Surviving These Unfair Scenarios [LITRPG - DIMENSION HOPPING]

The energy around Moyan began to coalesce, growing more uniform, yet without losing any of its immense intensity. It was as if he were beginning to assert absolute control over a power originating from some unknown, unfathomable source. Magnus, watching this transformation, started to sweat, his massive hands clenching, and his teeth grinding forcefully. He was visibly tense, a state never before seen on the formidable leader of the 'Noob Reapers'.

A fleeting, sharp flashback pierced the man's mind, a raw, painful memory. He had experienced this sensation before, this profound, terrifying shift in power. Indeed, as he had told Drake during their brutal combat, at some point in the past, Magnus and his team, long before they even bore the infamous name 'Noob Reapers', had faced 'Team Eden'... The outcome had been catastrophic, a true nightmare. His entire team had been utterly annihilated by a single user from Eden, a woman of terrifying power.

Only Magnus and Tobias had survived, saved not by their strength, but by her sheer, inexplicable pity. He still vividly recalled that suffocating feeling: the alien, unknown energy emanating from beings they called "Patrons", and the overwhelming power of an "Authority" that rendered all their efforts useless. He remembered, with a burning impotence, watching all his companions being cut down with extreme ease, their lives extinguished in moments… He had cursed himself then, cursed his own weakness, his inability to save anyone. It was in that crucible of despair that he had forged his current philosophy: the only way to never suffer such loss again was to break the barrier of the impossible, to reach the absolute pinnacle of power with his [Make it Fair!] option.

Instead of accepting naive novices into his team, he had resolved to recruit only the strongest, those he himself had defeated, those who understood the brutal realities of the system. After all, if they were merely a group of powerful strangers working together, it would not cause him pain to lose them, would it? The chilling logic had hardened his soul.

Magnus's trauma was visibly etched into his movements and expression like a raw, reopened wound. Yet, even as his body trembled with the resurgence of that ancient fear, the system screen that had appeared before Moyan did not lie. This individual was not a member of 'Team Eden'. He was truly part of a team called 'Outsiders'. The contradiction gnawed at Magnus's mind. How, then, had Moyan managed to forge a pact with a Patron? The power, the sheer, undeniable Authority, was identical… Magnus slowly, and painstakingly, began to reincorporate himself, pushing down the rising tide of his past fear, even as a final, ominous system screen materialized before Moyan.

Immediately, Moyan launched himself towards Magnus, a blur of motion, though not with the absolute, blinding speed he had displayed against Thomas. This slight restraint left Magnus a mere sliver of reaction time, a precious moment for his battle-honed instincts to kick in.

The combat that ensued was a mesmerizing, terrifying dance between Moyan's impossible martial perfection and Magnus's desperate, overwhelming arsenal. The young boy launched himself forward, not with a roar, but with a fluid, almost casual grace. He utilized no skills, no shimmering auras or glowing weapons. His combat was pure, unaugmented, superhuman martial artistry, each motion a testament to a perfection that transcended mere human limits. His lead hand, moving with the deceptive speed of a viper, shot out in a straight, precise punch aimed directly at Magnus's sternum.

The man, roaring with a mix of fury and raw power, met Moyan's charge. He unleashed a furious torrent of searing, solar-like energy from his palms, [Solar Flare Incineration], aimed to engulf his opponent. Simultaneously, he manifested his [Phantom Blade Dance] skill, dozens of ethereal, razor-sharp blades shimmering into existence around him, attacking Moyan from every conceivable angle in a complex, unpredictable pattern. The young man's punch, instead of impacting, simply shifted. His body became a ripple, his leading foot pivoting with impossible speed as he slipped under the torrent of solar fire, the searing energy passing harmlessly over his head. His other hand, meanwhile, came up in a blur, catching a dozen Phantom Blades between his fingers and deflecting them with a silent, almost dismissive flick of his wrist.

