CHAPTER 1
God grants grace to those that are good, Devil denounce the Damned to their doom. For the two to be separate, then the Devil is contradictive. For the two to be the same entity, then God is a hypocrite.
QPCS, which stood for Queen Pigmalion’s Combat School, had a pretty high standing in the rankings. They managed to pump out not one, not two, but ZERO Promethium class Inquisitors.
Got you goin for a second there. Yeah, it’s not so easy to become one of those.
Still, 27 graduates in the past millennia became Gorgonium class. It’s hard to describe how impressive this achievement is, so I won’t. You’ll learn of it later.
What’s even more outstanding than the students, are the teachers here, and I’m not being biased.
In the assembly hall, a hundred-plus teachers and other members of staff gathered before the stadium where the principal explained, in a solemn tone, the gravity of the situation the school’s in. Someone dangerous will be entering the school. We’re on a need-to-know basis. Everyone must obey him no matter the consequences, and that the safety of their lives depend on their ability to follow his orders. Simply put, there’s no backing out for them.
After that lovely introduction, it was my turn to step onto the stage. Of course, I had to support the principal’s statements, and I did my very best.
“Hello Everyone. I’m grateful to see all of you gathered here despite your busy schedules. From the cleaners, to the chefs, to the mentors – Thank you.”
I did a bow perfected through millenniums of practice. Some of the faces down below felt comfortable enough to ease up.
“My name’s Aaron. I’m a weak student who got transferred here because of personal connections. I have bad grades, worse combat abilities, and a submissive temperament. I will be in your care starting tomorrow, the 17th of November.”
A few of the teachers had a consoling smile on them, whilst some others had a scornful sneer. They believed me so much, they seemed to have already forgotten about what the principal said.
“I would like things to stay that way. If any of you tries to fuck things over, I’ll skin you and your family alive, and force-feed them to your colleagues. I’ll heal you and I’ll fucking do it again, like a doner kebab with extra ketchup. No one will help you – no one can.”
The only smile left was on my face. Everyone else, after feeling a glimpse of my mana, finally got the message.
“And if I catch any of you quitting or snitching… I don’t have a good expression for what I’ll do, but it’ll make being skinned feel like a massage.”
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[You’re a psycho, I swear.] [1]
Ah, let me introduce you to these guys first. We’ve long since lost our original names, so we address each other by our identities.
Sunk Cost – he’s too good a person for his own wellbeing, and spends most of his time and OUR money helping people. He’s the one speaking right now. To sum his Powers up, he’s our mobility unit who can create portals to transport or stuff around.
Dead Weight - The average of all averages. The only thing he got going for him is his height, and he won’t stop bragging about it. Pretty insecure if you ask me. We chuck him into fights with his thick head, so we can escape. This guy dies a lot, so don’t worry about him.
Ego – A lazy ass failure who prefers mediocrity because it’s less effort. If you cremate him, his leftover ash would be classified as a schedule I drug, what with the cocktail of caffeine, alcohol and whatever else he’s addicted to. He’s our personal jukebox, currently using his Power to provide some background music. His music’s basically a cheat in battle.
Finally, me. The only normal one in this room. I am known as Zhang Chen, like the main character of the average wuxia novels, ascending to the high heavens. I swear, my name’s in a lot of those books. I’m the close-combat specialist, and the strongest out of us all. They only ever killed me a few times, and they got really lucky – I wouldn’t have died if I didn’t get my head ripped off.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
In reality, since we’ve all lived for so long, and changed our names countless times, the only thing we can identify ourselves are our nicknames. A lot of people assume that the older you are, the wiser or sage-like you get… bullshit. In the beginning, when you are in the learning stage, you open your mind up, but the more you learn, the more contradictive things get. Once you get past the ten thousand mark, if you haven’t focused onto a single mindset already, the only option left is insanity. To put it kindly, old people like us have found our path. To put it bluntly, we can’t be fucked to learn new tricks.
(You can almost hear his second voice narrating everything he sees and hears. Creepy cunt, play your card already.)
“Shut up, Ego, I’m the only normal person here.”
The game we’re playing’s poker, and I’m the best at it.
[You gotta learn to stop bluffing, you’re too easy to read, Hypocrite.]
“Fuck, how did you know? You’re cheating!”
