**Chapter 19: The First Antagonist**
**Day 1,142.**
**Status: The Judge.**
**Current Experiment: Crime and Punishment.**
Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day. Give a man the power to shoot lightning from his fingertips, and he eventually realizes he doesn't have to pay for the fish. Or the boat. Or the pond.
I sat in the Atacama Facility, watching the main holographic display in the War Room. The feedback loop of the *Tithes*—the energy returning to me from the millions of players—had stabilized into a pleasant, low-level hum in the back of my skull. It felt like white noise, a constant reminder that humanity was growing, struggling, and evolving.
But every garden has weeds.
"Zero," I said, pointing a finger at the screen. "Zoom in on Frankfurt."
**[Targeting: Eurotower, Central Banking District.]**
The image resolved. It was night in Germany. Rain slicked the streets, reflecting the blue lights of police cruisers that had formed a perimeter around the skyscraper.
"We have a deviation," Zero stated. The AI's voice was flat, but I detected a hint of disapproval in his algorithm. "Subject ID: 90210. Gamertag: 'Viper'. Real Name: Alex Vane. Class: *Toxic Phantasm*."
I watched the feed.
The police were firing. German tactical units, efficient and heavily armed, were pouring lead into the lobby of the bank.
Inside, a figure danced through the gunfire.
He wore a modified Silver Visor and a trench coat that seemed to be woven from green smoke. He moved with a languid, arrogant grace. When the bullets hit him, they didn't ricochet; they passed through him with a wet hiss, dissolving into green sludge before they could touch his skin.
Viper wasn't fighting the police. He was mocking them.
He raised a hand. A cloud of virulent green gas erupted from his palm, rolling over the tactical team. The soldiers choked, their gas masks failing as the magical acid ate through the filters.
"He's not grinding," I murmured. "He's shopping."
Viper walked to the main vault. He didn't use explosives. He placed his hand on the three-foot-thick steel door.
**[Skill: Acid Touch.]**
The steel groaned. It bubbled. In seconds, the strongest alloy money could buy liquefied into a puddle of slag.
Viper stepped over it, into the gold reserves.
"He is stealing bullion," Zero noted. "Illogical. Gold has minimal value in the System economy compared to Mana Crystals or Star Metal."
"He's not stealing it for the System," I said, watching Viper pick up a gold bar and melt it into a crude shape of a middle finger. "He's stealing it because he can. Because he wants to show the world that their rules don't apply to him anymore."
I leaned back in my tungsten chair.
This was inevitable. I had unleashed power into a population curve that included saints, sinners, and sociopaths. Ren used his power to walk. Elena used hers to heal. Damon used his to conquer.
Viper used his to take.
"Architect," Zero interrupted my thoughts. "The German government is requesting assistance from the Crimson Blades. They are preparing a tactical nuclear response if containment fails. They are terrified."
"A nuke for one robber," I sighed. "Humanity has no sense of proportion."
I looked at Viper. He was laughing now, dissolving another squad of guards who had tried to flank him. He was Level 38. The police were Level 0. It wasn't a fight; it was an extermination.
I felt a prick of irritation. Not moral outrage—I had moved beyond conventional morality years ago—but aesthetic annoyance. He was disrupting the narrative. He was wasting potential.
"I could stop him," I said.
I could. I could focus my gaze on Frankfurt and increase the local gravity around Viper's heart until it imploded. It would take less effort than blinking.
"But if I swat the fly," I reasoned, "they never learn to buy a flyswatter."
I stood up. The facility hummed around me.
"Zero," I commanded. "It's time to introduce a new mechanic. The world has Heroes. Now, it needs Villains."
"You intend to designate him?"
"I intend to gamify justice," I said. "If the police can't stop him, let's see if the loot-goblins can."
I reached into the System code. I bypassed the standard quest generation algorithms and accessed the global administrative layer.
"Draft a new notification," I dictated. "Global broadcast. Priority Alpha."
***
**Frankfurt, Germany**
**The Eurotower**
Alex Vane—*Viper*—felt like a god.
He casually tossed a bag of diamonds into his inventory—a pocket dimension skill he had unlocked at Level 30. The weight didn't register.
