The Villainess Returns with a System-Chapter 114: The Superhuman

The scene unfolded as follows:

A carriage drawn by six Hulkling Warriors halted a short distance from ViTech headquarters. A large, red-headed man emerged, his appearance jarring; his hair and beard were unkempt and curly, and he reeked of blood and iron.

Instinctively, everyone understood that this was no ordinary man, for he was one of the few who could disrupt global peace with a mere gesture.

Known among the world’s most powerful figures as the Superhuman, his presence exuded power and commanded authority, and the scent of war and murder clung to him as he moved.

The atmosphere around him was chaotic, yet each faction knew its place on the stage. The Marshall knights bowed to their liege lord; among them was Richard, who aimed his Dragon Slayer spear downward and lowered his head, one fist across his chest. The two Hulklings holding the struggling Dragon-Tiger stood aside, not daring to obstruct the Elgard’s war deity. Beyond them stood a young lady and an entourage of intriguing individuals, guarding the gate of ViTech with defiant eyes.

Count Henry Marshall narrowed his eyes, his quick wit and sharp senses allowing him to grasp the situation swiftly. He needed no explanation, deducing the events simply by observing the parties involved.

He turned to his son and spoke:

"Richard, is that a Dragon Slayer?" he asked in a deep, emotionless voice, his intentions veiled.

"Yes, my Lord," Richard replied, lowering his head further.

"And your prey? That beast?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Those who did not kneel to the count, namely Vivian and her entourage, witnessed his shift in expression. Those who knelt felt the almost immediate change in his mood.

"Why use that weapon?" he asked with a chilling tone, as if anticipating the answer.

"I... I meant to... I wanted to hunt it, my Lord, to take its power for myself, as you do, Lord Father," Richard replied, hesitant and emotional, as best he could, unable to raise his eyes, act out of line, or even think inappropriately.

The Superhuman’s dominant spirit was overwhelming, and that terrifying aura was directed solely at Richard.

"You fool! To think I would call you son? What a disgrace!"

In her two lives, Vivian had seen much. She had witnessed bad relationships, good relationships, bad parents, failed upbringings, and by no means was she an expert on how to raise a child. But in her two lives, she had never witnessed such disdain from a parent towards their child.

There was something deeply unhealthy at play, and the feeling between these two was loathsome.

Count Henry averted his gaze from his son and approached the two Hulklings holding the Dragon-Tiger. With a mere gesture, he seized the beast by the neck, pushed the Hulklings aside, and addressed his knights:

"If you aspire to kill and seize power as a proud Marshall would, never disgrace yourself by using a weapon, especially one designed for your prey. You will gain nothing, you will be nothing, and you will achieve nothing. If you desire power, true power..."

Crack!

"...kill with your bare hands!"

The Count of House Marshall hurled the lifeless corpse of the Dragon-Tiger at Richard with such force that Richard was thrown back several meters.

Instantly, Knight Eric moved to catch Richard before he crashed to the ground. In one swift motion, he managed to support Richard and stabilize his stance before lowering his head and pulling Richard down with him.

Seeing this, the Count seemed less enraged than before and regarded the knight with stern eyes.

"Eric, you are squandering your potential."

"My Lord, please, I beg for mercy on behalf of Young Lord Richard. He knew no better, and it is my fault for failing to advise him properly," Eric said, lowering his head further.

Lord Henry merely shook his head and walked away. This time, his target was Vivian and her people.

As he approached, the courage and defiance they had displayed moments before vanished. Except for Vivian, who knew that her best defense was to meet his gaze directly, the others who stood their ground were Logan and Esmeralda. For them, it was a matter of duty rather than courage or fear.

Vivian almost flinched at the sight of the man, but she had dealt with his type before—men who could smell weakness and would act worse than rabid dogs if they sensed it.

However, as he drew closer, he seemed to be looking not at Vivian but at Esmeralda, who stood behind her.

"You, Hulkling maid," he spoke with authority, almost compelling Esmeralda to obey, but the Hulkling girl seemed confident in finding shelter behind her smaller mistress.

"Yes, my Lord?" Esmeralda replied clearly, glancing at the warriors of her kind who silently served the human.