Magnus, surprised by the effortless evasion, immediately followed up. His 'Gravity Well Gauntlet' pulsed, a dark energy emanating from his arm, and a localized pocket of crushing, fluctuating gravity instantly appeared directly around Moyan, attempting to pin him down and halt his perfect motion. Moyan, however, responded with a casual elegance. His body seemed to ripple, expanding and contracting imperceptibly as it adapted to the sudden shifts in gravity. He performed a single, impossibly swift step, a fluid motion that left no trace.

Magnus roared, his teeth grinding in frustration. He manifested [Arcane Rune Scribe], quickly tracing glowing, complex runes in the air with his massive fingers. These intricate symbols exploded into sudden, fiery traps as Moyan stepped near; however, he just weaved through the chaotic barrage. He didn't avoid them; rather, he danced through them… He would execute a lightning-fast side step, gliding backward across the arena floor as a wall of fire erupted before him, his steps silent and impossible to understand.

Magnus then charged, swinging his 'Nullheart Blade', humming with pervasive Void Ki. The massive greatsword descended in a brutal, arcing blow. Moyan met the blade not with a parry, but with a bare forearm, deflecting the impossibly powerful strike with a casual ease that caused no recoil, nor any damage to his body. His movements were economical and devastating, clearly stating that he wasn't even trying.

Moyan received no discernible damage throughout this relentless exchange. Not a single scratch marked his skin, and he did not show the slightest sign of fatigue; his breaths were even, his movements fluid, his composure absolute. He was an unyielding force, a living embodiment of unadulterated combat prowess, and he began to visibly "play" with Magnus.

Moyan approached the enemy team leader with effortless speed multiple times, closing the distance in the blink of an eye, bypassing all of Magnus's layered defenses. He would weave through a barrage of phantom blades with a casual lean, step through solar flares with impossible grace, or parry the dark blade with even his fingertip, and in each of these moments, he delivered incredibly powerful blows to Magnus's limbs, his fists striking with the force of actual gunshots, leaving the man reeling, visibly wounded, his chest heaving, and his body buckling under the impacts.

Yet, Moyan was always careful to avoid activating the 'Critical Damage' threshold that would end the match, a subtle, chilling precision in his brutality. He merely toyed with him, his perfect control over his superhuman abilities making Magnus's desperation seem like a crude, flailing display, like a child throwing a tantrum against an unbreakable wall.

In the skybox, Angela and Drake watched the unfolding spectacle, their faces etched with a profound mixture of disbelief and horror. Angela was utterly speechless as her mind was completely overwhelmed by the impossible display of power; her brow furrowed, and her lips parted in silent shock. Drake, however, understood something. He had witnessed a similar level of perfection once before, a mastery that transcended mere skill.

"He's a perfect martial artist."

Drake murmured, his voice low, filled with awe.

"For some reason, he reminds me of my master, Park Zhen. The way he moves... that seems Murim-style martial arts."

He shook his head in bewildered admiration. Angela finally found her voice, her gaze fixed on the impossible figure of Moyan in the arena.

"But… Who is that guy Moyan Varrick, really?"

She whispered, her voice strained, a raw question born of profound bewilderment.

Back into the battle, Magnus, battered and increasingly desperate, began to lose mobility in parts of his body. His movements grew sluggish, his attacks less precise due to the increasing damage. He launched another barrage of [Arcane Rune Scribe] traps, but his fingers trembled, and the runes were less vibrant and effective than normal. The old, suffocating feeling of impotence, the same trauma he had experienced against 'Team Eden', vividly returned. He roared, a raw cry of frustration; he screamed, he flailed, desperately trying to land a hit, to even slow Moyan down, but nothing worked.

Moyan was simply too superior; his every desperate effort met with effortless, disdainful evasion or block. The realization of his utter helplessness and his complete lack of control was a torment that eclipsed even the physical pain.

Quite wounded, his face contorted in a grimace of agony, Magnus desperately tried to use a Plot Device, his hand reaching for the activation of something that could help him, his eyes wide with a frantic hope. But in an instant, Moyan appeared directly in front of him, his movement blurring into existence as if he had simply stepped through reality. The guy's hand shot out, not to strike Magnus, but to calmly, effortlessly, shatter the system window that announced the Plot Device's activation.

