Weapons of Mass Destruction

Chapter 565: A Matter of Control

Derick shakes his head and says, “We can assume there will be more tournaments if the system continues to follow the current schedule. It would be wise to wait until some of us have gotten a bit closer to level 400 to start making promises and laying out our rules for our return to Earth. The damage we can cause without even actively using skills is far too great to ignore. Even if you aren’t a mana-based build, just releasing your mana could easily hurt or even kill a normal human.”

Victoria listens, then leans forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. “That depends on whether we actually agree on what the limits should be. Or if we decide we want them in the first place.”

Jean scoffs, “Now you sound like some kind of greasy politician.”

”I am being realistic,” she replies. “You cannot expect groups of people thrown into the Hell tutorial, and forced to fight for five years, just to stay alive, to come back and simply follow a set of self-imposed rules because it would be nice.” Her gaze sweeps across the table. “Whether we agree then or here and now, how many actually mean to honor it once they make their way back to Earth and realize how much weaker everyone is?”

Klara hums, “That’s why nuclear treaties worked. It was mutually assured destruction. If one country used them, others would retaliate. The threat and possible consequences are what kept everyone in check.”

“But we’re not nations,” the Chinese tournament winner, Yama, interjects. “No government can force us to disarm. Not the ones who survive the Hell difficulty tutorial, and certainly not the ones from Beyond. No military can keep us in check - at most, they get lucky and kill some of the more careless ones. Even if we wanted a treaty, who would enforce it?”

Derick exhales through his nose. “That’s exactly the problem. There’s no higher authority keeping us in line. If someone decides to wipe out a city because they got pissed off, who can stop them quickly enough to matter?”

“The Absolute,” Yama speaks again, her voice composed as ever. “Or our first Champions, at least. The countries that get one first will be the ones to decide the direction our world takes. Of course, only if such people decide to uphold their nationalities and help their countries. If you don’t seize control or make an effort to cooperate with those who have, then the control will be imposed on you by force. That’s what history has proven over and over again.”

The conversation is getting interesting, so I make sure to listen carefully. While she is saying that, her words seem inconsistent given that she is standing while someone much weaker than she sits in her chair.

At the same time, I get the feeling that she would do exactly as she said—imposing her will on us to control us if we proved ourselves the weaker.

“Thatʼs a nice way to describe ʼtyrannyʼ,” Jean says as he leans forward in his creaking chair.

”A form of tyranny that ensures our survival. If you’re not the one enforcing it, you risk having it imposed on you,” she counters.

“This is all theoretical,” Victoria says. “None of us knows exactly what kind of power levels we will be dealing with. Not to mention how many of us will walk out of here capable of, say, vaporizing entire cities by accident?”

Derick grimaces. “More than a few, Iʼd say. By the end of the tutorial? Could be dozens.”

“It’s not just about a few assholes. Even some of the so-called good people are dangerous. Some will be walking nuclear bombs, and unlike the current models, we don’t need silos or launch codes.” As she speaks, something about Klara’s tone sounds almost amused.

For a moment, the table falls silent.

Then, Hector exhales and grins. “Regulations, restrictions... I don’t like the sound of that at all.”

His words also seem like a subtle threat. He doesnʼt seem like the kind of guy who would like being oppressed.

Jean tilts his head. “So what are you all suggesting? Some kind of mutually assured destruction pact? ‘Break the rules, and everyone hunts you down?’ That sounds fun.”

Klara chuckles. “I’d rather not see Earth change too much. Things arenʼt perfect, but with what we have, we can still get a big piece of the pie and live more than comfortably. Going around fucking with countries, blowing up cities, that’d just turn everything into a mess and mess everything up. I’d rather keep my luxuries than have some asshole wreck everything and drag me into a war. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not looking to inherit my country’s bullshit or let them turn me into a pawn for their power grabs.”

Baek lifts his head from the table and yawns, “Just donʼt come to Korea and Iʼm all good.”

“Are we splitting kingdoms now?” Jean snorts. “Each of us gets our territory, and the others agree not to interfere? Though I could see myself in charge of Canada.”

“There is a lot of good we could do,” Derick says, “with our power, we will have a lot of influence, we could easily use our abilities to get the things we want, or use our healers to win favors.”

Yama looks at him in an amused manner, “That kind of thinking is incredibly naive. None of us has experience when it comes to politics or understanding the balance of power, trade, and geopolitics. And do you think you will be able to control all of the people from your round? The people from Hell and Beyond? What about the people from Easy and the other difficulties who return there before you?”

“She’s right,” Klara says. “I’ve already seen and heard plenty of people from my group planning some wild shit. And if a few strong Beyonders team up, they might still be able to take you down, ‘King’ or not.”

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“And what stops us from grouping up as well?” Derick asks.

