237. Vici - Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

Bren, a Level 1 citizen making a living by moving cargo at the Central Terminal, had a secret that he couldn't tell anyone. He was a member of the Resistance. The Military State was harsh to failures… or rather, it didn’t care. Citizens, once registered, were left to wander, with their lives reduced to a never-ending cycle of labor until death. Bren, who lacked the intelligence to even attend middle school, had a future so predictable that even he could foresee it. Before him lay the cog-like existence of a wheel. Like the cog he was, Bren rolled through life without a shred of doubt. Yet, humans possess free will, allowing them to even believe that such will is a mere illusion. Yesterday's monotonous routine repeated on into tomorrow, a hypothesis inductively proven by Bren's daily life thus far. Yesterday was dull and devoid of any true joy, hence tomorrow seemed bound to be the same. Bren trudged through his days feeling a lethargy deeper than despair. However, change eventually found its way into his life. The catalyst was an strange visitor. A young man came with a bottle of beer and struck up numerous conversations with him. The visitor's cheerful demeanor gradually brightened Bren's mood. Even when the youth foolishly began to criticize the Military State, Bren only chuckled and played along. From that day onward, Bren joined the Resistance. The reasoning followed later. After joining the Resistance, his life became thrilling. Imagining the noble directives that might come his way and the prospect of executing them gallantly filled him with excitement. Coupled with the right amount of tension of wondering if the public security force might come knocking, Bren felt a sense of purpose. At least, tomorrow would not be like yesterday. With his affiliation with the Resistance, his life took a turn. Each day was fulfilling. Fulfilling indeed. Despite not being exceedingly meticulous or careful, Bren managed to live as a Resistance member without ever being caught by the military surveillance network. The reason was simple. No orders had been issued yet. Ironically, his overzealous work ethic to avoid suspicion had even earned him a positive evaluation from his supervisor... though nothing truly changed as a result. Nevertheless, he had no doubt that when the moment called for a grand decision, he would side with the Resistance. He had lived his life thus far for that very day. And as he worked energetically today, a young laborer approached from the other side. The youth, with a slightly somber demeanor, placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered. "Mr. Bren. There's a directive." The day finally came. Bren nodded heavily. *** The briefing was short, concise, and pressed for time. The target was the Command Centre. It would begin shortly after arrival at the Central Terminal. The Regressor calmly explained to the gathered group. "The path to the Command Centre is lined with checkpoints and stationed troops. The checks are thorough. From here, sneaking in is impossible." A forceful breakthrough was the method proposed by the Regressor, simple and straightforward. "First, we'll make it look like a Resistance raid. At the Central Terminal, I'll take down the Major General and other high-ranking officials. Everyone else will go to the Command centre. I'll quickly sort things out and follow you there…" The Central Terminal is directly connected to the Command Centre and is the largest Terminal in the meta-conveyor system. It's a facility of utmost importance, guarded by a General and ready to dispatch elite troops from three nearby units in emergencies. The Regressor’s plan to instantly subdue such a place seemed utterly unrealistic. However, the Regressor's power was nearly omnipotent. Though She hadn't reached the Axiom, her diverse methods, wielded with near-maximum capability, were unmatched. "Can you do it?" "Leave it to me." The consequences wrought by the determined Regressor… was beyond imagination. "Emergency! Emergency! It's an enemy raid!" "Everyone, run awaaaaaaaay!" As they opened a container, a burst of white smoke erupted from within. It was a cloud created by the Regressor. With storms and winds creating thunderclouds, the essence of the Chun-aeng could compress space, accommodating clouds and winds only present in the sky. The Regressor had emptied a container and spent hours storing power inside it, then released it all in one go. A localized cumulonimbus cloud loomed over the Central Terminal. Unlike an ordinary thundercloud, this one piled up like a tower right above the ground. Only the Regressor with the seven-colored eyes walked confidently through the dense fog. In an instant, the command system was paralyzed. “Whoa, whoa! It's the Resistance! The Resistance is attacking!” “Everyone run! We're going to get killed!” “It's dangerous! They'll suck your blood and turn you into a vampire!” Amongst the panicked laborers, the Resistance stirred further chaos. Soldiers and overseers scrambled to respond, leading to unparalleled chaos. If only the sound could be heard clearly, they were at the Terminal. The massive cranes and numerous laborers each produced their own noises. Sounds didn’t travel more than ten steps before getting swallowed by the fog. "Oh no! Bring the Major General!" The most diligent and skilled soldiers swiftly sought their superiors to quell the chaos. The Major General of the Central Terminal was a Major General, whose presence Fostered hope that he could organize the situation and lead everyone. A General was acknowledged by the military for their combat sustainability. A General, standing above all, must not fall easily. They must survive to the end to lead their soldiers. Thus, all Generals mastered the art of Qi manipulation, strengthening their bodies and maintaining unwavering composure. True machines of war. The soldiers rushed to the Major General, intent on requesting him to direct the chaos-stricken group. "Sir! Lead us…!" However, by the time they arrived at the General’s office, they found the Major General already unconscious beneath the Regressor's feet. Catching his breath after a fierce battle, the Regressor waved a hand at the unfamiliar visitors. "Hi." "Who, who are you…! Ugh!" This was the moment. Hidden behind the door, I swung a club and struck the back of his head. Sergeant Ketern, a senior supply officer, collapsed without putting up much resistance. I set down the blood-smeared club, trembling. "Ugh, I'm not even a combatant, so why am I doing this kind of work?" "For a non-combatant, you fight pretty well." "That's