Chương 79: Book 2 Chapter 1 - Snake

Five years before Gray's induction into the Natural Selection… The Glory's church mirrored classic cathedral architecture. Weathered gray stone formed its massive walls, rough and chipped by time. Twin bell towers reached high above, their narrow spires piercing the overcast clouds, and stained glass lined the arched windows, while wide stone steps led to a pair of large wooden doors. The interior, however, stripped away all expected reverence. There was no altar, and there were no pews for silent prayer.

Instead, the main hall functioned as a sterile, high-capacity medical bay. A sleek reception desk anchored the center of the vast room, stationed directly in front of a massive stone pillar that supported the ceiling. Fifty private operation rooms, built like cubicles, lined the perimeter. Everything about the design leaned heavily toward efficiency—existing to house and treat as many patients as humanly possible. Below ground, the reality grew darker.

The basement held critical patients, trapped on an endless waiting list. Rows of cryogenic stasis pods hummed with a low, vibrating energy, keeping the dying in a deep, frozen sleep until it was their turn for treatment. As morbid as the underground vault felt, it was a harsh necessity. The process was the only thing keeping their failing bodies alive. Far above the frozen patients and the sterile lobby, the world's leaders met to dictate global affairs.

Mikael's office matched the practical nature of the hospital below. A broad wooden desk dominated the space, positioned so Mikael could sit with his back to a large, stained-glass window. Daylight shined through the glass, casting shadows across a simple leather couch and a set of cabinets. Mikael sat in his office chair. Seated across from him were Edward and Bastion, the other two Astarchs.

"I've devised a way to abolish the Natural Selection's forced slavery penalty," Edward said. He leaned forward, sliding a thick folder across the wood of Mikael's desk. Mikael didn't look up. Engrossed in a different report, he simply cast a brief, dismissive glance at Edward's packet and shook his head. He turned a page.

"I understand where your heart is, Edward. Sadly, it's out of my control."

"Out of your control?" Edward's voice rose in pitch.

"Are you saying the System holds more power than the ruler of this world?" Mikael sighed. He set his report down, folded his hands on the desk, and gave Edward his full attention. The room grew heavy with tension, saved only by the nonchalant hum of Bastion twiddling his mustache. Mikael raised a steady palm.

"Now, now. Calm yourself. I understand your altruism. It is exactly why you decided to join us. You want change." Mikael's eyes hardened.

"But you cannot twist this world into the utopian society you so desperately desire. There is a construct called balance. Without it, this entire operation comes crumbling down."

"Are you referring to Yoong's operation?" Edward asked, his voice dropping to a cold, hard edge.

"Yes, I am referring to him. His exploitation of the System's indentured servitude penalty has elevated the Gisaeng House to where it is now. They are now on par with The Forge. They might not have the same raw army count, but their wealth is staggering. If Yoong sold off his establishments—including The Ante—he could easily buy out The Forge's guild members. I simply don't have the political or financial power to subdue him." Edward's eyes narrowed into slits. How could a man who rules everything be so helpless?

"If you don't have the power, then who does? I'm certain Yoong has broken countless laws to reach his current position. Why can't the supposed dictator of this society bring him in for his crimes and dissolve the atrocity that is the Gisaeng House?" Mikael clicked his tongue and slowly shook his head.

"You are still too new here to understand how things truly operate. The old saying: cut off the snake's head and the body dies, does not apply here. When you chop off the head of a Guild, another simply grows in its place. That is how the Guild system functions. A Guild Master can appoint a Vice-Master to succeed them, and if the leader dies, all authority and assets automatically transfer to their second-in-command." He leaned back in his chair, grimacing.

"I may be the strongest Awakened alive, but I must still follow the damned System's rules. He built the foundation of this reality, after all."

"However," Mikael continued, his eyes locking onto Edward.

"We might not be able to sever the head, but we can hack away at the body." Mikael finally slid the file he had been reading across his desk. Edward pulled the folder closer and opened it. Clipped to the front page was a mugshot of a burly, buzz-cut man with a thick, jagged scar carved vertically across his left eye. The photo's bottom also had a stamped word, "WANTED," directly above a typed name: Lucius Draven. Edward scanned the summary text.

Lucius was trafficking participants of the Natural Selection who failed the race and were forced onto the auction block.

"Lucius Draven," Mikael said.

"Kim Yoong's right-hand man. While the tyrant king lives a legitimate, flashy life on the surface, Lucius handles the filth underground. He manages the buying and trading of the participants who fail to meet the threshold. Most of them suffer a brutal fate, with the vast majority eventually reported dead or missing." Mikael crossed his arms over his chest.