He broke it as if it were a physical object, denying the activation itself, rendering Magnus's desperate gamble null and void… The shattered fragments of the holographic screen dissipated into shimmering dust. Magnus, witnessing this impossible act of system manipulation, could take no more. His face contorted in a mask of pure, desperate rage and terror, and he shrieked at Moyan.

"You monster!"

Moyan merely looked at him with an unsettling tranquility, his gaze calm, his lips curved in a subtle, knowing smile.

"Magnus Thorne…"

He said in a level voice, devoid of malice, yet chillingly authoritative.

"You don't know the true monsters of this system. You have no idea of the true horrors of this reality… But do not worry. We are here to end all of that. A process in which even someone like you will finally be free."

His words were a promise, a chilling vision of a world beyond Magnus's comprehension… A minute later, with Magnus utterly defeated, with his body broken and helpless on the arena floor, Moyan decided that it was time to begin the next step, so for a couple more minutes, he dedicated himself to meticulously breaking more and more of his opponent's bones, slowly, deliberately, ensuring that Magnus suffered each fracturing agony.

His actions were cold and precise, but devoid of anger. Moyan's voice, calm and even, explained his actions to the groaning Magnus.

"This is all for the way you treated Kazue Rima."

He stated, each word punctuated by a sickening CRACK of bone as he twisted a limb.

"You knew you were far more powerful than her. Yet you chose not to end the combat quickly. You drew it out, deliberately, making her suffer for your own amusement."

Moyan's voice hardened subtly.

"So this is the same. A taste of your own methods, you can't argue against something you use as well, right?"

From the skybox of the 'Noob Reapers', all their team members watched the brutal, prolonged beating with lost expressions, their faces pale, unable to comprehend the sheer, overwhelming power and cold cruelty of their leader's opponent. Their previous arrogance had evaporated, replaced by wide-eyed horror and a profound, chilling silence.

Finally, after Magnus ceased responding due to the overwhelming accumulation of pain, with his body trembling, and tears were streaming from his eyes, his voice was reduced to a faint, choked whisper

"I-I'm s-sorry…"

Moyan finally stopped. He sighed, a soft, almost weary sound, then stood in an instant, like after having finished a long overdue work. And then, with a powerful, effortless movement, he launched a kick so potent that the very arena floor trembled, massive cracks spiderwebbing outwards from the point of impact. Magnus's body, already broken beyond recognition, began to rapidly disintegrate, shimmering into fine, iridescent dust. A pair of system screens materialized in the air, confirming his utter defeat.

The automatic commentator's voice, now clear and strong, began to announce the final result of the team battle, its booming pronouncements echoing throughout the vast Coliseum. Moments later, the System initiated the distribution of the wagered prizes.

Moyan was swiftly transported to the skybox, reappearing amidst Angela, Drake, Katya, and the others. Upon his arrival, both Angela and Drake instinctively recoiled a step, their bodies tensing at the same time that both raised their guards. Moyan, noticing their wary postures, offered a small, reassuring smile.

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"Whoa… There's no need to be like that. I am not your enemy."

He stated calmly in his smooth voice. Drake, without lowering his guard, and with his gaze sharp and questioning, finally articulated the unspoken question hanging in the air.

"Who are you, really?"

Drake demanded, his voice low and firm. Moyan merely offered a small, reassuring smile.

"I am no one important, truly."

He replied calmly.

"I merely want you all to know I am not here to cause you problems. Finding you all in the casino was a coincidence, but one that has ultimately proven beneficial for everyone. You've all obtained what you desired, haven't you?"

Neither Angela nor Drake seemed entirely convinced by his casual explanation; their expressions remained guarded, but they also had no other option. Moyan then continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

"But it would be best if you withdrew from the Coliseum as soon as possible. Take advantage of the other team leader's current state. Even with his wounds healed by the system's transfer, he will take time to regain full consciousness, and the rest of his team will be too shaken and frightened to attempt to stop you."

Angela and Drake exchanged glances, a silent agreement passing between them, and both nodded. They then supported Meera, helping her to her feet, and Katya gently lifted the still-unconscious Kazue, cradling her in her arms. Together, they all began to leave the Coliseum.