"Are you one of those who came to Elgard to challenge me?" he asked, as if the world revolved around him, "Are you here, perhaps, to reclaim your father or brother?"

As he spoke, he gestured towards the ten Hulklings behind him.

"Excuse me, my Lord, but my father is human, and my brother does not resemble any of those men."

"Hm? So a stray like yourself is doing nothing in Elgard but... playing servant?"

It seemed that Count Henry had encountered young Hulklings who had pursued him from the southern continent to Elgard, shedding light on the nature of the ten Hulkling warriors behind him.

These were slaves, warrior slaves whom he had personally subjugated from the Hulkling people. Legend had it that the most powerful man in Elgard had once campaigned in the southern continent, challenging the ten greatest warriors and asserting his dominance over them, taking them back against their will.

This incident, though a trivial story in Elgard, had left deep scars in the Suran, as young Hulklings would travel to Elgard to rescue those ten.

"Hey!"

At that moment, Vivian did the unthinkable.

She addressed the Superhuman, a man known for the rule, "Do not speak until spoken to."

The Superhuman narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Vivian, who seemed unafraid to display hostility, and examined her carefully.

"If you intend to block my gate and converse with my personal maid, you should have hired her before me, Lord Marshall," Vivian spoke sharply.

Her words caused those around her to nearly jump and attempt to silence her. Vivian could be reckless, but she usually possessed common sense. Yet, in this critical situation, her basic sense seemed to have deserted her.

The man she addressed, however, was not as astonished as the others, but rather amused and grinning.

"And what if I am?" he replied, rubbing his chin.

"Well... Your right honorable Count of Marshall can either grace us with your presence inside, or schedule a formal meeting if your hands are currently full. But let me warn you, your son’s pet has made quite the mess upstairs."

"Heh heh!" The Superhuman chuckled, but his smile gradually faded as he noticed the weapon in her hand, "But you handled that pet well, for a maiden. Did Julian give you that firearm?"

"And what if he did?" freewebnσvel.cѳm

"Then he is breaking yet another rule for another woman. Women should cower behind their knights and leave fighting to the men," he said, casting a disdainful glance at Logan.

"Truly?" Vivian replied with feigned shock before tilting her head and asking, "I have always heard stories of warrior women fighting alongside the Superhuman: the Queen of Buren and Justiciar Titania of Novark."

"Of course, child, but these are not just any women," he said nonchalantly.

"Is that so?"

She asked, brandishing the oversized rifle as if to prove that she was not just any woman, either. But in a split second, Count Henry Marshall snatched the rifle from her hands.

"Hey!"

She shouted, attempting to reclaim her rifle, but Logan was already in front of her, protecting her with all he had.

He was sweating and nervous, knowing that he was hopelessly outmatched against the Superhuman and would die before he even realized it if a fight broke out.

"Give it back! That’s mine!"

Vivian tried to walk past Logan, who did his best to stay between her and Count Marshall, causing the latter to smile with glee.

"Now that’s how it is supposed to look."

He said, commenting on how, having lost her weapon, she could only be protected by a knight.

In his view, this was how it should have been from the start. Sooner or later, a girl like Vivian had to learn her place.

He turned and headed towards his carriage, but before leaving, he turned to Vivian and spoke:

"Great Elgard thanks you for contributing to her great arsenal."

He climbed into his carriage, pulled by Hulklings, taking Vivian’s gun as a trophy and leaving her feeling belittled and humiliated.

The situation remained tense, and no one dared to speak first. Logan, who had nearly suffered a heart attack, did not leave Vivian’s side until the last of the Marshalls had departed behind their lord’s carriage.

Esmeralda bit her lip in silence while Oscar and Jane, the only executives who remained emotionally stable, began to clean up the mess.

The Dragon-Tiger’s corpse was collected and moved to the back of the building, as was the Dragon Slayer spear discarded by Richard, and the streets were reopened to the public.

However, the most distraught of all was Voros, who had chased Vivian up the stairs but had been hampered by his short legs. Upon reaching her office, he stormed past Esmeralda and found Vivian inside with Logan, Morris, and Jane.