“I donʼt want to,” Jean smiles at him.

Looking around the table, the Chinese King, Baek, the Russian boy, and Vic donʼt seem all that interested either.

Derick groans in annoyance and leans back in his chair.

“It’s perfectly simple,” I say when no one else is talking and they turn to me, “if you make yourself strong enough, they will listen, or they will be very dead.”

They still remain silent, so I stand up. “Thirty minutes and two seconds have passed. See you during the second event.”

I wave them off, and when Vic stands as well, she places her hand in mine, and I teleport us away.

The fancy scent diffuser someone put so much effort into vanishes too, all thanks to the [Ley Line] I quietly hooked to it.

The quiet hum of the workshop feels almost too still now that I’ve stopped. Half-finished projects sit untouched, tools lie scattered where I last dropped them, and the lingering heat from my skills fills the room.

I lean back, staring at the ceiling for a moment, letting my mind wander. Maybe there’s still time to squeeze in a little more training, just a few more minutes to refine things, but I already know that’s a lie.

With an annoyed sigh, I push myself up and start putting the last of my things away.

As the time ticks down to the start of the second event, I let out an annoyed groan and put an end to all my training, and put the last items away.

For a minute, I sit there and think, looking for excuses.

When I find none, I teleport through one of the Ley Lines I’ve stretched out into the first roundʼs zone.

Locating Jeanʼs signature, I make sure he’s alone and send another line his way, carefully avoiding the defenses these guys have set up around their zone.

After teleporting, I find myself in the middle of a clearing where Jean sits and trains. Even though he is not visibly moving, his muscles seem to twitch and spasm. His skin stretches and tears under the strain, and I could just about swear I heard the snapping of bone.

He doesnʼt even notice me until I step within his quick strike range. At that point opens his eyes and tilts his head.

“The fuck do you want?” he asks.

In that moment, I almost change my mind, but I force myself to stay and sit on the grass right in front of him with my legs crossed beneath me.

I jump in before I can change my mind. “I broke my word. Well, technically not broke—more like I ignored it. Actually, it’s not even my fault. A lot of things have been happening, and you can be annoying as fuck. I don’t know, blame the system or something.”

He laughs out loud with a confused expression, but doesnʼt say anything.

What an asshole. I bet he is doing it on purpose just to make this harder on me. I canʼt even be mad; I would totally do the same thing. That probably says something about me, but thatʼs a thought for later.

“Simply said, I rejected your challenge when you came to our area and later during the event, even though I promised I would face you anytime.”

“Thatʼs true,” Jean stops training. “So, given that that’s the case, I have to wonder if I should keep my own promise?”

“You have every right to do so.”

“You are really bad at this.”

“Yes.”

Jean laughs, moves closer, and looks at me with curiosity, “Tell me what happened. Your group is missing that blonde of yours, and there are so many rumors making me curious.”

“I donʼt want to.”

“If you do, I wonʼt hold your rejection against you, just this once.”

For a while, I just stare at him while he returns my gaze, his smile growing ever bigger.

Asshole.

I would totally do the same.

“She has a mimic inside her, but I’ve been offered a way to save her. To do so, I have to do something I can’t really tell you about, given the way it might influence the outcome. So long story short, Iʼm busy and not exactly in a good mood at the moment.”

“I see. I have noticed. But enough of that, how many times have you died during our conversation?”

“Huh? Twice.”

“I died thrice,” Jean smirks victoriously.

“How many times since the start of the tournament?” I ask.

“I donʼt know. Likely multiple dozens of times. I stopped counting.”

That surprises me. From what he says, he seems to be handling it pretty well, better than anyone from group 4, other than me.

He lifts his arms over his head and stretches with a long yawn, “Tell me a story about that girl. The first thing that comes to your mind. Donʼt ask why. ”

Surprised once again, I think for a second before I start talking, “We were both younger back then, on Earth, and met for the first time just a few days before. Back then, she didnʼt really know how to ‘officially’ make friends. She had never made friends before and didn’t know how it worked, so she tried to force it with logic.”

That memory flashes before my eyes, “One day, she just handed me a list. A handwritten list of reasons why we should be friends. It had bullet points. Some of them were ridiculously formal, things like ”Good compatibility score” and ”Both have high intelligence, subjectively speaking”. I kept that paper.”

Jean laughs out loud for a while, shaking his head, then stands up and gestures for me to do the same.

Reaching out with his huge hands, he claps them over my shoulders, almost crushing them in the process, a few times, “You arenʼt such a bad guy after all. Letʼs just say I canʼt kill that mind mage of yours here, so challenging you to get to her wouldnʼt make sense, right? No promises have been broken this time. Got it?”

“I do.” I think about it for a moment and add, ”Thanks.”