Ch 177.
Matt’s puppet remained within the neighborhood, opting instead to seek refuge in a seemingly abandoned house. Once inside, it concentrated, crafting four additional puppets. As it did so, it observed its stats plummet to 42% of Matt’s total. Each of the newly formed puppets, no larger than golf balls, possessed one percent of Matt’s stats, making them surprisingly stronger than the average human. Though they were only on par with an early E rank individual, their diminutive size granted them agility and speed, enabling them to dart around as they began to gather information.
With this singular objective in mind, Matt’s puppet concealed itself, patiently awaiting the results of their investigation during the two days ahead. It hoped that the situation wouldn’t escalate to a point where intervention would be necessary to extract Maya and Matt’s mother should they choose to leave. However, it was confident that such a scenario was unlikely, knowing Maya wasn’t the type to voice concerns without sufficient evidence to back it up.
As two days slipped by and night fell once more, Matt’s puppet focused intently on the information it had gathered. It had been astute in its assumption that those on guard duty possessed various identification skills; some even exhibited the uncanny ability to detect lies, reminiscent of Paul. Unfortunately, while it had successfully identified who held authority, Matt’s puppet had not been able to gauge the true strength of these leaders or predict how they would respond to dissent. One thing was evident, though: no one dared to disregard their commands. The guards moved with a sense of urgency, as if their very lives depended on obeying the orders issued by one of the nine council members who had been established to maintain order.
However, the true power did not rest with the nine counselors; they merely acted as the front for a shadowy group of five individuals. Each of these five was at least level 25, based on Matt's observations, and typically only two or three were present within the settlement at any given time. The others roamed the surrounding area, either scouting the area or eliminating any threats they encountered, whether they be hostile creatures or securing potential food sources from others. It became increasingly apparent that the five were not a cohesive unit; their conflicting orders indicated a tenuous alliance forged out of necessity rather than camaraderie.
Matt’s puppet had also been vigilant in monitoring the activities of Maya and Matt’s mother during this period, and it was with a sense of regret that he realized neither of them was acting in his best interest. Maya had openly reported Matt’s puppet’s offer to a council member, leaving uncertainty about whether the information had reached anyone beyond that individual. There remained a possibility that she was simply trying to assemble a group to escape, with the counselor being someone she trusted. In stark contrast, Matt’s mother had taken to burning photographs and mementos from happier times, a ritual that seemed to reflect her despair. Additionally, he discovered that she lacked popularity among the other residents, with more than one person aware of Matt’s organization.
That last revelation didn’t shock Matt’s puppet; the system had broadcasted the news of Matt's organization founding to everyone and their mothers. What did catch his attention was the resentment directed toward her, a sentiment that puzzled him. As the moment approached for Matt’s puppet to return to his mother’s home, he noticed a crowd of around one hundred people gathered, their murmurs rising like a low tide. Maya and Matt’s mother stood at the center, their faces flushed with anger, on the brink of a physical confrontation as he eavesdropped on their heated exchange.
“I’ve said it a thousand times, none of you are going to use me to attach yourselves to Matt!” his mother shouted, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tension. “I hope he doesn’t show and just leaves.”
“What is your problem?” Maya shot back, her frustration palpable. “All we want is to figure out how to progress to the point where we can safely live and prosper in this new world.”
“Ha! He said it himself: ‘Grow strong.’ If you think you can do that in his shadow, you’re fools. None of you actually want the kind of power he talks about. You all believe you can find a way to earn money and be useful without risking your lives fighting monsters. Well, that’s impossible, and deep down, you know it. All that matters right now is power, and none of you have it or the drive to pursue it.”
“If that’s what you really think, then why aren’t you striving to do so?” questioned a figure Matt’s puppet recognized as the counselor Maya had spoken to earlier. “All we ask is that you don’t stop us from trying to convince him to take us with him.”
“I don’t plan to survive,” Matt’s mother declared, her tone heavy with defeat. “All I want is for my son Peter to come visit, and then I’ll be ready to move on and join their father.”
“Someone who has given up on living shouldn’t lecture—”
“You all can shut up,” Matt’s puppet interrupted, cutting off the counselor. “You’re all sounding like idiots to me. Mom, who the hell are you to dictate how others should live when you know that what you’re doing isn’t truly living? Maya, and whoever else is here, you’re welcome to follow me, but I can’t guarantee that all of you will make it. I can’t protect each of you while battling whatever comes our way. You’ll be taking your own lives into your own hands. And even after we reach our destination, do you really think those with lower stats can compete with those who have higher stats doing the same jobs? Also, if you’re not at least half my level, forget about coming along.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“And what, may I ask, is your level?” the counselor inquired, skepticism lacing his voice.
“Over 50. If you want more information than that, you’ll need to reach my main body, as I’m just a weakened copy of him. If I weren’t, I would never have stepped out to talk with all of you; I wouldn’t want to fight my way through you if you decided to kill me for some reason.”
“Why would you think that we would want to kill you?” Maya asked, her confusion evident. “Keep you here, maybe, but kill you?”
“The world is a dark place, and two of those I was with during most of the integration have had others try to do exactly that to them. The monsters you’ll encounter in the dungeon may be terrifying, but they pale in comparison to the threats posed by other people.”