"We've been trying to apprehend him for months, but he always manages to slip through our fingers. If we eliminate Lucius, we sever Yoong's reliable illegal supply line temporarily. The failed participants will at least be auctioned into standard, regulated contracts instead of going toward the black-market. It would be the first proper step in undermining the System altogether." Mikael uncrossed his arms, his posture sagging slightly in defeat.

"Unfortunately, the trail is cold. We have no leads on where he might be hiding."

"Don't worry about that," Edward said, tapping his temple.

"Now that I have a clear portrait of his face ingrained in my memory, locating him with my scry ability will be much easier. With your permission, I'll have him behind bars tonight." Mikael offered an acknowledging hum.

"Permission granted. Just know one thing: this warrant isn't for his arrest. It is a kill-on-sight order. That is the kind of monster you are dealing with." He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on the desk.

"Will you require assistance? I can have one of the Forge Guard tag along."

"I can handle this myself," Edward replied, his tone absolute. He pushed himself out of his chair, turned on his heel, and strode out of the office. The door clicked shut. Bastion, who had spectated the entire exchange in silence, finally spoke.

"Do you really think this plan of yours will succeed?" Mikael shrugged, raising his hands in a casual gesture.

"So what if it fails? I'll simply find a different way to remove him." He scoffed, staring at the closed door.

"I extended an invitation to him purely because of his raw power. But it turns out he just wants to play the honorable king. He craves the love of the masses. Imagine if he uncovers the path to reaching sovereignty. At that stage, his abilities wouldn't be useless against us anymore. He could drive us out entirely." Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

"That is concerning, indeed," Bastion replied, his voice completely deadpan. He stared out the window, twiddling the ends of his thick mustache. Mikael rolled his eyes.

"You care more about that mustache than your own life!" The sun was sinking below the horizon, casting long shadows across the slums. As advanced as the rest of civilization had become, this forgotten corner of Quantis City remained a decaying wasteland. Edward's scry had pinged Lucius's exact location, leading him straight into the dregs. Garbage littered the cracked, unpaved roads. Rows of abandoned houses lined the streets, stripped to their bare bones by scavengers who had ripped out anything of use.

Lucius was hiding in the last house on the block. Sticking to the shadows, Edward navigated the narrow, foul-smelling alleyways until he reached his target. Like its neighbors, the brick building looked entirely abandoned. Faded graffiti covered the crumbling walls, and thick wooden planks were nailed roughly over the empty window frames. Before stepping foot near the property, Edward focused inward. He forcefully suppressed his aura flare, pulling his leaking energy tight against his core.

An average Awakened couldn't detect the passive aura leak. But to a fellow Kaiser, even a microscopic drop of stray energy would instantly expose their presence. Masking it completely was a difficult technique, mastered by only a fraction of the Kaisers of this world. Unfortunately, Lucius was part of that fraction. Edward couldn't sense a trace of the wanted man's energy in the air; he only knew Lucius was inside the building because of his scry. Edward circled from the back of the property to the front porch.

The wooden floorboards groaned softly under his oxfords, but he carefully shifted his weight to muffle the sound. He pressed his face against the haphazard boarded-up window, squinting through a narrow gap in the planks. The scene on the other side of the window made Edward reel back in sheer disgust. Inside the dim living room, three young teenagers huddled together on the rotting floorboards, flush against a far corner.

Their clothes were little more than rags, hanging off their thin frames in tatters, and matted hair fell over their faces smeared dark with soot and grime. A single lantern sat on the floor, casting a flickering yellow glow over the space. The children were furiously scarfing down thick loaves of bread, chewing as if they hadn't eaten in weeks. Straddling a wooden chair in front of them, leaning over the backrest, was a burly man with a buzz-cut. He sat facing the children, his broad back to the window.

Even without seeing his face, Edward's instincts screamed at him. He knew exactly who it was. Rage flared hot in Edward's chest, but he forced it down, letting his calculating mind take over. He didn't hesitate to seize control. Instruct these children to stay inside. Edward projected his will into the man's mind. Then leave the house and meet me outside. The man's slouched body snapped to attention. He shot up from the chair with an unnatural, jerky stiffness.

As he turned his head, the lantern light caught his eyes—the pupils had rolled entirely back into his skull, leaving only the empty whites.

"Kids, could you stay here while I go outside to meet somebody real quick?" the man asked, his voice robotic. One of the teenagers paused, lowering a half-eaten chunk of bread.

"Okay, mister!" Like a puppet on invisible strings, the heavily built man marched rigidly out the front door and stepped onto the sidewalk to face Edward. As the moonlight hit him, there was no mistaking the jagged scar across his eye. It was the exact face from the wanted poster: Lucius Draven.