because I picked off the weakest and struck from behind! Why was I specifically chosen for this? There are people more used to fighting than me!" The Regressor spoke as if it were the most obvious thing. "During the day, it's better to conserve Tyrkanzyaka’s power. The King of Dogs or the King of Cats will not move according to plan. So you're the best fit, right?" "Best fit? This is way too dangerous for a petty criminal like me!" "...I don't know what you're hiding, but let's say you're ordinary. Anything unusual?" "Oh, right. I saw a safe on my way here earlier. We probably don't have time to rob it, right?" "Lead the way. We'll just stuff it into the pocket." Even in the midst of things, the Regressor meticulously completed the looting. The safe, made with Level 5 alchemical steel, fit entirely into the Regressor's space storage, the Pocket. That Pocket is a real cheat item, perhaps even more so than the Chun-aeng or Jizan. ｢…Familiar with fighting. Though I haven't seen much of his power, fighting together feels oddly comfortable. He's inconspicuous, thorough, adept at exploiting enemy weaknesses. I'll use him often in the future.｣ ‘Don't use me! Please save me! Think of me like a fragile creature that dies from a single touch!’ Having roughly wrapped things up, the Regressor and I stepped outside the Terminal office. While the outside remained chaotic, there was a hint of organized movement. A group of Resistance fighters were seizing the opportunity to escape the chaos at the Terminal. Among them was a noticeable youth. Though he appeared as a laborer, his demeanor carried a certain officer-like confidence as he naturally surveyed the surroundings. I realized who he was. Chento, the one who could read the winds well. A survivor of Hamelin. Amongst the many children, he was one of the few who fought with stubborn determination to survive the river's depths. He was now a key member within the Resistance. Charged with the crucial task of establishing both direct and indirect inside connections, forming numerous internal allies. Once a dreamer of becoming an officer, now turned Resistance evangelist. Whether it’s a rise or fall, I couldn't quite decide. Leading the non-combatant Resistance members, he joined up with pre-selected collaborators at the Terminal and boarded the Meta conveyor belt. The North would soon be engulfed in war, the only way for the Resistance to escape from their base in a short time was through the meta conveyor belt. Though they flee, the State can't afford to chase them down. They simply do not have the capacity to care about them. The Regressor, having sensed another presence, remarked. "They're coming. Troops from the nearby unit." "Alrighty, let's retreat too! As we head south towards the Command Center, they’ll come after us!" "Just retreat? Seems a waste." The Regressor drew both Chun-aeng and Jizan together, crossing the two blades. As if honing a blunt edge, the Regressor smoothly ran the blade of the Chun-aeng along Jizan’s surface. This unique interaction between the two blades caused a special friction. Typically, when blades grind against each other, they create sparks as the metal shatters. But when the Chun-aeng clashes with the earthly blade? I wouldn't know. It’s my first time seeing celestial and earthly blades. Yet, I have learned what happens when sky and earth collide. The roar of the heavenly god. A thunderbolt. Crackling! From the ends of both swords, an enormous surge of lightning burst forth. Even from this distance, my entire body tingled. A bright yellow crack formed in the air, with lightning pouring out like a turned-on faucet. The lightning seeped into the fog that filled the surroundings. The clouds summoned over the ground by the Regressor grew darker and ominously rumbled. Lightning strikes from clear skies do happen, but complete lightning requires the ground. Clutching the crackling lightning in her hand, the Regressor muttered, intoxicated with omnipotence. "Heaven and Earth's Sword Dance. Lightning Sweep." "You're actually naming your finishing move out loud. If you explained the attributes and attack type, wouldn’t they just dodge it all?" "Sh-shut up! It’s less effective against those with good instincts because it’s not very powerful, and the movements are large!" "Ah, so it’s a technique that's weak against the strong and strong against the weak." "It’s an area attack technique!" Regardless of appearances, the Regressor’s swordplay was magic-enhanced fencing, utilizing enchanted blades. As the Regressor fervently pulled at Jizan, dozens of lightning strands struck like giant hands, sweeping across the ground. “Argh!” “Ugh…” The earth itself was overturned, and soldiers in the vicinity fell, trembling. The State now faced the dual task of confronting their foes while addressing the casualties incurred. Amid the rolling clouds and flickering lightning, men lay electrocuted within the devastation that was too colossal to believe one mere human had caused. “...I’m not sure if Shei is amazing or if the Terminal was just nothing special. It’d be nice if the Command Centre were this easy.” “Just watch out for the Sixth Star Generals. Quite a few of them are out, so there shouldn't make a difference.” “Well, it’s your fight, Shei! if you just your Strong against the weak techniques, you'll surely defeat anyone weaker than you! Go, go!” “I said it’s an area attack technique! you’re the one who should start fighting properly! How long are you going to keep slacking around?!” I'm already giving it my all. Sharpen your eyes to see it! Scanning the area, it seemed only soldiers and convulsing injured were left at the Terminal. Most of the laborers had fled, and the Resistance appeared to have taken the meta conveyor belt and left. Facing scarcity even in finding opponents, a legion approached from the distance, intending to support the Terminal. A war unit, fully equipped for battle. "Alright, now it’s time to really retreat. If we waste our enegy by getting carried away, it'll be troublesome." "You’re aware you’ve been excited, but also aware it's a waste? Realizing it while doing it, that’s already a blunder!" "Enough with the chattering! Just grab my hand! If the magic corps intercepts us, it’ll get annoying, so we’re going to fly away at full speed before that!" "Wait a minute. Why do I need to hold your hand to fly? Don’t tell me, no way! I’m going to hang on to Shei's hand while flyinggggg!" And of all things, it has to be with one hand! I can't even hang on the pull-up bar with one hand! Swaying back and forth while gripping the Regressor's hand, I broke my personal record for one-handed hanging.