When they finally left the big building, they traversed a few streets and did not stop until they reached a spot somewhat secluded but not entirely hidden, a quiet corner away from the main thoroughfares of the Trade Nexus. There, they settled down, resting for a moment.

Meera, having finally recovered her breath, though still feeling a lingering weakness, looked at Moyan with a gaze filled with complete distrust.

"That's enough nonsense."

She stated, her voice firm.

"Tell us why you were really there with us, despite being someone so powerful."

Moyan reiterated that it had simply been a coincidence, but Meera merely scoffed.

"Bullshit!"

She retorted, her voice flat.

"I have enough experience in the system and with its users to know that was far too much of a coincidence to be mere chance."

Moyan sighed, conceding a small point.

"At least the part about meeting was real; it's not as if I went to the Trade Nexus specifically for you. Some coincidences simply happened."

He admitted without an issue, and Angela, seeing an opening, attempted to ask about the Authority Moyan had displayed, noting that, as Magnus had pointed out, it was a power typically seen only among users of 'Team Eden'. But as she began to formulate her question, Moyan's gaze fixed on her… His eyes held a knowing intensity, as if he could read her very thoughts, and with that silent look, he effectively silenced her. Angela merely pressed her lips into a thin line, remaining quiet.

Moyan then advised them to rest, but to leave the Nexus soon to avoid further problems, as he was certain that the fight in the Coliseum had been witnessed by several other powerful teams at least. Meanwhile, he would withdraw to meet his own team elsewhere… No one spoke. The atmosphere was too tense with unspoken questions for any of that. However, just before Moyan departed, he turned towards Drake.

"Oh, right, before I forget."

He said, his voice casual. And before Drake could react, Moyan took his hands, a gesture that caused Angela and Katya to open their eyes in surprise, and Meera to bring a hand to her mouth in a gesture of pleased astonishment. A system window immediately materialized.

Everyone stared at the screen, stunned. Drake, especially, looked utterly bewildered. Moyan released his hands and explained.

"Use those points with your team. You need to arm yourselves and upgrade as much as you possibly can, and as soon as possible. Because if you don't, the only thing that awaits you is a meaningless death."

His voice hardened, a stark warning in his tone. He then looked at Falk, who was perched on Drake's head, the mechanical bird visibly surprised by the unexpected attention.

"And you…"

Moyan said to Falk.

"Make sure to utilize that. Leverage it as much as you possibly can."

He then explained calmly.

"The reason the 'Noob Reapers' attempted to acquire you, little bird, is because you are a character with an S-rank soul, essentially an S-rank item that is completely untapped. You must have been a very important character in your home scenario."

Drake's eyes widened, and he looked from Moyan to Falk, utterly surprised.

"An S-rank soul?"

He breathed. Falk's optical sensors flickered rapidly, and he chirped.

"Me?"

His mechanical voice was filled with astonishment, clearly sharing Drake's disbelief at the revelation of his own true value.

Finally, Moyan began to depart, his form moving with his usual casual grace.

"Oh, and tell Kazue, it was nice seeing her again."

He said as he walked away, his voice carrying easily. Katya turned to look at him, confused. Drake, equally bewildered, managed to ask.

"What do you mean, 'again'? Hey!"

But Moyan merely lifted an arm without breaking his stride, waving a dismissive farewell. The group was left standing there, surrounded by the bustling crowds of the Nexus, with more questions than answers. Drake looked at Angela.

"Now what?"

He asked, his voice weary. Angela sighed, a heavy sound.

"Even if I don't like it, what Moyan said is true. It's best if we retreat from the Nexus as soon as possible."

She replied, a decision quickly accepted by all. They didn't feel entirely well about the encounter, but at least they had found what they were looking for, and more, so they couldn't complain. One by one, they began to disconnect from the Nexus. But before Meera did, she looked at Drake.

"Let me know what happens with my brother through the [Friend List], please."

She urged. Drake nodded, offered his thanks, and then everyone disappeared from the location, returning to their respective lobbies.

