Utopian System
Chapter 8: Chapter 8: System's Insult

"Your father beat the third level?" A mocking voice sounded behind Elio, causing him to turn sharply. There stood Varick, flanked by his usual goons.

Kriz, Brok, and Ren tensed immediately, their bodies going rigid as they recognized the son of one of the two privileged families. Varick wielded almost unlimited freedom within the army ranks.

"Well, well, Elian," Varick sneered, sauntering over to their table with the casual arrogance of someone who's never known true hardship. "I didn't know your family was so powerful... I see you're having fun, but why brag about such a pitiful achievement?"

Elio clenched his fists under the table, feeling a familiar anger burning in his gut. He forced his voice to remain steady as he replied, "I'm not bragging. I'm just telling the truth."

Varick snorted derisively, his lip curling in disgust. "The truth? Fine, but what a shity truth. Please, we have hundreds of level 3 soldiers, all of them want to work for the families, yet never saw your father working for us. So now we all know your father was a nobody."

The words stung Elio deeply, hitting a raw nerve he didn't even know he had. For years, he had harbored resentment towards his father for leaving them mired in poverty after his death.

But now, understanding his accomplishments a bit better, Elio realized it was the first time in a long while he had spoken well of him.

Despite everything, his father's teachings had brought him to where he was now. The information he had imparted proved to be valuable, and Elio couldn't help feeling a pang of guilt for having so long scorned his memory.

"Can you even retort to me?"

Before he could formulate a response, Varick spat on the ground in front of Elio, the glob of saliva landing just inches from his feet. "Pathetic," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Just like your father."

Suddenly, a sack dropped at Elio's feet, spilling its contents onto the floor. Elio's heart sank as he recognized the items, the very things he had purchased with the 100 mana points his mother had painstakingly saved up over two long years.

But now they were coated in rotten food leftovers. Elio looked up at Varick, fury blazing in his eyes. "What did you do?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Varick shrugged nonchalantly. "Just having a bit of fun with your little trinkets. After all, what else can be done with something earned by trash like you?"

Before Elio could reply, one of Varick's goons shoved him hard in the shoulder, causing him to stumble.

Elio felt a surge of humiliation and rage course through him, but he held himself back with every ounce of willpower he possessed. He couldn't afford to provoke Varick, not when the privileged son wielded so much power in the army ranks.

Instead, swallowing his pride, Elio bent down and began gathering up the scattered items. He tried to ignore the mocking laughter of Varick and his lackeys, each chuckle feeling like a physical blow.

As he reached for the last item, Varick sauntered over and casually placed his foot on Elio's shoulder, pressing his weight down.

"What's the matter, Elian?" he taunted, grinding his heel into Elio's flesh. "Can't take a little fun?"

Elio gritted his teeth, enduring the pain as he scooped up the final item. Then, in one fluid motion, he abruptly stood up, shoving Varick hard enough that the privileged son stumbled backwards.

For a brief moment, Varick's eyes went wide with surprise as he fought to regain his balance. His goons, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, were slow to react. Without their support, Varick toppled backwards, landing unceremoniously on the floor with a satisfying thud.

He scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, furious. But before he could say anything, Elio had already turned and was stalking away, his head held high.

A tense silence fell over the dining hall as Varick fumed, his fists clenched at his sides. Elio had already disappeared out the door, leaving everyone holding their breath, waiting to see how the privileged son would react to this unexpected defiance.

Finally, Varick snorted in disgust and stormed off, his goons trailing close behind like obedient dogs.

As soon as he was out of earshot, a collective sigh of relief filled the hall. Some even had to stifle laughter at the sight of Varick tripping over his own feet in his haste to leave, his usual grace abandoned in his fury.

Kriz, Brok, and Ren looked at each other, newfound admiration shining in their eyes. Maybe, just maybe, their new roommate would prove to be more interesting, and more formidable, than they had initially thought.

♢♢♢♢

After the incident with Varick, Elio retreated to a quiet corner to meticulously clean his belongings.

The magic dagger, thankfully, still retained all its uses. If he managed to sell the items, he might just recoup the 100 points his mother had sacrificed so much to give him. The thought of her face, filled with pride and hope as she handed over that precious crystal, steeled his resolve.

When he returned to the room, his new friends were waiting, eager to continue the conversation where they had left off…

"So that's how I tricked the Water Monster," Elio finished explaining, a hint of pride coloring his voice. "If I'd had this magic dagger during the trial, the battle would've ended even faster."

"Alright, I'll admit it. I'm intrigued," Kriz said at last, leaning forward with genuine interest. "Now I'm dying to know the strategy for the third level. Spill it, man!"

Elio shook his head, a conflicted expression crossing his face. "I can't give you the details yet. But if I can confirm my father's strategy actually works... then I'll tell you everything I know. I promise."

Brok snorted in frustration, his massive arms crossed over his chest. "Come on, man. Can't you at least give us a hint? Throw us a spoiler here!"

A mysterious smile tugged at the corners of Elio's mouth. "Maybe if you want to pay me..." he teased, though there was a hint of seriousness behind his jest.

Ren narrowed his eyes, studying Elio with that penetrating gaze of his. "Jokes aside... What if you fail? If your strategy doesn't work?"

Elio's demeanor darkened, the weight of his decision settling heavily on his shoulders. "Then I'll have wasted my one shot. My family will still be trapped in poverty, and I'll..." he swallowed hard, "I'll die in the attempt."

A somber silence fell over the room as they considered the gravity of Elio's words. Finally, Kriz shook his head, an admiring smile crossing his face despite the tension.

"Well, buddy, you better think real hard if you're gonna bet your life on this 'revised method' of yours. That's one hell of a gamble."

Brok grunted in agreement. "But I guess we don't have many options if things really are as bad as they seem... Maybe I should start saving for that sword too. Better to take a chance than sit around waiting for the monsters to get us."

Ren remained silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm but carried an undercurrent of intensity. "Alright, Elio. Let's say you decide to take the risk. Your method works better, and you manage to beat the third level easily. What then?

What's your endgame?"

Elio met his gaze unflinchingly. "Then I'll teach you everything I know. Every detail, every strategy, every secret my father entrusted to me before he died. Together, we might have a better chance to do something for this city."

Silence hung in the air as the other three considered his words. Finally, Kriz let out a low whistle. "Damn, buddy. That's pretty admirable. But we're getting ahead of ourselves here. It's not like we're already under 100,000 men.

They would've said something... right?"

Elio shrugged, though the set of his jaw betrayed his concern. "It's an assumption, I admit. But it doesn't hurt to be prepared for the worst. Better to have a plan and not need it than to be caught off guard."

No one responded, and an awkward silence settled over the room, each of them lost in their own thoughts, contemplating the implications of Elio's words.

After a moment, Kriz rubbed the back of his neck, a crooked smile crossing his face. "Damn Elio. I don't know if you're a genius or a madman. But if you decide to try this method of yours… You can count me in to absorb the teachings, buddy."

Brok added with a snort, pushing himself to his feet. "Well, I guess we should go feed the turret with today's points. It's almost our shift time, and I'd rather not give those bastards an excuse to dock us extra points."

Ren nodded slowly. "Agreed. Best to get there a bit early. They're always looking for reasons to squeeze more out of us."