"Lucius, you disgusting rat," Edward sneered, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"To think you were involved in the business of not just trafficking but children as well?! A simple death isn't nearly enough for you." Edward pulled a short sword from his dimensional ring. He tossed it onto the concrete at Lucius's feet.

"Pick it up," Edward commanded aloud." Stab yourself r epeatedly. Avoid all vital organs until you bleed to death." Lucius bent over in a disjointed, robotic motion. He wrapped his thick fingers around the hilt and began to fulfill the grim directive. First, he drove the blade into his left forearm, pulling it out with a wet tearing sound. Blood instantly spilled down his wrist. He moved to his legs, hunching over to slice deep into his own thighs. His calves were next.

Without a single cry of pain, Lucius thrust the steel into his leg muscle; the sheer physical damage finally causing his knees to buckle. He crashed to the ground. The self-mutilation continued up his torso. Lucius repeatedly punctured his own chest, burying the blade just shallow enough to miss his core. Edward stood motionless, watching the horrific display with cold, indifferent eyes. He felt no pity. When the blood loss finally slowed Lucius's robotic movements, Edward decided it was time to end the spectacle.

"Execute yourself." Lucius flinched. For a fraction of a second, the whites of his eyes twitched as if his subconscious were screaming to break free. But the Psion's grip was absolute. Lucius extended both arms wide, flipping the dagger so the blade pointed directly at the center of his chest. He slammed his hands inward. The short sword impaled him, burying deep into his core. There was no gasp, no final struggle. Lucius simply toppled sideways, hitting the ground with a lifeless thud.

You have slain Lucius Draven. Edward stared down at the corpse, his lip curling in revulsion. Knowing the children were just on the other side of the wall, he didn't want them stumbling out to find this gruesome sight. With a quick wave of his hand, Edward stored the bloody remains in his dimensional ring, leaving nothing behind but a crimson stain on the concrete. Edward stepped into the abandoned home, eager to tell the children they were safe. But as he scanned the dim living room, the space was entirely empty.

The half-eaten bread remained on the floor, but the teenagers were nowhere in sight. He quickly scoured the ground floor, checking the rusted bathroom and throwing open the hallway closets. Nothing. Then he reached the kitchen. A chilly night breeze swept through the room, rattling a set of rusty hinges. The back door hung wide open, swaying gently in the wind. He dashed outside, plunging into the network of back alleys that snaked behind the ruined houses.

He ran for ten solid minutes, his eyes straining through the gloom, but the kids were simply gone. They must have capitalized on the opportunity and bolted the moment Lucius stepped outside. Edward came to a halt. Chasing them blindly through the slums in the dead of night was useless. He decided it was best to call it a day. He would wait and use his scrying ability to track the children the next morning once it was off cooldown.

Early the next morning, sunlight streamed through the tinted window of Mikael's office. The Bishop sat at his desk, signing off on a stack of paperwork. A rhythmic knock broke the quiet of the room at the door.

"Come in," Mikael called out. Edward strode into the chamber.

"I've done what you wanted. Lucius is taken care of." Mikael's pen froze on the paper. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes locking onto Edward.

"And how can I be sure of that?" A pulse of white energy erupted from Edward's dimensional ring, arcing through the air before expanding across the floorboards. When the bright light faded, Lucius's lifeless, bloodied body lay sprawled on the ground. Mikael stood, leaning over his desk to narrow his eyes at the corpse.

"I've destroyed the body of the snake," Edward stated, stepping closer.

"Now, give me the authorization to eliminate the head so we can see this through to the end." Mikael offered a slow, measured nod. He stepped out from behind the desk and closed the distance between them.

"This was a great step forward in the right direction, Edward. You did well," Mikael said, his tone perfectly even.

"Unfortunately, a slight issue has arisen."

"An issue?" Edward arched a brow, turning his head to face the man now standing right beside him.

"This world is no place to allow snakes to roam free. We must swiftly take care of them before they bare their fangs," Mikael murmured, reaching out to clasp a reassuring hand onto Edward's shoulder.

"I agree completely," Edward said, confused by the sudden tension in the air.

"Unless, of course, a snake handler exists to tame them." Before Edward could process the words, a pair of nullstone cuffs warped into reality from Mikael's ring. Cold metal snapped onto Edward's right forearm before wrenching the arm back to clasp onto the other.

"What is the meaning of this—" Edward gasped, struggling against the restraints. Mikael didn't answer. Instead, he extended his free hand. Ribbons of light energy erupted from his palm, acting like chains. They whipped through the air, wrapping tight around Edward's thighs. With a sharp downward tug of Mikael's wrist, the energy shackles forced Edward violently to his knees.

"You—" Edward shouted, glaring up at the Bishop.

"Sleep," Mikael commanded. Edward's eyelids fluttered closed, all resistance vanished from his body, and his head slumped forward.