“We are well aware of the dangers that other humans can pose; that’s been the case since before all of this,” the counselor replied. “It’s why we are trying to keep the few who are strong here happy.”
“Is that so?” came a new female voice, cutting through the tension. “If that’s the case, what the hell are you all doing right now?”
Matt’s puppet observed a muscular woman with sun-kissed skin and short, tousled brown hair, clad in makeshift armor that appeared to be fashioned from repurposed baking sheets. The armor was a patchwork, covering her torso down to the upper part of her thighs, layered over cloth with sizable gaps between each sheet. Despite its haphazard appearance, Matt’s puppet could tell it had been crafted for utility; the dents and scuffs told tales of past encounters, hinting that it could withstand at least one solid blow.
“I take it you’re one of the five leaders managing these neighborhoods,” Matt’s puppet remarked, his tone steady.
“And what of it?” she replied, crossing her arms defiantly.
“Nothing, just stating facts,” he answered, maintaining his gaze. “I want to ensure I know who I’m speaking with.”
“Huh, name’s Penelope. So, you’re the Matt I’ve heard whispers about. Tell me, how did you manage to get the system to recognize your organization?”
“You simply need to accomplish something that earns you merit points while not being affiliated with an existing organization,” Matt’s puppet explained, unconcerned about revealing the information. “For us, it was clearing an instance dungeon within a larger established dungeon. The only other way I know to earn merit points is by calming a raging dungeon.”
“Wait, you actually answered?” Penelope asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That was too quick to be a lie unless you were anticipating the question. So, how do you plan to convince me it’s true?”
“Why should I care about that?” he countered, shrugging slightly.
“Oh, do you think you’re stronger than I am?” she challenged, a glint of competitiveness in her eyes.
“Who knows? Are you suggesting you want to fight me over it?” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“I figure I should at least exchange a few blows,” Penelope shrugged, her expression shifting to one of determination. “That way, when the others ask what happened, I can at least say I tried to capture you.”
“Pointless,” scoffed Matt’s puppet, shaking his head. “I would need to be present for you to capture me. Besides, even if you manage to defeat this puppet, it would only make things personal and prompt me to send half a dozen more like it to teach you a lesson.”
“Fucking hell, that is just broken,” Penelope remarked, a mix of admiration and frustration in her voice. “Still, I have to save some face.”
With that, Matt’s puppet swiftly dodged to the side as Penelope lunged forward, her fist aimed squarely at his face but ultimately missing its mark. It was evident that her speed surpassed that of Matt’s puppet, yet it managed to react just in time, transforming its arms into sharp blades and swiping at her to create some much-needed distance. Penelope's eyes widened in surprise, mirroring the astonishment of those watching as Matt’s puppet launched a counterattack, grazing her arms with quick slashes and leaving a deep cut in one of the makeshift sheets of armor covering her chest.
“Well, look at that! You can actually fight, though you’re kind of slow,” Penelope remarked, stepping back after her armor sustained damage. “Looks like baking sheets can’t withstand anything with real power. Oh well, still, tell me how I can get arms like that, would you?”
“Sorry, but they’re a bit of a specialty for me, and as far as I know, not just anyone can acquire them, no matter what they do,” Matt’s puppet replied coolly. “Now, are you finished, or just looking to chat?”
Chuckling lightly, Penelope began to untie a few knots on her armor, which then clattered to the ground, revealing her clad only in tight pants and a sports bra. “Like what you see?” she teased, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Tell you what, if you beat me—”
“Don’t finish that statement,” Matt’s puppet interjected firmly. “I already have enough women trying to get my attention; I don’t need or want another.”
“Oh, interesting,” Penelope said, her curiosity piqued. “Well then, I guess I can just beat you up and make you wish—”
Matt’s puppet was finished with words as it lunged forward, but it quickly realized that Penelope was being hindered by the armor she had just discarded. Her speed surged, catching him off guard as he began to absorb blows while prioritizing the protection of his vital areas. In a calculated move, he allowed her to strike him squarely in the face, only to transfer the pain and damage back to her an instant later, eliciting a sharp cry from her lips.
“What the hell was that?!” Penelope exclaimed, bewildered.
Matt’s puppet remained silent, instead executing a swift maneuver by sweeping its right leg, morphing it into a blade, and slashing at the back of her left ankle. The attack opened a deep gash, forcing her to stumble backward. As Matt’s puppet reverted to its normal form, Penelope landed hard on her rear, wincing as she looked up at him, her expression shifting to one of determination as she assumed a defensive stance.
“Don’t worry, I only aimed to disable you,” Matt’s puppet remarked coolly. “There are countless ways to engage in combat, and I’ve likely witnessed more than most here on Earth. Just so you know, if you focus your energy on healing your wounds, it will drain your stamina in the process. Those little injuries should take you over an hour to mend, especially if you’re still figuring things out.”
“I know how to heal,” Penelope shot back, irritation creeping into her voice. “But why did it feel like I punched myself in the face?”
Matt’s puppet chose not to respond, instead turning to glance at Matt’s mother, preparing for a difficult conversation ahead.
