Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Prelude
Amidst the hum of the convoy's engines, Andre's voice crackled through the radio, inviting me into a discourse on an unexpected topic – politics and the pervasive oligarchy within the city. Andre, never one to shy away from expressing his opinions, delved into the seedy underbelly of Atlas City's social fabric, highlighting the exploitation of the poor and the hypocritical façade of the wealthy elite.
"What's in it for me?" I countered, a pragmatic inquiry that betrayed a certain detachment. The radio waves carried not only Andre's response but also Troy's boisterous background commentary, branding my question as heartless. Andre, however, responded with a nuanced understanding, acknowledging the diversity of political inclinations while advocating for a semblance of empathy.
Yet, empathy was a distant concept for me. As a once-incarnate Demon Lord now inhabiting the mortal realm, the intricacies of human compassion were but a shadow in the recesses of my consciousness. Andre's call for a display of empathy, though well-intentioned, echoed through the radio waves, leaving me pondering the complexities of human emotions.
Troy, in his exuberance, persisted in the background, prompting Andre to intervene with a stern rebuke. "Shut it, Troy! Leave the man be!" The radio momentarily fell silent, the weight of unspoken sentiments lingering in the virtual airwaves.
As the cityscape unfolded beyond the vehicle's windows, the radio chatter resonated with the echoes of societal disparities and individual perspectives. In this fleeting exchange, the dichotomy between human experiences and my own otherworldly existence became more pronounced, highlighting the intricate dance between empathy and detachment in the night-shrouded journey through Atlas City.
Andre's sigh echoed through the radio, a testament to the challenge of delving into meaningful conversations. He playfully speculated about my interests, suggesting a penchant for Space Wars, a topic that indeed piqued my curiosity. I couldn't help but appreciate Andre's skill in navigating the intricacies of human connections, a trait that distinguished him as a leader.
In response, I enthusiastically affirmed my fondness for Space Wars, particularly the Sci-fi Space Opera by Martin Lucas. The lively banter continued as I shared my admiration for Duke Obsidian, one of the legendary Space Lords etched in the annals of cinematic history. However, Troy, ever the contrarian, interjected with his disagreement, provoking another reprimand from Andre.
"Duke Obsidian was Jerk Flywright! I can tell he's a real jerk," Andre candidly remarked, offering his critique of the character. The diversity of opinions added a layer of depth to the conversation, transcending the immediate focus on our mission. Andre's comment about the perceived dullness in the quadcopter, surrounded by CEOs and older individuals, underscored the generation gap and the contrasting dynamics between our squad and the affluent passengers.
As the convoy continued its journey through the city, the exchange on Space Wars provided a fleeting respite from the mission at hand. In the shared enthusiasm for cinematic adventures among the stars, a subtle camaraderie emerged, momentarily bridging the gaps between our roles as mercenaries and individuals with personal passions. The night unfolded with a blend of seriousness and lighthearted banter.
As the radio waves carried the echoes of our conversation about Space Wars, Andre, in an unexpected turn, delved into more personal territory. "You had a wife, by the way, Dory?" he inquired, his voice cutting through the virtual airwaves with a tinge of curiosity.
"No, I am just living with my relatives," I responded matter-of-factly, revealing the solitary nature of my existence.
"I see, at least you have someone to go home to," Andre mused, his words carrying a subtle acknowledgment of the importance of companionship. The radio fell into a thoughtful silence, the weight of unspoken sentiments lingering in the airwaves.
After our exchange, I turned my attention back to the system, unfurling a cascade of notifications. Reminders and messages inundated the display, their words and directives veering into the realm of the divine. One message stood out, asserting, "Not all means are solved by strength. Strengthen the mind and pray or meditate!" The unsolicited advice, framed as a divine decree, irked me, stirring a rebellion against the unseen forces that dared to demand faith.
The gods' call for mental fortitude and spiritual practice struck a chord of indignation within me. How dare they prescribe a path to resolution when their interactions with mortals remained scarce? The juxtaposition of the celestial directive against the backdrop of our perilous mission in Atlas City fueled a sense of defiance, a silent rebellion against the ethereal puppeteers orchestrating the narrative of our lives.
