Meinhard Janek found himself completely pinned under a suffocating, bone-crushing aura, his face instantly draining of all color like a freshly bleached sheet.
He had no choice but to bite the metaphorical bullet and babble for his life: “It’s the absolute truth, I swear!
I wouldn’t dare breathe a lie to the Mayor!
He…
he actually built a functional cannon!
Oh, and he casually threw together a massive fortress city while he was at it.
And made a flintlock rifle…”
Determined not to leave a single absurd detail behind, he spilled the entire ridiculous chain of events in one desperate breath.
Slowing down was off the table; he had a very healthy fear of provoking the powerhouse sitting in front of him.
Yet, after he finally ran out of air, he looked up to find Wisław Zackery completely frozen.
The Mayor sat motionless for several long seconds, looking as if his soul had briefly vacated his body.
“I-If the Mayor doesn’t believe a word of it…
You can go check the logs yourself!” Meinhard Janek squeaked, swallowing hard as he scrambled to cover his tracks.
Before Wisław’s inevitable explosive anger could detonate, the principal frantically tapped into his administrative overrides and yanked up the live feed projection of the island assigned to their student, Reed Newt.
The moment the feed expanded, a thunderous boom of artillery rattled the room, accompanied by a roaring sea of flames.
Down on the island, local sea monsters were getting absolute, industrial-grade carnage served to them on a silver platter.
Their numbers were plunging by the second.
Outside the perimeter of a staggering, impossibly grand fortress, mountain-like piles of sea monster corpses were casually stacked in grim monuments.
Tens of meters from the main gates, a neat line of Tier-1 sea monsters lay slumped over, each boasting a perfectly centered, smoking blood hole right between their eyes.
High above the slaughter, perched nonchalantly on the ramparts of this sprawling metropolis, stood Reed Newt.
He held a custom flintlock rifle over his shoulder like a seasoned sniper, lazily scanning the horizon for anything else foolish enough to move.
Beside him sat a battery of thirteen heavy cannons, enthusiastically operated by a crew of…
highly disciplined monkeys.
“So, he first convinced five hundred wild monkeys to join his labor force,” Meinhard offered nervously, observing the Mayor’s twitching eye.
“Then he smelted some raw ore, forged a whole catalog of iron tools, and put the monkeys to work constructing a modern military city.
Naturally, while they were laying bricks, he secretly engineered the artillery and the flintlocks on the side.”
He gulped and added, “Those Tier-1 beasts never even stood a chance.
Oh, and by the way…
Reed’s marksmanship is terrifying.
One shot, one kill.
Every single time.”
Wisław Zackery’s mind was currently being battered by a metaphorical tsunami.
If he had to summarize his thoughts in two words, they would be: Pure absurdity!
Directly in front of him, a glorious, imposing fortress sat right in the middle of a primitive, wilderness island.
It stuck out like a neon sign in a dark cave.
Outside, the landscape was practically paved with monster carcasses.
And according to Meinhard’s hysterical report…
every last bit of this, the city, the artillery, the firearms, was crafted by a single teenager.
From scratch!
With a box of scrap!
While everyone else was trying to figure out how to make fire, this lunatic had bypassed entire human epochs, single-handedly dragging a desolate island straight out of the Stone Age and launching it right into the Industrial Era.
It took a painfully long time for Wisław to drag his mind back to reality.
He stared blankly at the screen where Reed Newt was currently giving a thumbs-up to a cannon-operating monkey and let out a heavy, conflicted sigh.
“This kid…
is seriously out of his mind.”
While the rest of the student body across the realm was crying over basic survival, Reed Newt was out here playing city-builder simulators, arming primates, and mass-producing high-caliber weaponry to steamroll native fauna.
His overall standard of living hadn’t just surpassed his peers; it had launched itself into another dimension entirely.
“So…
Mr.
Mayor,” Meinhard Janek whispered, noticing that the suffocating aura had somewhat dissipated.
He leaned in with a hopeful, oily grin.
“About that disciple recruitment thing we discussed last week…”
If the Mayor took Reed in as his direct disciple, Reed’s status would skyrocket, and Valley View Academy would suddenly have the ultimate cheat-code sponsor backing them!
“Get out,” Wisław muttered, rolling his eyes so hard he nearly sprained them.
“Understood!” Meinhard snapped his neck back, dropped his gaze, and wisely decided not to push his luck.
He beat a very swift, tactful retreat right out the doors of City Hall.
Meanwhile, the explosive shift on the leaderboard had sent the entire territory into absolute chaos.
City Hall wasn’t the only institution losing its collective mind; every academy leader across the region was panicking.
Secret agents and mentors were frantically dispatched to dig up every scrap of info on Reed Newt’s background, lineage, and favorite food.
“3,000 points before the seventh day?!
Is he a battle god?!”
“Pass down an absolute order!
If anyone spots Reed Newt in the Endless Sea, offer him gifts, offer him tribute, befriend him at all costs!
Under no circumstances do you make an enemy out of that lunatic!”
“What kind of black magic is he running?!
How did he steal the top spot and completely trample Hanna Raelene from Cypress Institute?!”
“Wait…
could he have already broken through to Rank-3?!”
The entire region was in disarray.
In all their decades of watching these trials, no one had ever witnessed a leaderboard curve look so grotesquely lopsided.
First place held a staggering 3,500 points.
Second place hadn’t even cracked 1,000.
It wasn’t a gap; it was an abyss.
Naturally, the rumor mill took off running: Reed Newt had secretly unlocked third-level absolute combat power and was currently clearing the ocean like a walking catastrophe.
Over at Cypress Institute, inside the Observation Room, the atmosphere was dead silent.
Much like every other school, the entire faculty was crammed into the viewing gallery.
“How long has she been standing like that?” Winslow Eric asked softly, peering at the projected screen showing Hanna Raelene’s island.
His brow was furrowed with deep concern.
A mentor let out a long, depressed sigh.
“Ever since…
well, ever since the leaderboard refreshed.
She hasn’t moved an inch.”
Winslow Eric glanced up at the floating scoreboard and winced.
The numbers were updating in real time.
Reed Newt’s score was ticking up like a runaway taximeter, smoothly passing 3,500.
Hanna Raelene’s score, meanwhile, sat stubbornly frozen at 910 points.
The gap wasn’t just wide; it was cruel.
It was no wonder Hanna had entered a state of complete existential dread.
“Her Mind…
I fear it’s about to shatter into fine dust,” Winslow Eric muttered, feeling the sheer weight of disappointment.
Hanna possessed elite talent; she was the prized gem of Cypress Institute.
A genuine Rank-9 Island Holder had personally guaranteed she was destined for greatness.
The praise had been lavish, the expectations sky-high.
And yet, that very same proud genius was currently having a full-blown existential crisis because a guy with a monkey army and some flintlocks was breaking the system.
Truthfully, it wasn’t just Hanna.
The entire student body of Cypress Institute had collectively given up after seeing the top score.
All drive, ambition, and competitive spirit had withered away, replaced by a blanket of pure despair.
How were you supposed to compete with a guy who brought artillery to a knife fight?
Out on the island, the horizon was beginning to glow with the soft pinks of dawn.
The deafening roar of cannon fire that had rattled the coast all night finally quieted down.
Reed Newt stretched his arms atop the fortress walls, taking a deep breath of the ocean breeze.
Looking out over the literal carpet of sea monster corpses blanketing the beach, a wide, satisfied grin spread across his face.
Every single one of those monstrosities carried a dense energy core inside its skull, and in this game, energy cores meant an absurd, game-breaking heap of survival points.