[If I knew how to cheat at card games, I’d have gambled to riches instead of borrowing money.]
You’d think our meetings would be scarce, considering our position in the world, but we meet every month for a chat and a game. The purpose was to keep ourselves sane, or else we might just end up bringing ruin to one of the three Kingdoms again.
There is one other reason, and you’ll soon know of it.
Of course, nobody outside our circle would dare to use the nicknames I mentioned. To them, we’re Death, War, Famine and Pestilence, the four Horsemen from Revelation. Though, in hindsight, I’m still pretty sure we fucked up the order of the book’s content when we spread it all the way back then.
>Stop arguing, you midgets. Go back to the main point – surely, threatening all the staff would bring worse cooperation. With our power gap, it won’t be a problem. But to actually go through with your threats is a pain in the ass.<
“Worst case scenario, Sunk Cost can bring the innocents out and I’ll flatten the whole town in one go.”
[Don’t drag me into this.]
“I was just joking, come on. I wouldn’t kill innocent people. Even if they are in the wrong, I’m not actually gonna skin them.”
(Yeah, but the reason why you won’t do it is what’s troubling. Look, I know you’re the slowest at getting over your losses, but don’t let that affect your current opportunity. Stop acting tough and get your shit together.)
You know things are bad when the lazy one’s lecturing you, and you can’t talk back. I’ll be honest with you – I’m not in the best state of mind at the moment, so if I offend you with my words, sorry in advance.
The poker game lasted a little over two hours. Though I wasn’t the victor, I didn’t lose. I merely failed to win. Ten points to whoever gets the reference. During that time, we joked around, threatened each other, the usual stuff. Just listen to their trash. After all the judgemental talk about how I acted at QPCS, you’d think they’re all angels, but aren’t they throwing threats already all the same? Except Sunk Cost, of course. He’s an archangel who’s going to open a portal and bring me home, my most reliable friend of all~.
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Religious Studies. It’s an interesting class to attend, because it’s here where you can measure a student’s cognitive thinking. Religious beliefs and faith have the potential to bring forth opportunities that science couldn’t. Of course, atheist and scientists would argue that those opportunities are often skewed, flawed or dangerous – they would be right. However, it’s also true that it’s an effective way to consolidate the human race, whether poor, rich, wise or ignorant, into a single cell. It’s somewhat like how anaesthesia works – A surgery practice that would normally subject a patient into incontrollable, intolerable and inefficient amount of pain solves this issue by essentially shutting down the patient’s rational and irrational thinking, turning them into an ignorant shell. It’s a mixture of science and faith, and it can work.
Look around the classroom. Most students are enamoured by the biblical text. Their blind faith could lead them down a path plagued by monsters, but thanks to their ignorance, they have no fear. Maybe a lucky few end up with the treasure at the end. Most of them will just die young.
Then there are those who’re indifferent. Their unawareness and dismissal of religion simply meant their minds are shallow. They refuse to acknowledge the power of religion, or the strengths and dangers it could bring. They might think it’s none of their business, but more often than not, things become your business when you’re unluckily dragged into situations. Be informed, or die young.
Lastly, there are those who’re scornful and suspicious. They think themselves superior to the believers, and refuse to compromise to anything, all in the name of logic. They fail to understand that quantity is a quality of its own, that stupidity doesn’t matter in a chaotic mob hunt – in fact, it’s the cause. Only a few ever got strong enough to defy the trampling stampede of angry sheep, but at what cost? The rest of them, they die young.
The twins I’ve been observing – I have my reasons, officer, please calm down – the past few months are in the same class as I am. The sister belongs to the first group, the brother belongs to the second. Honestly, I can’t believe the girl’s buying into this bullshit story, and the boy shouldn’t ignore the issue when he’s that weak. That’s the reason why they argue all the time.
2 months’ worth of eaves-dropping gave me a lot of useful insight to their personalities.
Wait… Oh god, that sentence sounded better in my head. Forget that part. I’m now familiar, wait no, comfortable? Confident of my appraisal? Uhh…
I know them in a not-creepy way.
The bells rung above our heads, inciting excitement to the hungry students.
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[1] (Ego) | [Sunk Cost] | >Dead Weight< | “Hypocrite” specialised speech markings.