In the midst of the city's shadows and the radio's intermittent chatter, the notification became a catalyst for introspection, a solitary rebellion against the cosmic forces attempting to impose their will. As the convoy pressed forward, the clash between mortal agency and divine intervention resonated in the quiet rebellion within my mind.
Moving on to the next notification it says...
[Important System Update!]
A restriction has been lifted!
I queried the system mentally to unveil which restriction had been lifted, and the system promptly presented the information.
[Important System Update]
Information about the restrictions are classified!"
In a fit of frustration, my exasperation burst forth, and I couldn't contain a vehement exclamation: "DAMN IT All! What a useless system!"
Abruptly, the reality of my surroundings dawned on me; I was within the confines of a vehicle, sharing the space with the CEO's daughter and her butler. The outburst hung in the air like an unwelcome guest, and a wave of shame washed over me, prompting a hasty retreat into silence. The disdainful gaze from the CEO's daughter, accompanied by her candid remark to the butler, served as a piercing reminder of the impropriety of my outburst.
"Hey, Reynald, that bodyguard of ours has a loose screw in his head!" she declared, the disdain evident in her tone. The butler, attempting to salvage the situation, dismissed the notion, suggesting a mere bad day as the culprit behind my uncharacteristic outburst.
"But..." The CEO's daughter persisted, her nagging echoing within the confines of the vehicle. As her voice grated on my nerves, irritation welled up within me, a simmering frustration at her entitled demeanor. The daughters of the affluent, I mused, often displayed a vexing arrogance, behaving as if the world revolved around them.
Despite the mounting irritation, I made a conscious effort to restrain my anger. The inner turmoil of keeping my composure in the face of the CEO's daughter's entitlement became a battle of self-control. Beneath my calm exterior, however, a silent warning echoed in my thoughts, a plea to the unseen gods for patience in the face of a testing ordeal.
As the CEO's daughter continued her incessant complaints within the vehicle, an unexpected interruption unfolded. The lead vehicle of the convoy abruptly came to a halt, causing a ripple effect as the rest of the convoy, including the one I occupied, screeched to a stop. Several kilometers away from our destination, I sensed trouble and wondered about the cause of the delay. My radio crackled to life as I reached out to the lead vehicle for an explanation.
"Someone's blocking our way, I need help!" came the urgent plea from the lead driver.
"Who's blocking your way?" I questioned.
"Some beggars, and wait... Someone's rushing. Oh, crap... it's a speeding vehicle. HE'S GOING TO CRASH!" The words were punctuated by a deafening boom as the lead vehicle succumbed to an explosion.
"A suicide bomber!?" The revelation jolted me, and I swiftly relayed the grim news to Andre, dubbing myself "Tortoise" in the radio communication. The response was clear – protect the princess and maintain our positions within the vehicles.
Observing the chaos unfolding behind me, the last vehicle in the convoy succumbed to flames, a victim of the ruthless attack. The severity of the situation prompted a realization – staying within the vehicles made us vulnerable targets.
"We will have to do it on foot!" I declared, gearing up for the imminent danger. The butler sought guidance, asking, "What shall we do then?" My response was succinct, "We'll have to do it on foot!" as the first volleys of gunfire erupted.
A glance at the spoiled CEO's daughter revealed her reluctance and complaints. Frustration surged within me, and I confronted her, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. Threatened by the unfolding peril, she reluctantly agreed to follow.
"This is Dory, and we are exiting the vehicle! Over!" I relayed the decision to Andre, only to be met with a vehement negative. Disregarding the order, I turned off the radio, recognizing the urgency to take matters into my own hands.
Exiting the vehicle, I surveyed the surroundings, keenly aware of potential threats. A sudden ambush caught us off guard, with bullets raining down upon us. The anti-kinetic barrier activated unexpectedly, deflecting the onslaught and providing a momentary reprieve. Seizing the opportunity, I neutralized the attacker, a surge of adrenaline propelling me forward.
With the butler, the CEO's daughter, and even the shaken Simon in tow, I rallied them, "Follow me if you want to live!" The chaos of the city's shadows intensified, and with a resolute determination, we embarked on a perilous journey on foot, navigating the intricate dance between survival and uncertainty.
[System]
Anti-kinetic barrier activated!
Cooldown: 35 seconds
38 Focus Points will refresh after the cooldown!
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone