CHAPTER 19: BRANDED A TERRORIST

"Slash!" Brian slashed at the dire wolf, killing it and leveling up.

"Phew," he exhaled, the grinding taking its toll on him, his mental capacity bottoming out. But he felt refreshed and invigorated immediately when he felt the level-up glow. He had finally reached level ten and was ready to go on an adventure to the main city. He checked his stats, quickly distributing the points as he saw fit.

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User Information:

User: Sword God

Title: N/A

Job: N/A

Level: 10

Health: 1000

Strength: 9

Speed: 8

Stamina: 7

Intelligence: 3

Constitution: 6

Talent: SSS Rank - [Sword God: Any sword technique you see once is immediately learned. Proficiency speed increases exponentially as you progress in mastery. Sword skills can't be used if the requirements, such as aura, stamina, and strength, are below the required standard.]

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Sword God—the talent ranked at the upper end of SSS rank, just short of reaching the Ex rank. The rank that made Brian the bane of Greg in his past life, copying his sword skills quickly. Greg had been the fertilizer that had allowed Brian to reach the fullest of his potential in their past lives.

But of course, Greg—now Nemesis—wouldn't allow himself to be used in that way this time around.

Brian walked in silence until he arrived at the village chief's hall.

"Oh, Sword God, it seems you have finally reached level 10. Impressive. Hold on, I will be giving you the recommendation letter in just a moment. Luckily, some warriors have planned to go to the capital city. I will talk to them, to allow the company of one more adventurer, ensuring the journey is smooth and less dangerous," the village chief said, standing up to retrieve the recommendation letter.

"You have my thanks, village head," Brian said, bowing his head lightly.

Waving his hand in a disapproving manner, the village chief urged Brian to raise his bowed head.

"There's no need for such formalities, my dear friend. Please, raise your head."

With respect and admiration, Brian raised his head.

"I will cheer you on in your rise to greatness, lad," the village chief said.

Brian waited patiently for the village chief to retrieve the recommendation letter, greatly anticipating the adventure ahead.

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******

"Any news on Nemesis?" the president of Country M asked, the pressure mounting on him due to the surrounding nations.

"None, sir," the secretary replied respectfully.

"Hmm, and we can't find out anything about him?"

"None, sir. There's not a single trace of him, as if he was created from thin air."

"Hah, this is getting pretty frustrating. What about his company? No lead from there?"

"That's a dead end too, sir. According to the previous owner, it was bought swiftly and with secrecy as part of the contract. Of course, we decided to use force, backed by the judiciary, but still, we got nothing. The company has been forcefully shut down, but it doesn't seem to faze him, as if..."

"As if it was of no value to him. Aside from the broadcast, the company never had much value to him. To spend so much money just to get one task done... It seems we are going against a very dangerous and wealthy enemy. The administrators of that game—they aren't even helping at all. Damn game," the president said, feeling extremely tired from the ordeal.

"You got any information from our surrounding nations?"

"Yes, Mr. President. They have asked us to be more, well, aggressive in our actions."

"Hmm. Tell me, what were their suggestions?" the president asked, intrigued and wary at the same time. He felt rather annoyed. The sovereignty of his country—a powerhouse that could bring countless nations to their knees—was being pressured and subjected to scrutiny and excessive pressure from neighboring nations because of just one man.

"They suggested we brand Nemesis a national-level terrorist and take drastic measures to track him down," the secretary said in a rather low voice this time.

"Those fools. How dare they?"

He felt annoyed. Branding his citizen as a terrorist was a decision no leader would want to make, as it would bring down the country's reputation. And yet, those hungry wolves were asking for just that. It was clear now—they planned to use the opportunity to strike at his country.

Silence permeated the office for a long time, the secretary standing quietly, awaiting the president's decision. With a long sigh, the president finally made up his mind.

"Very well. See to it that the necessary arrangements are made. The faster we get rid of that person, the quicker we can gain control of the situation."

"Yes, sir. I will see to it," the secretary responded.

Nodding his head, he allowed her to leave, the task for the day enough to give him eye bags.

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******

Nemesis was sitting on a cushion. His gaming limit had been reached, so he decided to check the news concerning his actions, preparing his next course of action. But for the first time since his regression, things didn't go as planned or predicted.

"What?" he said, his voice raised, anger evident.

On the broadcast he was watching, he had been branded a terrorist and a national-level threat.

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"The unknown person, Nemesis, has as of today been branded a terrorist and a national-level threat, and the country has decided to take action immediately to decapitate the threat. Anyone with information concerning the unknown 'Nemesis' should report immediately to any legitimate authority. Supporters and accomplices will be branded as terrorists as well if caught. He has been branded a terrorist for causing nationwide unrest as well as holding hostage the Thunderbolt Broadcast Company, forcing them to do his bidding..."

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Listening to the trash being broadcast by the news reporter was vexing, causing Nemesis to turn off the TV.

"How dare they?" he muttered, rubbing his temples.

Creating his guild now would be easier said than done, thanks to the propaganda being spread.

But seriously? Hostages? He bought those companies. Was there something wrong with their brains?

But then again, that was how every country worked—using control over the media and the ability to distort information to their advantage.

Once more, he was shown the power of connections and authority.

Of course, he wasn't going to go down that easily.

It was time to utilize his wildcard.

Taking out his burner cell phone, he called a particular number.

"Hello," the call receiver said with a cheery voice.

"Gold Goblin, I assume you already have an inkling as to why you were called," Nemesis said, his voice carrying no emotion whatsoever.

"Of course. Even I wouldn't be comfortable being branded a terrorist. Well, can't fault them, can we? You literally pointed fingers at them and called them deceivers. You should call it even, to be fair."

"I'm not calling to ask if the situation is fair or not. I need you to overturn this. It's getting in the way of my plans, and that's rather annoying to me," Nemesis said.

"Sheesh, already working me to the bone so soon? That's heartbreaking, you know. I finally feel like I struck a very unfair bargain with you. But very well—you just have to take a bath, eat some food, and go to sleep. You'll wake up to good news tomorrow," Gold Goblin said.

"Very good. I will leave it to you then. Do not disappoint me, Gold Goblin," Nemesis said before ending the call and destroying the phone. "Yeesh, what a delegating young man. He'll work me to death, it seems," Gold Goblin muttered to himself after the call ended.

Gold Goblin, also known as Will George—well, only known as Will George by the general population—was the richest man in the world, with a great deal of connections and control over several politicians in different countries.

The richest man in the world had a hobby: games. He was a huge fan of video games and a pay-to-win gamer. He had dived into Apocalypse the moment it was released, becoming completely engrossed in it.

How did Nemesis reach out to him? Well, it was rather easy. Nemesis had called his gaming number—a secret number George had created to communicate with his gaming friends while hiding his identity. The number was highly encrypted and protected. Of course, thanks to Nemesis' previous life, knowing the number was easy.

Gold Goblin had once taken an interest in the F-rank trash genius and, as a gaming geek, had spammed calls every day, receiving several curses from Greg at the time. But being unfazed—as when it came to gaming, he never cared about his position and power—George kept going. Gaming was the only time he could feel truly alive and enjoy himself. Being called so many times, Greg couldn't help but commit the contact to memory.

So in this present life, he called George. At first, George was suspicious of Nemesis and how he got his number but quickly threw that concern out the window when he listened to Nemesis' plans and words about Apocalypse. Like a kid promised candy, George was caught in a net.

The smooth faked deaths of Greg and his sister were carried out thanks to George's help. He had taken action personally. George had become Nemesis' most valuable asset—and his wild card in the real world.