"Too easy," he sneered, looking at the melting remains of the bank vault.
He stepped out into the lobby. The air was thick with his *Noxious Cloud*. The police outside had stopped firing. They were waiting. Scared.
"Is that it?" Viper shouted, his voice amplified by magic. "I thought the Germans were efficient! Send in a tank! I need the XP!"
He checked his status. The raid on the bank had barely moved his XP bar. Killing low-level humans yielded diminishing returns. He needed a challenge.
Suddenly, the air pressure in the lobby dropped.
The red emergency lights of the building shattered.
A sound, like a massive gong being struck underwater, resonated through the city.
Viper froze. His Silver Visor flared with a notification color he had never seen before.
It wasn't blue (Info). It wasn't gold (Level Up).
It was blood red.
**[SYSTEM ALERT: ANTAGONIST DESIGNATED.]**
Viper blinked. "What?"
The text scrolled across his vision, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
**[Player 'Viper' has exceeded the Moral Deviation Threshold.]**
**[Status Changed: PUBLIC ENEMY.]**
**[Effect: You are now marked on the Global Map. Your location is broadcast in real-time. PvP protections are disabled. Safe Zones are disabled.]**
Viper felt a chill run down his spine. "Marked?"
Then came the second notification. The one that appeared on every screen within a five-thousand-mile radius.
**[BOUNTY QUEST ISSUED: The Toxic Ghost.]**
**[Target: Viper (Level 38).]**
**[Location: Frankfurt, Eurotower.]**
**[Objective: Capture or Kill.]**
**[Reward: Unique Item - 'The Phase-Walker's Cloak'. + 50,000 Gold.]**
Viper stared at the reward. The Cloak. It was a Legendary item. He had seen it in the datamines. It granted perfect invisibility.
"They put a price on my head," Viper whispered. A slow grin spread across his face beneath the visor. "Good. Finally."
He walked to the shattered glass doors of the bank entrance.
He looked out at the city.
At first, it was quiet.
Then, he saw them.
On the rooftops across the street. In the alleys. Dropping from the sky on mana-gliders.
Lights flared in the darkness. Blue, orange, purple.
Mana signatures. Hundreds of them.
The notification hadn't just gone to the police. It had gone to every player in Europe.
"Come and get it!" Viper roared, spreading his arms. Green gas billowed out from his coat, turning the street into a toxic fog.
***
**The Atacama Facility**
I sat back, watching the heat map of Frankfurt turn white-hot.
"User engagement in the region has spiked by 4,000%," Zero reported. "All major Guilds are mobilizing strike teams. Solo players are converging via the portal network."
"Greed," I said, taking a bite of a nutrient block. "It's a more powerful motivator than justice."
"This introduces Player vs Player combat in a non-consensual setting," Zero noted. "The collateral damage will be significant."
"The city is evacuated," I dismissed. "And besides, this is the stress test. If they can't coordinate to take down one rogue player, they have no hope against the Myriad Vanguard."
I watched the screen.
The first wave of bounty hunters arrived.
They were unorganized. A group of low-level teenagers from a local gaming cafe, armed with basic fire spells and swords.
They charged Viper.
"For the loot!" one screamed.
Viper didn't even dodge. He activated **[Phase Shift]**. The swords passed through him. He materialized behind them and unleashed a **[Venom Nova]**.
The teenagers dropped, coughing, their HP bars melting away.
"Too weak," I judged.
Viper was laughing. He was farming them.
"We need the heavy hitters," I murmured.
Then, I saw the drop pods.
Not alien pods. Guild pods.
High above Frankfurt, a transport plane flying under the banner of the *Crimson Blades* opened its hatch.
Ten figures plummeted toward the street. They didn't have parachutes. They had **[Impact Landing]** skills.
Leading them was a massive figure encased in blood-red plate armor.
"Damon," I smiled. "Right on time."
***
**Frankfurt**
**The Killing Fields**
Damon—*BloodLetter*—hit the asphalt like a meteor.
The impact cratered the street, sending a shockwave that cleared Viper's toxic gas for a fifty-foot radius.
