God Simulator: The Goddesses In The Simulation Are All Real

"You lot don't deserve to be in the same line as us nobility. Know your place."

The other nobles behind him laughed, enjoying the spectacle as the Wasteborn and Inferiors kept their heads down, afraid to speak up.

Linsley, unfazed by the noble's arrogance, simply looked at the young man with an expression of calm indifference. He had already expected this type of behavior.

The noble continued, waving his hand dismissively. "You should be grateful we even allow you to stand in the same room. Now get out of my sight before I really get angry."

The nobles' laughter echoed throughout WcRonalds, filling the air with mockery, but what struck Linsley more was the reaction—or lack thereof—from the other customers.

The Wasteborn and Inferiors lowered their heads further, some shuffling back without protest, while others avoided eye contact entirely.

The staff behind the counter, who should have intervened, merely glanced over, their expressions blank with resignation, as if this kind of behavior was routine.

It wasn't just the staff and customers either. The royalties—diviners of a high rank who stood in their own exclusive line—remained completely indifferent to the scene. Their faces held no expressions of surprise or disgust.

They didn't even seem to register the conflict unfolding before them, as though the unfairness around them was simply part of everyday life. For them, the nobles' behavior was merely an inconvenience, not something worth addressing.

For the Wasteborn and Inferiors, this was the natural order. They had long been accustomed to this treatment from the nobles, and challenging it meant risking their lives. To the staff, stepping in would likely result in losing their jobs, or worse.

The noble who had pushed Linsley grinned arrogantly, sensing no resistance from those around him.

"See? Even the staff know better than to interfere when we nobles take what's ours." He crossed his arms, turning his back to Linsley with smug satisfaction.

Looking at the smug grin of the noble, who was only at Level 4.3, Linsley sighed as a golden gun appeared in his right hand, pointing it directly at the noble's head.

Almost a hundred guns soon materialized inside the establishment, hovering above the nobles and behind Linsley, all aimed at the Level 4.3 noble and his companions.

Releasing flux at Level 7, Linsley regarded the noble with disdain, as if he were nothing more than trash. "To be honest, I really wanted to just play the pig eating the tiger and then face-slap you all."

"But I'm no masochist, and it really irks me that someone as weak as you acts so high and mighty in front of me. What made you think I'm not royalty, someone superior to you lot?"

"Just because I'm not standing with the other royals? Or is it my casual clothing? The social hierarchy sure runs deep."

The nobles fell silent, shock plastered across their faces as they realized the severity of the situation.

The Level 4.3 noble's smug expression faltered, eyes widening in disbelief at the display of power before him.

Around them, the laughter died down, replaced by a tense atmosphere. The nobles, typically so comfortable in their arrogance, now felt exposed and vulnerable, surrounded by hovering golden guns pointed directly at them.

The royalties, all at Levels 6.1 and above but none reaching Level 7, glanced nervously at one another. They had always been the upper echelon of society, but even they understood that Linsley, with his Level 7 power, stood above them in this moment.

Linsley's presence overshadowed them, a force that shifted the balance of power in an instant. The nobles' bravado crumbled, their arrogance replaced by fear as they realized they were no longer in control of the situation.

"Let me make one thing clear," Linsley said, his voice steady and commanding. "You can try to throw your weight around all you want, but in my eyes, you're nothing."

The nobles exchanged nervous glances, their earlier bravado faltering.

Linsley pointed his golden handgun at the nobles, the weapon gleaming ominously in the light.

As he released the flux pressure from the guns, it felt as though he was about to pull the trigger. "Kneel."

Resistance flickered in their eyes, but the weight of his authority was undeniable.

One noble, attempting to assert himself, scoffed, "My father is a Level 7.3 royalty! He's stronger than you!"

Linsley's expression darkened as he released his flux, an overwhelming aura radiating at Level 8.

"I'm now Level 8. I'm above your fucking father. Kneel, or I'll consider this a provocation of my majesty as a Level 8 royalty. I'll exterminate your family, and no one will protect you."

The nobles' faces went pale. They had heard of the brutal realities of their world; the harsh social hierarchy favored the strong.

In that moment, they realized Linsley's words were more than just mere boasts.

What he said was true—strength dictated right in the Diviner World. Those who were stronger held the power, and Linsley had just proven he was far superior.

The nobles finally fell to their knees, their faces flushed with humiliation.

Linsley looked down at them, his expression a mix of amusement and disdain. "Now, slap your own faces," he commanded.

Reluctantly, they complied, the stinging impact of their own hands echoing in the silence.

However, one noble hesitated, defiance flickering in his eyes. "You shouldn't push us too far! My grandfather is a Level 8.6 royalty!" he blustered, trying to regain some semblance of dignity.

"Isn't your grandfather almost on his deathbed?" another noble interjected, a smirk spreading across his face.

He had already slapped his own face red and wasn't about to let the other noble escape unscathed.

The first noble shot him a furious glare, his anger boiling over. "Shut up! You're ruining my threat!"

Linsley sneered at their bickering. "I'm a Level 8 royalty. Did you really think I don't have parents and grandparents like you mere nobles? Even my family's guardian beast is an Overlord."

With their bravado shattered, the nobles looked up at him, confusion and fear in their eyes.

"Now," Linsley said, his voice cold and commanding, "bark like the mutts you are. You dared to offend me, so you should at least act the part."