When The System Spoils You For No Reason-Chapter 42 - Forty Two
"The world is vast, and there are always people stronger than you."
— Dracule Mihawk from One Piece
...
The large open field was heavy with somber energy. The air tasted of ozone and dust, laced with the faint, coppery tang of spilled blood. The Expanse’s strange, multi-hued light threw long, distorted shadows from the scattered debris of camp.
Enel sat on a rough-hewn stone, head bent, gaze fixed on Eve as though the sword might offer something useful. The familiar weight of the blade across his lap felt different now. He could not believe he had lost—though he was aware that sounded exactly like the lament of a minor villain from the stories his younger cousins used to read.
But to lose to someone he hadn’t known existed until four days ago, at the entrance of all places. That caterwauling voice now felt like a prophecy he’d been too arrogant to hear.
Foremost genius, indeed. The words turned bitter in his mind. I’m just a frog at the bottom of a well.
This incident had cracked his world open. Having reached S-Rank, he had settled into a kind of natural ease. He still trained—of course he did—but no longer with the bone-deep fervor, the desperate hunger that had clawed him up from the lower ranks. The fire had banked to embers, because he was the strongest in his circle.
Or so he had believed.
In raw stats, he had surpassed that bastard. But that man’s abilities had beaten something into him: the brutal, hierarchical truth behind the difference in innate ability rank. He had always looked down on the need for a quality innate ability, secure in the sheer weight of his traits. His own innate ability carried an S-Rank in name only—nearly useless to his archetype, a formality he’d never bothered to mourn.
Frog.
"Young Lord."
Cassian’s voice pulled him back. Enel looked at his retainer—really looked—and saw the worry etched at the corners of his eyes, the particular set of his shoulders that spoke of shared humiliation. "I understand you now," Enel said, his voice rougher than he’d intended.
He rose, muscles protesting with an ache that was more mental than physical. He finally understood it: the hollow, gnawing feeling of the weak—that sensation of being wholly overshadowed by someone stronger, someone better. Like Cassian, a genius in his own right, subjugated and turned into loyal cannon fodder. The irony sat like a cold stone in his gut.
He exhaled slowly, the sound swallowed by the vastness of the field.
"Gather round, everyone. Or stay where you are if you’re too hurt." His gaze swept the ravaged camp—the severed limbs of fine Aurelian women. The options just kept decreasing.
Heh. When have I ever cared about options?
"I understand you feel saddened by our loss," he began, his voice carrying with a weary, unfamiliar resonance. "You feel confused. That’s what happens when you’re weak. Today, we were the weak ones. We got invaded, beaten, and our loot was pillaged."
He let the silence settle over them like ash.
"I know you think of me as a pillar. But I need a pillar too. Right now, the only ones more vengeful than I am are the handicapped. Or the handless." A dry, humorless sound escaped him. "Heh. He beat a sense of humor into me, it seems."
"Anyway." He straightened, a flicker of the old command returning to his spine. "I need motivation too. So get off your asses and find some. When we leave this place, train. Hard work rarely beats raw talent—we’ve established that." The dangerous glint that entered his eyes was quiet and absolute. "As for me, I’ll be taking my revenge on weaker foes."
He turned to his most loyal retainer. "Cassian, take command. Ciao."
Whoosh.
Eve settled lackadaisically at his hip. Then he moved—a blur of motion that kicked up a spray of crystalline dust—and dashed away from camp, the wind rushing past his ears, a manic energy rising steadily to replace the numb shock.
Time to feel the thrill of dunking on weaker foes.
Hahahaha!
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...
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The boys moved at a leisurely pace through a canyon of glowing amber stone, their footsteps ringing softly off the walls. Kai swaggered slightly ahead, still buzzing with residual glee.
"Don’t you think they’ll retaliate when we get outside?" Jude asked, his voice even.
Kai’s buzzing stalled. He glanced at Zeke.
"I don’t know," Zeke said, kicking a pebble that chimed like a small bell as it skittered across the stone. "They won’t go into full attack mode, but they’ll need to save face—preserve their pride. How exactly they do that, I couldn’t tell you." The fabric of his trench coat rustled as he shrugged. "Best case? A little business bullying until they get bored. They’re an SSS-rank power. They have an image to protect beyond simple vengeance."
"Don’t worry, Kai." Zeke smirked, reaching out to ruffle the younger boy’s hair. "They wouldn’t touch your parents. But your family should probably put some distance between themselves and the guild for a while."
"Tsk." Kai pushed his hand off with a scowl.
"Same goes for both of you," Zeke added, his gaze moving to Jude and Aaron. "Keep your families close for now."
He paused. When he spoke again his tone was light, but his metallic grey eyes had taken on a cold, distant focus. "Though if they so much as disturb a fly in your residences, I’ll reduce the number of continents in the world." A wide, unsettling smile spread across his face.
"With what strength?" Aaron scoffed—though he shifted his weight slightly, an unconscious acknowledgment of something in Zeke’s words.
"We’re better off playing hide and seek with them than banking on you," Jude said flatly.
Kai nodded. Jude nodded.
"Your confidence in me is abysmal," Zeke sighed, the picture of wounded dignity.
Then his tone shifted—the playful edge gone, replaced by something quiet and absolute. "If they come after you, I need a month. One month, to wipe them off the face of the Earth."
{A week at most, actually,} Zero murmured, a digital whisper laced with chilling certainty.
"Oh—make it a week." Zeke’s smile returned as though he’d just revised a dinner reservation.
The trio exchanged a long, silent look. Eyebrows rose and fell. Shoulders made small, noncommittal movements. Jude, apparently having reached some private conclusion, simply shrugged and walked forward to fall into step beside Zeke.
"Even if you wiped out a continent, they’d just install new management," Jude said. "The tower still stands."
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...
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"I’m tired of walking," Zeke announced, dragging his feet with theatrical misery. "It’s too slow. My legs are bored."
"There’s no other choice. Stop disturbing the peace," Kai grumbled, giving him a half-hearted shove forward.
"What if there is?" Zeke turned to face them, a familiar mischievous grin splitting his face.
"Oh, are we flying?" Aaron said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"No. Meet baby number six—ideal for terrain like this." A flash of blue light from his inventory, and a hulking six-wheeled mana-powered truck materialized before them: reinforced plasteel, glowing runic circuits along the chassis, a gift quietly received from SAGE months ago and entirely forgotten until now.
"What?!" The trio exclaimed in unison, jaws collectively slack.
"Hehe. Say hello to Truck-kun."
"You had this since day one," Kai said, his voice climbing an octave as his gaze moved between Zeke and the vehicle in disbelief, "and you let us walk?"
"It’s a memory that didn’t surface until I needed it." Zeke tapped his temple.
"I’m driving," Jude proclaimed, already striding toward the driver’s side with complete conviction.
"Here." Zeke tossed him the keys—a sleek fob that shimmered in the ambient light. "I don’t even have a license."
"Irrelevant in a dungeon," Jude stated, catching them without a trace of shame and hauling open the heavily armored door.
"True. Though someone made quite the fuss about licenses earlier," Zeke sing-songed, with a pointed look at Jude.
"Different case," Jude said, face impassive, as he pulled himself up into the elevated cabin. The leather seat sighed beneath him.
Vroom.
He turned the engine over. A deep, resonant thrum of condensed mana vibrated up through the chassis and into the ground beneath their feet.
"Get in," he said, leaning out the window. "Let’s cause some chaos."
"Hehe! Steal-Wheels mode activated!" Kai crowed, scrambling for the passenger side.
{ROB just hired an intern. Isekai incoming.}