"Chief! Chief! This bad... that gun... most advanced... if they open... they learn our technique."

The Duergar was right.

The oversized rifle Vivian had used to fight the Dragon-Tiger was the most advanced firearm they had created, and they were the most advanced firearms makers in the world.

In the hands of the Royal Army’s Engineers, these secrets would be quickly unlocked, and chaos would spread across the world.

They had been careless... far too careless.

Now they had given Pandora’s Box to the greediest of all, and it was only a matter of time before its evils washed the world with gunpowder and blood.

"Did we give him anything, though?"

But Vivian, contrary to everyone’s expectations, was leaning against her desk and seemed oddly relaxed.

"My lady, isn’t this what we feared?" Jane asked with a worried expression.

As Vivian’s gunsmith, she knew that once the secrets of that firearm were unraveled, she would be the first person sought out by the army for involuntary service.

But Vivian merely raised the hand she had been hiding behind her back, and what she held caused everyone to narrow their eyes and step closer.

In her hand was the bolt—smooth, oiled steel, its locking lugs and firing pin still intact. This deceptively compact mechanism was the brain and backbone of the entire weapon. In truth, it was the rifle. Without it, the oversized firearm was nothing more than a hollow steel tube with a stock and a dead trigger—an expensive clubbing tool at best.

"Are you telling me that..." Jane began, trying to formulate a question.

"You snatched the mechanism?" Oscar finished for her.

"I don’t know what you guys are talking about," Vivian replied playfully, denying everything like a thieving lawyer.

"Chief! Chief! Beautiful chief!"

Excited, Voros ran to Vivian, hugged her tightly, and began carrying her around as she screamed and laughed. But as soon as he set her down...

"Whoa!"

...it all finally caught up with her.

<< System Reboot Complete! >>

Clink-clink!

Vivian dropped the bolt from her hand and staggered, clutching her head. Immediately, everyone rushed to support her, and Voros was blamed. But as she sat down on a sofa, she dismissed their worries, saying that the fight against the Dragon-Tiger had taken its toll.

Logan immediately sent for a physician, and Esmeralda cleared the room for her to rest. Despite the gaping hole where the window had been and the construction work that would be required, Vivian was preoccupied with something else.

She raised her hand and examined it closely. There, she saw the cause of her troubles clinging to her ring finger.

That Spell Ring, which she had so naively tried on, had done something she could not fathom, and now the system had sustained some sort of damage. Vivian could not determine the nature of the damage, as she was completely unaware of the System’s inner workings, but she knew it was not a simple error.

Now, it was time to face the consequences of her stupidity.

<< Error Report: Fatal Karmic damage has been sustained by the System. Please refrain from trying suspicious magical items in the future. For more technical information, tap here to view the crash log. >>

"I will not do it again. Sorry about today, Sir System," Vivian said and closed her eyes to rest, but another message followed.

<< User has received major Karmic damage. Bad events will happen in the future. >>

<< Solution Found: Karmic damage was successfully resisted. Half of the Karmic damage was transformed into Psychic damage. >>

"I am feeling it."

≪ Solution Details: Your newly acquired Spell Ring specs have been adjusted to a minimum. Even if you learn magic, it will be of no use. ≫

"Of no use?" Vivian looked at the system message with a frown. "Why? I know I wore the wrong ring, but... what is the harm of having the wrong ring? And where is that supposedly right ring to begin with?"

≪ As a result of your actions, you have been denied a great opportunity. If you can’t use the designated ring, the instructions were that you are not supposed to use magic. ≫

"What the fuck? System, whose instructions are those? Who decided those things?"

Vivian was freaked out by the disturbing realization.

All this time, she had thought the system was hers privately, perhaps inherited by mistake or given to her due to some mystical incident. But it seemed that this was not entirely the case.

It was fashioned for her, designed not only to give her power but to control her.

She was not "supposed" to acquire a Spell Ring different from the one "Fate" had in store for her.

And her question, she now realized, was not an accident as she had thought.

It was for the sake of something she did not fully comprehend.

And her question was right on point.

Who was controlling the System?

The source of this c𝐨ntent is fre𝒆w(e)bn(o)vel