When The System Spoils You For No Reason-Chapter 59 - Fifty Nine

"In every age, the strong devour the weak. That is the law of the universe." — Reinhard

---

Jude Wren opened his eyes to the familiar wooden ceiling—rough-hewn beams still bearing axe marks from their construction. The room he’d been sleeping in for two weeks now. Two weeks since entering the Tower.

The transition had been abrupt. One moment, he and his friends—Kai, Aaron, Yeon, his brother Anton, and the straggler Michael—had stepped through the shimmering portal. The next, they’d materialized in dense forest, kilometers from any trace of civilization.

After a week of grueling work, Zeke had managed to build them a house, wielding his extensive knowledge like a weapon he refused to let them forget. He’d enlisted their help with the enthusiasm of a military contractor and the patience of a sleep-deprived tyrant.

"I have Knowledge of All Mundane Things," he’d announced for the fifteenth time that day, gesturing grandly at a poorly aligned support beam. "Which means I know exactly how incompetent you’re all being."

Today, they’d finally planned to tour the forest properly—to find civilization, roads, some indication they weren’t the first humans to set foot here.

Zeke had been categorically against it. He enjoyed the peace of the forest, he’d said, sprawled in a hammock he’d somehow conjured. The quiet. The lack of people wanting things from him.

But Kai’s boisterous ramblings had worn him down like water on stone, relentless and inevitable.

It had taken them three days to travel out of the forest and finally glimpse civilization—a village that looked like it had been lifted wholesale from a medieval fantasy novel. Thatched roofs, dirt roads, a smithy with an actual anvil.

It would have taken more than three days, except that after the first day of trekking with no civilization in sight, Zeke had sighed dramatically and summoned a vehicle from his inventory—the famous Truck-kun, back for another appearance.

"Why didn’t you do this from the start?" Aaron had asked, already climbing into the cab.

"You didn’t ask," Zeke had replied, grinning.

---

Upon reaching the village, they’d introduced themselves as adventurers, with Anton smoothly taking the lead. He was familiar with the Tower’s ecosystems, after all—four thousand years of lived experience gave him certain advantages.

They’d been able to find out where they were, and more importantly, how to move forward. The village sat near the border of the kingdom, a week’s travel from the capital city.

The team had immediately planned to head for the capital.

Zeke had stopped them with a single, emphatic complaint.

"We spent a week building a house," he’d said, arms crossed, his tone carrying the wounded dignity of a man betrayed. "A ’week’. I exhausted my supply of tools directing you idiots through basic carpentry—"

"Your toolbox is infinite," Jude had pointed out.

"—and you want to just abandon it? What kind of monsters are you?"

Anton had supported Zeke, though for different reasons entirely. His expression had been thoughtful, strategic.

"To successfully integrate into the capital," he’d explained, "we need a suitable identity. One with documentation, history, credibility."

They had an identity: adventurers.

But they needed a portfolio to back it up.

So they’d stayed in the village, working through the local adventurers’ guild—taking contracts, hunting monsters in the surrounding forests, building their reputation one subjugation at a time. They commuted back and forth to the house Zeke refused to abandon, his pettiness a compass that oriented their daily lives.

Jude had enjoyed the hunting. His trait—[ Level Up ] —had become prominent with every kill, absorbing essence, converting death into permanent strength. The effect was magnified here, within the Tower, far beyond what it had been on Earth.

After a month, they’d finally headed to the capital city. The journey took a week.

Upon arrival, they’d registered with the capital’s adventurers’ guild, a sprawling stone complex that smelled of leather, steel, and ambition.

Then they’d continued their jobs, this time on a grander scale.

---

After a year, they’d become a renowned squad within the guild—one of three elite groups operating at the highest tiers of difficulty.

The team had become a well-knit unit, their coordination honed through shared battles and late-night strategizing over Zeke’s cooking. But in truth, they ranked third partly due to lack of numbers compared to the other groups, and partly because Kai and Aaron held them back.

Both had stagnated—Kai at A-Rank, Aaron at B-Rank, their growth plateauing despite constant combat.

Jude, meanwhile, had reached SSS-Rank.

His trait had carried him there, its benefits exponentially better within the Tower’s structure. Every kill fed him power, a relentless upward climb.

Now, only the elusive Michael was demonstrably stronger.

Zeke had also reached SSS-Rank, He barely made a move in most fights, luxuriating in his laziness with the dedication of a monk pursuing enlightenment.

And yet, somehow, he kept getting stronger.

As for Anton, he’d shrugged when asked about his progress. "There’s hardly anything in this kingdom to push me forward," he’d said.

---

The strength had given Jude something he hadn’t realized he’d needed: confidence.

Not the bravado of youth, but the solid, unshakeable certainty of competence earned through blood and effort.

He’d become the forerunner of the squad, the tip of their spear. Outsiders who didn’t know the group’s internal dynamics often mistook him for the leader.

At first, he’d worried it would cause friction, create misunderstandings.

Zeke had been the first to shut that down.

"You’re doing the work," Zeke had said, waving a hand dismissively. "Why shouldn’t you get the credit?"

Anton had nodded, his gaze serious. "It’s better you learn to be a leader now. Train for the role you’ll need to fill."

His brothers—Kai and Aaron—had supported him without hesitation, their loyalty unquestioned.

Michael had simply shrugged, ambivalent as always.

Jude had felt something warm and solid settle in his chest. Joy. Pride. And a creeping awareness of responsibility—the weight of not wanting to fail the people who trusted him.

In public, he moved with Kai and Aaron, a visible trio. Anton stepped forward when they needed to showcase the squad’s true strength, his presence a deterrent to most threats.

Michael and Zeke both lazed around, content to let others handle the performative aspects of adventuring.

---

Compared to their group—four SSS-Ranked members—the other two elite groups each fielded three SSS-Ranked adventurers. But their manpower vastly exceeded Jude’s team. They’d recruited aggressively, building rosters of dozens.

Jude had been given the green light to recruit.

He’d declined. He preferred his day ones, the people who’d been there from the start.

---

After about a year and a half of adventuring in the capital, the group received an invitation to a gathering—an event hosted every five years by the two top elite groups, bringing together the kingdom’s most powerful adventurers.

Being invited was itself a significant honor, a recognition of status.

Jude’s group had received an automatic invite as the third elite group in the kingdom.

As usual, only Jude, Aaron, and Kai attended.

The others had found it stupid.

Zeke and Michael would never have gone—social gatherings were anathema to their preferred lifestyles. Anton had simply found it ridiculous to waste an evening on political theater.

"I’ve had my fill of these things," he’d said, grimacing.

Michael had nodded agreement, his smile bland. "Tedious."

So the trio went alone.

---

An hour into the gathering, held in a lavish guildhall decorated with banners and excessive candlelight, the two top groups made an announcement.

Or rather, an invitation.

Delivered by the single SSS-Ranked representative from each group—both smiling with the kind of confidence that came from holding all the cards.

"Join us," the first said, his tone magnanimous. "Become part of the First Group. Your talents would be... valued."

The phrasing had been careful. Diplomatic.

The reality, revealed moments later, was far less so.

They wanted Jude’s team to become lackeys. Subordinates. The revelation came with a casual cruelty, as if the offer itself was generous.

What surprised Jude more was the Second Group’s representative nodding along, smiling, clearly content with this arrangement.

Which meant the Second Group were already lackeys themselves.

A fact confirmed when one of the present members laughed. "Everyone here serves the First Group. And the First Group serves the Second Prince."

An SSS-Ranked powerhouse, they explained. A royal. Someone who appeared docile in public but whose influence was absolute.

---

Naturally, the trio rejected the offer.

Jude’s response was immediate, his voice calm but final. "We’re not interested."

The room’s temperature dropped.

The two representatives exchanged glances, their smiles thinning into something sharper.

"That’s unfortunate," the first said. "You see, while you’ve been here... the rest of our SSS-Ranked members have gone to ambush your friends. At your base."

Silence.

Then Kai laughed—short, disbelieving. "You’re joking."

"We’re not."

Aaron’s hand went to his weapon. Jude felt his pulse quicken, adrenaline sharpening his focus.

"You think your ambush will work?" Jude asked, his voice low. Dangerous.

He had absolute confidence. Zeke alone could handle multiple SSS-Ranked opponents. Add Michael and Anton to the equation, and the so-called ambush was a massacre waiting to happen.

"Maybe. Maybe not." The representative shrugged. "But you three? You’re not leaving this building."

And then the room moved.

Adventurers—dozens of them, S-Ranked and SS-Ranked, rising from seats and emerging from shadowed alcoves—formed a tightening circle.

Jude made his decision in a heartbeat.

"We fight our way out," he said, his voice carrying absolute certainty.

Kai and Aaron nodded, weapons already drawn.

---

It should have worked.

Jude engaged the two SSS-Ranked representatives, his flames roaring to life, his enhanced stats allowing him to hold them both at bay. His trait fed him power with every moment of combat, his strength climbing.

Kai and Aaron fought the rest.

And that’s where it fell apart.

Aaron’s necromancy was powerful—shadows erupted, corpses rose, his abilities creating chaos and controlling space.

But there were too many. S-Ranked adventurers with coordinated tactics. SS-Ranked elites who’d fought together for years.

Kai’s holy light blazed, his barriers holding for precious seconds before shattering under sustained assault.

Aaron’s shadows were overwhelmed, his mana depleting, his summons cut down faster than he could replenish them.

Jude saw it happening—saw his brothers faltering, blood slicking the floor, their breathing ragged—and made a choice.

He abandoned his fight with the two representatives.

Flame erupted around him in a corona of heat and rage, and he turned on the lower-ranked members, his singular focus: *kill them all*.

His trait demanded death. He would give it an ocean.

He succeeded.

Eventually.

The guildhall became an abattoir—bodies piled, blood pooling, the air thick with the copper stench of slaughter. Jude moved through it like a reaper, his flames unrelenting, his strikes fueled by grief and the exponential power his trait fed him with every kill.

By the time he stopped, his body was drenched in blood—his own and his enemies’. His hands shook. His vision blurred.

The hall was silent except for his ragged breathing.

Kai and Aaron lay motionless among the carnage.

---

That’s when Zeke and the others arrived.

They stepped through the shattered entrance, their expressions shifting from casual alertness to cold, immediate assessment.

"We killed the ambushers," Anton said quietly, his gaze sweeping the massacre. "All of them."

Zeke’s eyes found Kai and Aaron. His face went blank.

After hearing what had happened—Jude’s voice cracking as he explained, grief and rage warring in every word—Anton spoke.

"We need to leave the kingdom," he said, his tone urgent. "We’re up against the Second Prince. He’s more powerful than any of us, likely more powerful than all of us combined."

"No." Jude’s voice was flat, final.

He could feel it—the power thrumming through him, his stats higher than they’d ever been. He’d absorbed so much death that he felt almost invincible.

"I can beat Michael now," he said, and he believed it. "Combined with the group’s strength, we can destroy this kingdom. And I’ll grow stronger in the process. Make it easier."

Zeke’s expression shifted. A slow, terrible smile.

"Let’s go, then." He was already moving toward the castle, his stride purposeful.

Michael shrugged and followed, his hands in his pockets.

Anton smiled—a sharp, knowing expression.

He’d wanted to test this. To see if Jude was ready for leadership, for the burden of responsibility that came with his destined role.

Together, they stormed the king’s castle.

---

"I knew that was too good to be true."

"I’m undergoing the first floor’s test, aren’t I?" Anton said, more to himself than anyone.

"Very torturous," Anton continued, his tone carrying bitter admiration. "Making me the reason my brother failed again. But toward the end, I had my doubts."

"This time, I had Zeke. Why would I fail? Not just because of his strength—Zeke has a way of making connections. I tried to teach my brother that."

His expression hardened.

"And ’she’ should have come. But she didn’t."

He paused.

"That’s acceptable, perhaps. But where was Michael? Where was Enel? Where were Earth’s other true geniuses—not those fakes, but the real ones?"

Anton’s smile turned sharp.

"You failed, Tower. But you would have accounted for that, wouldn’t you ?"

As he finished speaking, the world shimmered.

Reality folded, the white void dissolving like mist.

When it reformed, Anton found himself standing among familiar faces: his brother’s friends, and Michael.