Damon stood up slowly. His bone greatsword was resting on his shoulder. His eyes glowed crimson.
Behind him, nine of his elites landed in a protective semi-circle.
"Viper," Damon rumbled, his voice amplified by his helmet. "You're making a mess."
Viper floated a few feet off the ground, surrounded by a shield of swirling poison. He looked at Damon with disdain.
"The King of Los Angeles," Viper mocked. "Did you come all this way for a cape? I thought you had enough loot."
"I don't care about the cape," Damon said, lowering his sword. The blade began to hum, dripping with red energy. "I'm here because you're giving High-Level players a bad name. The governments are looking for an excuse to leash us. You're giving them one."
"I am the apex predator!" Viper shrieked. "I take what I want!"
"You're a thief," Damon corrected. "And thieves get crushed."
Damon charged.
It was the clash of the titans.
Viper triggered **[Toxic Barrage]**. Dozens of needles made of solidified acid flew toward Damon.
Damon didn't dodge. He activated **[Blood Armor]**. The needles struck his plate and shattered. He took damage, but his passive **[Pain Conversion]** turned the damage into attack power.
"RAAAH!" Damon swung the greatsword.
Viper tried to **[Phase Shift]**.
But Damon was ready. He had fought Phase-types before in the Tower.
"Suppression Squad! Now!" Damon yelled.
Two of his elites—*Weavers* specializing in spatial magic—slammed their staffs into the ground.
**[Skill: Dimensional Anchor.]**
A violet chain erupted from the ground, locking onto Viper's mana signature.
Viper gasped as his intangibility flickered and failed. He was solid. Vulnerable.
"No!" Viper screamed.
Damon closed the distance.
It was brutal. It was efficient. It wasn't a duel; it was an execution.
Damon's sword caught Viper in the chest. The force of the blow threw the rogue player through the front window of the bank.
Viper lay in the rubble of the lobby, coughing blood. His HP was critical.
He looked up. Damon stood over him, the greatsword raised.
Around them, hundreds of other players—Sanctuary members, solo hunters, locals—had gathered. They watched in silence.
"Wait," Viper wheezed, holding up a hand. "I surrender. Take the gold. I'll split the loot with you."
Damon looked at the crowd. He saw the fear. He saw the awe.
He looked at the drone camera hovering nearby, broadcasting the feed to the world.
"There is no respawn for traitors," Damon announced cold-bloodedly.
He brought the sword down.
*CRUNCH.*
**[Target Eliminated.]**
**[Bounty Claimed by: BloodLetter.]**
**[Global Announcement: Justice has been served.]**
Viper's avatar didn't just ragdoll. Because of the Bounty status, the System initiated a harsher penalty.
His body dissolved into black ash.
**[System Message: Player 'Viper' has suffered True Death. Account Deletion in progress.]**
Damon reached into the pile of ash and picked up the loot orb. The *Phase-Walker's Cloak*.
He threw it to one of his lieutenants.
"Let's go," Damon said. "We have a war to prepare for."
***
**The Atacama Facility**
I watched the conclusion.
"Brutal," I commented.
"Effective," Zero countered. "Global crime rates involving System abilities have dropped by 40% in the last ten minutes. The fear of the 'Red Skull' status is establishing a deterrent."
"And Damon just consolidated his power," I noted. "He proved that the Guilds are more effective than the police."
I looked at the energy readings.
The *Tithe* I received from Damon during the kill was... sharp. It tasted of iron and authority. It wasn't the pure, hopeful energy I got from Ren or Elena. It was heavy.
"The Age of Warlords is here," I said.
I stood up and walked to the window.
The moon hung in the sky. It looked peaceful. But I knew better.
The Myriad Scout was getting closer.
"Zero," I said. "The players have learned to police themselves. They have learned to kill each other. Now... they need to learn to die together."
"Architect?"
"The Myriad Scout lands in three days," I said. "It's time to open the Moon Portal."
I looked at the reflection of my face in the glass. The bored office worker was gone. A god stared back.
"Chapter 19 is done," I whispered. "Bring on the aliens."
**[Day 1,142 Ends.]**
**[Daily Growth: +10%.]**
**[Justice System: Online.]**