The central broadcast towers of Sector 9—massive, rusted iron spires usually reserved for corporate rationing announcements and emergency quarantine warnings—suddenly flickered to life.
Across the sprawling, neon-lit slums and the decaying residential rings, thousands of cracked holographic screens and public audio speakers crackled with a burst of static.
The low, rhythmic hum of industrial generators seemed to hold its breath.
In every alleyway, beneath every leaking copper pipe, and inside every cramped, modular housing unit, scavengers, unevolved families, and low-tier syndicate enforcers stopped what they were doing.
A sharp, clear digital chime rang out, echoing across the district with absolute authority.
[Bully System Broadcast]
Transmitter: Sector 9 Sub-Core
Target: All Regional Factions, Syndicates, and Corporate Assets
Subject: Mandatory Attendance Policy
The static faded, replaced by a voice that was smooth, calm, and utterly devoid of hesitation.
It wasn’t the gravelly roar of a gang boss, nor the cold, synthetic monotone of a corporate AI.
”Attention, Sector 9,” Deku Kwanoh’s voice resonated through the speakers, carrying effortlessly over the hum of the city.
“For too long, this district has operated under the illusion that chaos is a law of nature. You have allowed syndicates to extort your water, corporations to treat your lives as disposable refuse, and weakness to masquerade as fate.”
Inside a smoky, half-abandoned gambling den two blocks away from the water hub, surviving syndicate members dropped their cards, staring up at the ceiling speakers in paralyzed disbelief.
”Starting today, the curriculum changes,” Deku continued, his tone chillingly polite.
“Water valves to all unevolved residential rings are fully open. Corporate checkpoints are now under new management. If you hold a weapon, you report to the central plaza. If you hold power, you learn how to use it correctly.”
A pause hung in the air—short, heavy, and suffocating.
”Class dismissed.
See you in the courtyard.”
The transmission clicked off, leaving a stunned, breathless silence hanging over the entirety of Sector 9. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Standing in the control room of the central water hub, Deku lowered the broadcast microphone.
He adjusted the collar of his ruined, slime-caked high school uniform, straightening his tie with military precision.
His dark, piercing eyes were calm, reflecting the cold light of the flickering main console.
Beside him, Pip stared at the cascading data streams, his hands shaking slightly as he watched thousands of encrypted corporate security nodes lock themselves out simultaneously.
”Boss…” Pip whispered, swallowing hard as he looked up at Deku.
“You just declared war on every syndicate boss and corporate executive from here to the quarantine wall. They’re going to send everything they have.”
Deku turned his head slowly, a dark, dangerous smirk curling the corners of his lips as the system interface hummed warmly in his veins, pushing his Overclocked Flesh and spatial-kinetic core to their absolute limits.
”Let them,” Deku said softly, his voice echoing with the promise of total dominion.
“An unruly classroom always needs a strict principal.”