Athanasia: My Hacker System-Chapter 125: Humans Are a Fallen Race!

"This map..."

John’s remark and the response from Lanmar looked a bit weird to others. Yet none breathed loudly or even said a word. John asked Lanmar to prove his claims, and the latter simply touched both hands that were tied behind his back, using a storage device, it seemed. A large, shimmering brown map appeared next.

The map was massive to John and others. To the Bulltors, it might seem in good size, but to the humans, it was enough to cover their entire dining table back at their dorms at the academy. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

In this map, John and others spotted lots of detailed things. The areas were well drawn to match the map John had, with much more data included within it about five other areas, not like how John’s map was greyed out.

It showed terrain elevations, tree locations, and different races’ spots marked without telling more about their identities. Looking at this map made John’s map look like a child’s sketch.

Just as John was leaning on the map, studying it, a notification popped in front of him, one that he decided to ignore for now.

[Ding! You came into possession of a valuable, highly detailed map!]

[Ding! You can burn half of your Mental Points, absorb this map, and update yours!]

[Ding! Do you wish to proceed? Y\N]

’No, I’ll do it later,’ John thought, dismissing the prompt. He recalled all too well how pathetic and weak he looked after burning half of his Mental Points before.

Aside from the immense worry he’d cause to his friends, he was currently the only person truly threatening these Bulltors.

If he showed even a moment of weakness or collapsed into a coma now, they’d definitely make the best use of it to snap their bindings and crush everyone’s skulls.

"As you can see," Lanmar said, his tone regaining a sliver of that insufferable pride as he saw the humans marvelling at the map, "there are only ten areas. Nothing shall be north of us! And yet..."

He moved his eyes around, sparkling with more curiosity than ever. Like him, John and others wanted to know the reason for their area not being part of the official ten-area apocalyptic trial.

"We’ll discuss it later," John said, reaching out and rolling the map, ending up with a tall, cylindrical, heavy roll that was even taller than himself. "For now, let’s talk more about you."

He stored the map in his inventory, making the look on Lanmar’s face change slightly. "Tell me, did you know beforehand that you’ll be coming here, or were you just randomly selected by whoever is behind these trials?"

John had his own doubts before about the system and the nature of their arrival. He needed to know if the System was part of the overseers of the trials.

"First of all, there aren’t known figures to facilitate these trials," Lanmar said, quickly getting over the loss of his map as if he were certain he’d take control of it later after killing John.

"The trials are self-induced, self-run! Some claim it’s the will of the Source Code World, others claim it’s nature’s course. Yet above all, of course, we know beforehand that we are coming here. After all, all of us went through rough training and tough selection to end up here! We are the elite, the strongest of our world, sent to claim new territory."

"What?!!" Hearing this made everyone on John’s side exclaim in surprise.

The humans had been snatched from Athansia, thrown into the fog with no preparations or warning. To hear that other races were prepared, trained, and volunteered for this was a bitter pill to swallow.

As for John himself, he threw away his doubts about the involvement of the system in the trials of other races and looked at a different point in Lanmar’s words.

"So you have like a gate or something," John paused, trying to imagine the sort of large portal in the Bulltors’ world through which they could pass to enter this pocket trial world. "And your selected people will simply pass through it to get here? At a time of your choosing?"

"That’s exactly what we have," Lanmar paused, a smirk playing on his lips as he realised how different the humans’ arrival must have been. "It’s understandable not get such a privilege. After all, fallen races like you don’t enjoy this kind of treatment! You are the losers, the ones tossed into the furnace to see if anything survives the fire..."

"Fallen races again," Ricky muttered, his face contorting with rage. He was growing tired of hearing such a lowly remark about humans, including himself. "What does this nasty word even mean? Why do you keep using it like it’s a fact of nature?"

"Don’t blame me, kiddo," Lanmar evilly grinned. With his ivory teeth, he looked truly savage. "This is all your race’s fault!"

John didn’t know why, but hearing these words drove back the bitter experience he had before with Mark back at the prison. Mark had once said the same words about humans.

"A fallen race," Lanmar continued, his voice dropping into a low growl, "means a race without an anchor! See, in the big ongoing apocalypse, each race competed and secured at least one pocket at the very beginning of this apocalypse.

Races that controlled at least one area will enjoy the privilege of having a portal linked to their world, through which they can organise their forces and pick the best like us. But in your case, the early humans who came here, and those who came later on till now, failed to secure even one area!

That’s why you are considered a fallen race! After all, you have zero chance of going through the apocalypse and winning anything from it..."

Lanmar kept chatting for a few minutes about this point, and not even John tried to stop him. Anything he said was brand new to all, and they learnt a ton from his blabbering. The concept of winning an entire area to secure a portal between this world and Athanasia changed everything in their eyes.

"That means..." John turned his eyes among his friends, "If we are a fallen race, like us, humans, we’d get randomly picked, right?"