Tom blinked. "That's… a bit vague, isn't it?"
[Mortals often require more specific terms, my lord. Try 'luxurious, discreet, and spacious.']
Dionysus smirked. "I need a car that cradles desire itself. A sanctuary for indulgence. Something that makes a mortal woman forget the world the moment she steps inside."
Tom's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "Well, uh… you're in luck." He gestured to a sleek, black truck parked beneath the brightest lights.
"This here is the GMC Sierra Denali Ultimate," Tom said, patting the truck's obsidian-black hood with a salesman's flourish. "Durable, powerful, and built for long, smooth rides. The leather interior is so soft it'll feel like… heaven."
Dionysus laughed softly, the sound a dark purr of amusement. "Heaven?" His gaze raked over the sleek lines of the truck, his fingers trailing along the polished surface. "Would mortals confuse it for a chariot of the gods?"
Tom blinked rapidly, caught between confusion and a nervous chuckle. "It's anything but ordinary, sir. Big wheels, powerful engine, and a sound system that, "
"That booms?" Dionysus offered dryly, his lips curving into a half-smirk.
Tom nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Plus, there's extra space in the back, top-tier leather seats, panoramic sunroof, and tinted windows. Perfect for… entertaining company."
Dionysus arched a brow. "A rolling sanctuary for indulgence?"
Tom swallowed hard. "Uh… sure. Let's go with that. Jimmy is the perfect one for you"
"Jimmy?"
Tom nodded slowly, "Yep," he tapped on the car's hood and bellowed. "Jimmy"
Dionysus stepped closer, his fingers trailing along the truck's hood, a touch too slow, too lingering, as though testing the car's reaction. "Not quite what I envisioned," he murmured, "but I'm intrigued."
[Analysis complete: 89% compatibility with your task. Would you like to proceed?]
Dionysus smiled wickedly. "Yes. Let's see if this 'Jimmy' lives up to its name."
As Tom hurried off to grab the keys, the system chimed softly:
[Mortals are eager to please. And yet… so unaware of their insignificance.]
Dionysus's laughter was soft, like velvet wrapped around sin. "At least we agree on something."
Dionysus stood beside the truck, its sleek, black exterior a polished mirror reflecting the dying sun. The Jimmy , a mortal contraption of steel and leather, nowhere near a chariot, yet oddly alluring in its own rugged way.
Tom, the salesman, handed him the keys with a proud smile. "Here you go, sir. She's all yours."
Dionysus stared at the tiny piece of metal in his palm, tilting his head. This… was power? He twirled the key ring on one finger, his lips curling into a half-smile. "And what am I meant to do with this?"
Tom blinked. "You… drive."
A long pause.
"I don't know how," Dionysus said flatly.
Tom's jaw dropped. "What?"
The air shifted, and then the familiar chime of the Pleasure System echoed in Dionysus's mind.
[It appears mortal inventions have evolved beyond your divine understanding, Lord Dionysus.]
[Recommendation: Learn to drive , unless you wish to seduce mortals on foot which means you failing this round.]
Dionysus's smile tightened. "I am a god. Why would I need to learn anything?"
[Because, my lord, the car won't move by sheer will alone. Your first conquest is location-based , a car. No driving, no seduction.]
Tom, still processing, managed to stammer, "I-I can get you a driving instructor."
Dionysus's jaw tensed. "You, do that."
Within minutes, a stout man with a weathered face and a no-nonsense aura appeared. His name tag read Roy.
"You're my student?" Roy asked, his eyes skimming over Dionysus's bare chest and flowing shawl. "Did you… forget your shirt?"
Dionysus lifted his chin. "This is what gods wear."
Roy let out a long sigh. "Right. Get in."
It looked like the man had met a number of weird humans and now missed the chance to believe an actual god.
Sliding into the driver's seat, Dionysus gripped the wheel, his fingers stroking the leather interior as though testing its worth. "This feels… underwhelming."
[Unlike your celestial chariot, my lord, this machine requires more than divine touch. Try turning the key.]
Dionysus twisted the key. The Jimmy roared to life, vibrating beneath him. His brows lifted. "It's alive."
Roy shot him a look. "It's an engine. Not a spirit."
[I must disagree, Lord Dionysus. The Jimmy car does seem to have a bit of a soul. Perhaps not as grand as yours, but…]
Dionysus smirked. "I like this machine."
"Good," Roy grumbled. "Now, foot on the brake, shift into drive."
The truck lurched forward, too fast.
"Easy! This isn't a chariot race!" Roy barked, gripping the side handle.
Dionysus narrowed his eyes. "It's overly sensitive."
[Or you're overly aggressive, my lord.]
He growled under his breath, easing the pressure on the pedal.
The lesson spiraled from there. Dionysus took corners like he was leading a battle charge, braked with all the subtlety of a thunderbolt, and narrowly missed flattening a row of cones when reversing.
"You're gonna kill someone," Roy muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.
Dionysus's fingers drummed the wheel. "Mortals are too fragile."
[Mortals tend to prefer seduction without vehicular manslaughter, Lord Dionysus.]
Dionysus rolled his eyes at the pleasure systems words, he wondered why the system was designed to look down on him. He might have to destroy it after he knoes his way around here.
By the third hour, however, the god of pleasure began to adapt. His touch grew smoother, his turns more fluid. Confidence replaced the initial brashness, his movements slow and controlled , as though taming a lover.
Roy folded his arms. "Not bad. You're picking this up quicker than most."
Dionysus flashed a lazy smile. "I am a fast learner."
[Indeed, my lord. Charm and skill , an irresistible combination.]
As the sun dipped lower, Roy clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You're good to go. Just remember: confidence, not recklessness."
Dionysus rolled the keys across his palm. "Confidence is not an issue."
Tom hovered nearby. "So… you're set?"
Dionysus slid into the driver's seat with a smirk. "Flawless."
He started the engine and pulled out of the dealership. The Jimmy growled down the street, a black streak against the late afternoon sky. Heads turned, some from the truck, others from the half-dressed god commanding it.
The system's voice purred in his mind.