Athanasia: My Hacker System-Chapter 241: What is Your Type, John Mirage?
Once woke up, John immediately pulled up the map. The sight of the yellow flood covering nearly the entire territory made him realise he had been out for much longer than intended. The density of the monster dots was alarming.
"I’ll first eat, then move to stop the dens," he decided, his voice raspy. "I believe the others have harvested enough cores from these monsters by now. It’s time to close the taps."
He took out a portion of cooked meat from his inventory and drank deeply from a flask, feeling the headache ease away. Then, he sprang into action. After the life-or-death struggle against the Soroliths, these yellow monsters felt like children in comparison. Their movements were slow, and they didn’t pose a single threat to him.
John moved forward with steady, calm steps, unleashing a relentless barrage of his abilities without bothering to worry about Mental Points conservation thanks to his frequent use of the MP Absorption ability.
His sword flashed in the dim light, slashing right and left in a dance of death, each slash generating a shadow of lightning that followed, making sure not a single monster survived. Nothing stood in his path; he was a force of nature carving a bloody trail through the horde.
When he reached the first den, the system pinged with a notification: it was currently at the Twenty-Sixth Wave. John didn’t hesitate. He initiated a direct hack, successfully adding another Pocket Trial Ownership part to his growing collection. Without staying to admire the work, he turned on his heel and headed toward the second den. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞
Just like the previous encounters, as he hacked the den’s core, he received the standard warning about the backlog of monsters waiting in the void. He knew that even with the den closed, the remaining quota would continue to leak out until the wave was satisfied. He didn’t dwell on it; he knew that by the time this night ended, the entire territory would be under his total, undisputed control.
His movements didn’t go unnoticed. As he made his way toward the third and final den, news of his progress spread like wildfire through the territory. His friends, stationed in their respective zones, saw the shifting patterns of the monster swarms and realised their boss was back online. They knew the three dens were about to be sealed, which meant the supply of yellow cores would soon dry up.
Instead of rushing to meet him, they each made a silent, independent vow to work as hard as possible in the remaining hours. They pushed themselves to the limit, collecting every single core they could scavenge from the dying waves, planning to regroup only after this long nightmare was finally over.
During this final push, the four humans noticed a weird shift in the environment. For a reason they couldn’t quite grasp, the Bulltors had suddenly developed an intense interest in the cores.
The giants began to harvest the cores from the fallen monsters around their locations. However, they remained cautious, never venturing too deep into the humans’ designated zones as if fearing to instigate the wrath of their benefactors.
None of the humans could tell exactly when or why this shift had occurred. They didn’t realise that their own heated, daily competitions over core counts had finally convinced the Bulltors of the items’ inherent value.
Even if the Bulltors’ own attempts to mimic the humans by consuming the cores directly had failed, they had reached a conclusion: if the humans prized these cores above all else, then the cores were the ultimate currency.
To the Bulltors, the cores were now the best tool to stay on the good side of their powerful allies. The more they collected, the better their future options would be.
"It’s... Finally... Over!"
The fighting continued well into the second half of the night, exactly as John had calculated. When the final yellow monster fell, and its dead body hit the dirt, Luke was the first to let out a cry of victory.
His shout was immediately answered by the thunderous, earth-shaking roars of four thousand Bulltors. The girls broke into triumphant laughter, the tension of the last five days finally snapping. Ricky just stood there, a wide, tired smile on his face, quietly watching the celebration erupt across the newly conquered land.
"Let’s celebrate!" Elena suddenly shouted, her voice echoing across the area. "I don’t find any blue cattle here, but luckily I have enough raw meat to cook for all of us! Dinner is on me tonight!"
She began to move with a ferocity that rivalled her combat prowess. From her inventory, she started pulling out dozens of food storage caskets, one of the many items John had initially dismissed as useless when sorting through the mountain of Lanmar’s group loot.
Elena, however, had seen their value. She had filled them to the brim with large pieces of Blue Terakos meat, already seasoned, cut, and prepared for the grill. As she had promised, she had more than enough to feed the entirety of the four thousand Bulltors and her friends.
"She really does love food," Cissel remarked, stepping up to John’s side. She watched with a chuckle as Elena began setting dozens of fires, orchestrating a small army of Bulltors to prepare wooden grilling sticks. "When I watch her like that, I can’t help but feel she and Luke are really suited for each other."
"That’s what I think as well," John replied. The smile hadn’t left his face since the moment he woke up to find the tide had turned. Seeing his friends acting like normal young adults for once was a relief he hadn’t known he needed. "The two of them are a perfect match."
"That reminds me..." Cissel suddenly shifted her weight. She took a few steps, positioning herself directly in front of him, eye to eye. Her gaze was intense, searching. "What is your perfect match, John Mirage?"
"Hahaha!" John let out a startled laugh, caught completely off guard. He felt as though he had walked straight into a trap of her making without even catching a scent of it.
"Don’t try to find a way out of this question," she insisted, taking a step closer. She didn’t flinch; her eyes locked onto his. "I need to know the answer. What type of girl do you usually hunt down and chase after?"
"Well..." John’s thoughts drifted back. His mind travelled across the vast gulf of time and space, back to his life on Earth before the system, before Athanasia, and before the apocalypse. He let out a slow, heavy sigh. "To be honest, I never went out with a girl before."
"What?!!!" Cissel’s eyebrows shot up toward her hairline, her expression one of pure disbelief. "You are lying!"
"I wish I were," John sighed again. A kaleidoscope of memories flashed through his mind: nights spent bathed in the blue light of a monitor, lines of code, and a crushing sense of solitude.
"To girls back then, I was just a weirdo. I wasn’t an athlete, and I wasn’t a rich boy. I was just too smart to be fooled, and in my experience, girls seemed to hate smart men."
"You speak as if you only ever met trashy girls," Cissel said softly. She began to play with a strand of her hair, her confidence suddenly wavering. She looked away, unable to maintain direct eye contact. "To me... To me, I’ve always looked for a smart man. Someone... To fall in love with..."
She stopped abruptly, the words hanging in the cool night air. Before John could process the confession, she suddenly turned and ran off toward the cooking fires, as if she had suddenly realised she had exposed far too much of what was buried deep in her heart.
Watching her flee like that brought a slow, satisfying smile to John’s face, a smile that lingered for a very long time. Her last words kept ringing in his mind like a persistent notification. Throughout the evening, he found himself stealing glances at her across the celebratory gathering, only to find her doing the exact same thing from her safe distance by Elena’s side.
For the rest of the night, Cissel kept herself firmly attached to Elena’s shadow, avoiding any further private conversation. Luke, meanwhile, grabbed John and took him on a boisterous tour through the Bulltors’ ranks. The tall youngster was in high spirits, pointing at John and shouting grand praises to any Bulltor whom the two met, hailing him as the mastermind of their salvation.
The entire territory was ushered into a state of festive bliss that lasted until the early hours of the next day. No one cared about the nightmares of tomorrow; they only knew that the toughest thorn in their side had been extracted.
Even if the Bulltors had technically lost the ownership of this pocket trial to John and his four friends, they felt only joy. Taking back double from the Hiveminds, who had slaughtered so many of their kin in this trial and others, was a victory they would celebrate for a lifetime.
The celebration continued through the rest of the day and well into the next night. Eventually, everyone became too exhausted to keep the party going. One by one, humans and Bulltors alike fell into deep, peaceful slumbers inside the well-defended zones John had created during the height of the war.
Yet, when the next morning finally arrived, John was destined to welcome a change he had never expected, was not even prepared to face.