—————————
Far from the echoing sounds of the Trade Nexus' central plaza, Moyan walked with a casual grace through the labyrinthine streets of the commercial district outskirts with a faint, unfamiliar tune humming from his lips. Until a deep, masculine voice, devoid of physical presence but resonating directly within Moyan's mind, broke through his internal musings.

"Have you finished with your little adventure?"

The voice asked in a calm and sleepy tone.

"Yes."

Moyan replied, his voice smooth and clear.

"My apologies for the delay. I just happened to run into an old acquaintance, quite by chance."

Before he could elaborate, a sharper, distinctly feminine voice, laced with a playful irritation, interrupted him.

"That's not true!"

The voice chided.

"We saw you! You followed them from the moment they arrived in the Nexus. And when you saw them enter the casino, you ran to the second level before them, looking quite desperate, I might add."

The voice held a clear intent to provoke and tease Moyan.

A new figure emerged from the shifting shadows of a nearby alley, stepping into the vibrant light of the Nexus street. A young man with disheveled black hair and a perpetually tired expression on his face. He wore casual clothes, his shoulders slumped with a weariness that seemed to emanate from his very soul, yet his eyes, though tired, held a sharp intelligence. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"It doesn't matter that you took your time."

He said, his voice a low, resigned murmur.

"After all, we weren't in any hurry, and we still had to search everywhere for what we came to find. That could have taken us days, you know. Endless… Mind-numbing days..."

Immediately following David, a second individual chuckled, a friendly, amicable sound. Another young man of considerable height, with neatly styled black hair and clear, rectangular glasses perched on his nose. He possessed an elegant black school uniform, and his expression was calm and slightly amused. He adjusted his glasses with a thoughtful finger.

"There's no reason to be surprised that a man would wish to visit a loved one."

He remarked, his voice soft, yet resonating with a quiet understanding.

"Indeed, I will have to do so myself at some point, before all of this finally comes to an end. There is someone I simply must pay a visit to."

Finally, the source of the persistent female voice became visible. She stepped forward from behind Jeongu Kim, a very young girl with bright blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She was clad in gleaming silver plate armor, perfectly fitted to her small frame, an actual little kid. Her expression was one of clear exasperation, a slight frown creasing her brow. She huffed, placing her armored hands on her hips.

"I simply do not understand the reason why anyone would waste time on things like 'reuniting with a loved one',"

She stated, her voice clear and precise, utterly devoid of sentimentality.

"At the end of the day, even we, in this improvised team, are only together out of sheer convenience, so I don't get it."

Moyan offered another apology, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in his usual charismatic smile. As he began to walk forward, slowly closing the distance to his waiting team, his figure subtly transformed. His hair, previously swept back, loosened, cascading around his face. His eyes deepened, shifting from their usual sharp gaze to a profound, almost primal crimson. His musculature subtly increased, expanding beneath his clothes, hinting at a vast, underlying power. His casual walk transformed into a more purposeful stride, his very presence radiating an ancient, undeniable authority. This was not a transformation; it was a shedding of a disguise. His true form, more potent and commanding, began to assert itself.

He stopped before his teammates with a smile full of quiet satisfaction on his lips.

"To compensate for my delay, I have returned with precisely what we came to find. The 'Key to the LionHeart's Royal Tombstone'."

He stated, his voice now deeper, richer, resonating with a newfound gravity. He held up his hand, and a shimmering, intricate key, seemingly forged of solidified light, materialized in his palm. His teammates—David, Jeongu, and Noelle—stared, their eyes wide with profound surprise. They had not expected him to succeed so quickly, or so decisively. Noelle had her pragmatic gaze momentarily broken.

"Ahem… In that case, I retract what I said. One must applaud efficiency when one sees it."

She conceded, a rare hint of approval in her voice. Soonly after, Jeongu Kim chuckled in genuine amusement.

"That's perfect."

He said, adjusting his glasses. And David Smith, the weary one, let out a profound sigh of relief, his shoulders slumping.

"Thank God. We won't have to stay in this place indefinitely after all."

He murmured. And finally Moyan, although that was not his real name, now fully returned to his formidable form, simply kept his smile.

"Then we should contact Lauren as soon as possible."

He stated, storing the key again and walking with his teammates.