew.

Start over somewhere new.

But he’d be alive.

And that was what truly mattered.

—----

Earlier that day...

Abandoned Kalahaam Station, Lower Strevus.

Kyrie wiped sweat from his forehead, his chest heaving hardly as his crimson eyes surveyed the destruction around him.

The abandoned underground train station had definitely had better days.

Probably a few years back before the gang violence got so bad and the city gave up on completing it.

Now all that was left was rusted iron, cracked concrete and unrealized dreams.

It was exactly what Kyrie needed.

He’d found the place that morning, after Negan left to prepare for the negotiation.

He needed a place to train, to test his abilities properly without the dread of burning down something and drawing unwanted attention.

The station was the perfect location. It was underground, isolated and looked sound enough that he wouldn’t unintentionally bring it down on himself.

Probably.

To his right , there was a half-melted train car sitting on the side amidst twisted tracks

It’s body was cracked and blackened from back to back exposure to his flames.

Kyrie had spent hours working on control.

He created fire, shaped it, adjusted it’s intensity.

He tossed it, punched with it and even tried slashing with it.

Over and over until his reserves ran low and his head started pounding.

One thing he noticed was that his reserves weren’t the best right now.

But it was working. He could feel the difference already.

The flames came easier now, and responded quicker to him.

He had improved significantly. The evolution was evident.

To his left, there was a stack of rail metals that were bent into unnatural shapes from different angles.

That was from experimenting further with his Emperor Hamd—trying more innovative ways to use his telekinetic hold.

Kyrie couldn’t do much with it shape manipulation of objects but he was getting better afterall the system stressed out how it was necessary.

He also knew he had to find efficient ways of using his abilities since his energy limits were quite thin.

Practice and experience proved it.

He shifted now to more physical practice, leaping from one train head to another.

He was desperately trying to get his mind off the meeting that decided his future, focusing on the things he could control.

An Hour after the Meeting...

Kyrie had finished training and was in the safehouse again.

Katherine was with him, she had arrived to cook for them even before he had left for the train station.

They had picked up from when she last visited but this time he wasn’t just trying not to make her feel awkward.

This time she didn’t have to be watchful and careful of what she said, like she was walking in a room filled with egg shells.

He remembered her perfectly now, ever since the memory fragments solidified and he accepted this was now his life. Everything had fallen in place.

They chatted a bit but he had left alone to train.

Kyrie who looked drained was walking to her like a zombie hungry for brains.

"Hope there is still food?"

" Of course. " Katherine answered with a smile.

"But you would have to wait a bit, your father should be here anytime soo. He called "

"Ohhh, I guess it’s over, " Kyrie said, his thoughts drifting again.

Katherine noticed and moved closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulders. Massaging them softly with fondness.

"You would be fine , Negan is never one to come short "

Kyrie only nodded. His confidence in Negan reinforced by the woman’s words.

" Now go take a bath, you smell like rotten salmon " She mocked.

Kyrie smirked in agreement as he moved to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, Kyrie was already out of the bathroom just dressed in a white, cotton short sleeve shirt and brown pants.hen heavy steps echoed at the door.

He didn’t even need to be told, he knew it was Negan.

Katherine was still there, packing up the remains of the food. She looked up as Negan approached, and her face lit up.

"Hey, You " she said warmly.

"Hey, beautiful" Negan replied, his tone softening.

He moved to her, and without hesitation, pulled her into a kiss, his right hand trailing her hair.

His left hand had slid to her lower back as he squeezed against her soft and plump buttocks confidently.

She didn’t protest for a second, letting go of what she was doing and wrapping both hands around his shoulder.

"Get a room you two "

Kyrie said while he looked away, giving them privacy and teasing at same time.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen them together—his restored memories included plenty of moments like this but it still felt weird.

When they separated, Negan kept his hand on Katherine’s hip.

"Thank you for cooking."

"Always," she said, smiling.

Then she glanced at Kyrie.

"I’ll leave you two to talk. Take care of yourself, Kyrie."

"You too, Katherine."

She gathered her things intently and left the duo.

Negan looked at Kyrie, his eyes squinting as if he could tell something changed in the boy.

"You’ve been busy huh ?" he said.

"Had to do something while waiting," Kyrie replied.

He searched his father’s face, trying to read the outcome.

"So?"

Negan blue eyes mixed with his red as he spoke

"It’s done. You get to live."

Relief washed through Kyrie’s body and mind.

But he could tell there was more, Negan’s tone wasn’t straight forward and he deduced they must have been a price for his life.

"But?"

"But you’re leaving Strevus," Negan said quietly.

"That was the deal. Your Exile. You go to go and never come back, and Saul’s little reputation stays intact. Everyone gets something."

Kyrie took in the words.

Exile.

Leaving everything behind. Starting over.

A part of him had expected this. Maybe even wanted it.

But another protested against it. This was all he knew.

Sure, Strevus was dangerous, too much of a rush. The past few days were proof of that.

He was hesitant but he trusted Negan more.

"Where am I going?" he asked quietly.

Negan’s expression went from bland to a smile. A fake one maybe but a smile nonetheless.

"Somewhere better. I’ll tell you everything. But first—"

He gestured to the counter at the back.

Kyrie blinked. "What?"

"You’ve been training all day according to Lois. Why don’t you show and tell, while we have dinner "

He walked towards the counter where the food was while unbuttoning his shirt to get more comfortable.

Despite everything—the exile, the weight of uncertainty and a future that seemed formless right now.

Kyrie smiled.

"Alright," he said, raising his hand slightly as orange flames formed.