As the silhouettes of the three departing comrades vanished into the horizon, Lawson withdrew his gaze and turned to those remaining.
"Alright, 'System' has bailed, the others are sent off, and now it's time to discuss our next move..." Lawson scratched the back of his head, his voice tinged with a hint of bewilderment.
"To be honest, I'm still processing this. This sudden awakening of 'Authority'... it's about to fry my brain's CPU. This is way beyond my pay grade."
The words had barely left his mouth when Dodge let out a thunderous slap against his own thigh.
"Bro! Since you're holding that supreme god-tier power now, what are we waiting for? Let's head out and push the map! We'll sweep every enemy, conquer the towns, and rescue the world! Gwahahaha!" Dodge puffed out his chest, his face muscles twitching with so much excitement they practically tied themselves in knots.
THWACK—!!!
A heavy blow brought his grand ambitions to a grinding halt.
A massive, red lump swelled on Dodge's head at a visible speed.
The one to suppress this "tyrant" was Katie—her fist was still smoking from the friction of the impact.
Katie dispelled her killing intent, crossed her arms, and snorted.
"Senior Dodge, do you think this is some Real-Time Strategy game like Command & Conquer? Our priority is the reconstruction of Nova Star Town. If we leave now and the Shadow Shifters slip in through the back door to tear down our walls, then what?"
"Exactly, exactly," Phyllis nodded like a woodpecker.
"As the saying goes, 'To do a good job, one must first sharpen one's tools.' If we don't solidify our foundation, talking about conquering the world is just empty air."
Dodge dug into his ear, looking lost. Fancy idioms like those had been returned to his teachers the moment he stepped out of high school.
He grumbled, "I didn't see that coming, Phyllis. For a high schooler, you sure use some profound words. You must have been a top student."
Phyllis twitched her lips awkwardly.
"Isn't that... just common sense for middle schoolers?"
"That's what happens when you spend your school days scouting for the prettiest girls and the newest games instead of studying," Katie pivoted into ruthless roast mode.
"Look at you now. Your IQ is basically hovering at the 'F-tier' level."
The verbal barb hit Dodge right in his vitals.
He instantly deflated like a punctured balloon, scurrying to a corner to draw circles in the dirt.
Only his "loyal disciple" Luther leaned in with a sincere face.
"Master, don't be sad. They say when you hit rock bottom, there's nowhere to go but up. You've reached the absolute floor—you literally can't get any worse. Every step forward from here is a step toward becoming invincible! Keep it up!"
The light reflected off Luther's glasses with a scholarly, cold brilliance. Dodge, hearing this "comfort," nearly choked on his own rage.
Watching the farce, Lawson finally regained his focus.
"Enough! It's decided. We start with town construction. Everything here has to start from zero." He strode down the hill with a wave of his hand.
"Let's find Uncle Rickman and see how the survivors are doing."
When they arrived at the central square of East Sector 3, a vibrant tableau greeted them.
The hellish, charred ruins were gone, replaced by the hustle and bustle of a town reborn from the ashes.
Children chased each other through clean streets, their silver laughter dispelling the gloom of the apocalypse.
Strong men toiled under the sun, their bronze skin gleaming with the sweat of labor.
Not far off, a booming, powerful voice pierced through the construction noise.
"Great job, lads! Put some back into it, these shops are almost ready to reopen! You there—add another coat of paint to that pillar!"
It was Uncle Rickman. He stood by the scaffolding, looking ten years younger.
"TAKE THIS! BEAR STRIKE—!"
Dodge let out a roar, lunging at Rickman like a brown bear in heat.
This was the father and son's unique, primal way of greeting. However, a "Master Class Counter" was about to be served.
Rickman's eyes sharpened; his massive hand clamped onto Dodge's wrist like a steel vice. With a surge of torque, he delivered a textbook shoulder throw.
THUD!
Dodge traced a perfect arc through the air before "blossoming" on the ground.
"You brat, your movements are still sluggish. Go back and practice more! Hero boy! Gwahahaha!" Rickman laughed heartily, extending a calloused hand.
Dodge took his father's hand to stand up, but his gaze inadvertently fell on the palm—covered in thick calluses and jagged scars.
His heart twinged. "Dad... your hands... these wounds..."
Rickman pulled his hand back dismissively.
"These? These are medals from when I pulled the trigger to blast those monsters' heads off to protect everyone! It's just dead skin, doesn't hurt a bit! Hahaha!"
The more Rickman laughed, the more Dodge's heart ached.
He realized then just how many life-and-death gambles this man had survived to maintain a living space for these unarmed people.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted behind Dodge.
"Mr. Lawson! Our hero is back!" "Mr. Lawson, thank you for saving us!"
Children dropped their toys, and workers stopped their tools.
A tide of people swarmed Lawson. In the eyes of those he had saved at the risk of his own life, Lawson—the man who stood tall when death cast its shadow—shone brighter than even Rickman. He was the true Light.
"Wait... hold on! Everyone, I can't breathe!" Lawson struggled in the crowd, finally poking his head out.
He gestured frantically toward the others. "Look! The real heroes are behind me! They are the ones who took down the mobs and liberated the East Sector! I was just... passing by! Haha... ha..."
Whether it was a tactical retreat or innate humility, Lawson's words successfully distracted the crowd.
He slipped away, sweating, to the Rickman and went straight to the point.
"Uncle, I'm sorry to interrupt. How is the reconstruction coming along?"
"Little Law! Why talk business the moment we meet?" Rickman clapped him on the shoulder.
"We're ahead of schedule! Strangely enough, after the 'Area Reset,' everything seemed to just... pop back into place. We're just doing touch-up work. Look, those shops are prepping to open. Why do you ask?"
Lawson's expression turned solemn. "Uncle, we're here to officially inform you—Nova Star Town is completely liberated. The calamity has vanished. Everyone can return to their normal lives."
Rickman froze, then a light of pure joy exploded in his eyes.
"For real?! That's... that's a miracle! I have to let everyone know. Watch this!"
Rickman took a deep breath, utilizing a voice loud enough to shatter glass. He let out a roar toward the square:
"ALL HANDS—! LISTEN UP—! WE HAVE A MOMENTOUS ANNOUNCEMENT—! GATHER ROUND—!!!"
The roar was so powerful it reached the distant Sunrise Town.
Edith, who was wiping down a sports motorcycle she'd salvaged, felt a stir.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at the blue sky.
"I thought I heard a certain loudmouth... I'll go back and check once the final area is liberated."
She kicked the bike into gear and roared toward the last battlefield.
Back at the square, the citizens had lined up obediently.
This was Rickman's unique brand of leadership.
He stood on a high point and announced with the force of a mountain:
"Everyone! Our heroes have brought word—this town is liberated! You can say goodbye to living in fear! Go back to your homes! Live your lives!"
Cheers were about to erupt when Lawson stepped forward, adding a sharp warning:
"Please take note! This freedom is currently limited to the town's interior! The wilderness outside the gates is still perilous. Until a new order is established, do not wander far. Protect yourselves!"
Just as the joy reached its peak, disaster struck without warning.