Chapter 565 - A Matter of Control

Derick shakes his head and says, “We can assume there will be more tournaments if the system will follow the current schedule. In the future, when some of us will likely be close to level 400, it would be reasonable to make certain promises then or agree on a set of rules for after the end of the tutorial. 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 and release your mana, it should still be able to 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 even want them in the first place.”

Jean scoffs, “You sound like some politician.”

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

Klara hums, “That’s why nuclear treaties worked. It wasn’t just words; it was mutual deterrence. 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 Beyond. No military can keep us in check - at most, they can get lucky and kill some 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 stops them quickly enough?”

“The Absolute,” Yama speaks again, her voice composed as ever. “Or our first Champions, at least. The country that gets one first will be the one to decide the direction our world takes. Of course only If such people decide to uphold their nationalities and help their countries. If it isn’t you who controls others or cooperates with them, 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 weaker.

“That's a nice way to say 'tyranny',” Jean says as he leans in his creaking chair.

"A tyranny that ensures 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’ll be dealing with. How many will walk out of here capable of, say, vaporizing a big city by accident?”

Derick grimaces. “More than a few, I'd say. By the end of the tutorial? Could be a dozen or multiple dozens.”

“It’s not just about a few assholes. Even so-called good people are dangerous. Some will be walking nuclear bombs, and unlike real ones, we don’t need silos or launch codes.” There’s something almost amused in Klara’s tone.

For a moment, the table falls silent.

Then, Hector exhales and grins. “Regulations, restrictions... I don’t like those at all.”

His words also seem like a subtle threat. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would like someone suppressing him.

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 aren't perfect, but with what we have we can 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 screw it all up. I’d rather keep my luxuries than have some asshole wreck everything and get dragged 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 don't come to Korea and I'm all good.”

“So now we are splitting kingdoms?” Jean snorts. “Each of us will get territory that the others won't mess with? 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 and could use our abilities to get the things we want or use our healers to gain big favors.”

Yama looks at him in an amused manner, “Such 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? People from Hell or Beyond? Or people from Easy and 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 wild shit. And if a few strong Beyonders team up, they might be able to take you down, ‘King’ or not.”

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

“I don't want to,” Jean smiles at him.

Looking around the table, the Chinese King, Baek, the Russian boy, and Vic also don't seem to be too interested.

Derick groans in annoyance and leans back in his chair.

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

They still remain silent, so I stand up. “Thirty minutes 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 dispenser 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 left where I last dropped them, and the lingering heat filling 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, with an annoyed groan I stop 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 have stretched into the first round's zone.

Locating Jean's 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 I teleport, I find myself in the middle of a clearing where Jean sits and trains. Even though he is not visibly moving, his muscles twitch and spasm. His skin stretches and tears under the strain, and I could swear I heard some bone snapping.

He doesn't even notice me until I step within his quick strike range. He then opens his eyes and tilts his head.

“The fuck do you want here?” he asks.

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

I jump in before I can change my mind. “I broke the promise I gave you. Well, technically not broke—more like I ignored it. Actually, it’s not even my fault. A lot of things happened, 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 doesn't say anything.

What an asshole. I bet he is doing it on purpose to make it harder on me. I can't even be mad; I would totally do the same shit. It probably says something about me, but that's 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.”

“That's true,” Jean stops training. “So I wonder, should I keep the promise I made in such a case?”

“You have every right to go back on it as well.”

“You are really bad at all of this.”

“Yes.”

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

“I don't want to.”

“If you do, I won't consider your rejecting my challenge as breaking the promise, just this time.”

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 there is a way to save her. To do so, I have to do something I cannot tell you about, as it might influence the outcome. So it could be said I'm busy and not exactly in a good mood most of the time.”

“I see. I have noticed. But enough of that, how many times have you died since we talked?”

“Huh? Twice.”

“I died thrice,” Jean smirks victoriously.

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

“I don't know. Likely multiple dozens of times. I stopped counting.”

That surprises me. From what he says he seems to handle it very 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 one story about that girl. The first thing that comes to your mind. Don't 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 didn't 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, 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.

With his huge hand, he smashes my shoulders a few times, “You aren't that bad a guy. Let's say I can't kill that mind mage of yours here, so challenging you to get to her wouldn't make sense, right? No promise was broken this time. Got it?”

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

***

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