But that wasn't all. The information that followed right under the main announcement left a deep frown on Akhil's face. At first, he wasn't sure if it was going to be exactly the same as the one from the game, but seeing that it was, Akhil couldn't help but suck his teeth in annoyance.

{Minor Sub-Scenario}

{Title: King's Selection}

{Description: The time of war is close at hand. Division cannot be a hindrance to progress... A King must rise and take control of the district.}

{Clearing Conditions: Obtain the Leader's Emblem, etched in the heart of the Dark Mountains. Only one will come out victorious. Once the Emblem has been claimed, the timer begins to tick; whoever has the Emblem last will become the ruler of the district!}

{Reward: Full control of the district. None shall disobey the Ruler, +100,000 MUT coins. Unique ability. New Title.}

{Main Sub-Scenario}

{Title: Find the Culprit}

{Description: It is time for war. The discord has reached its pinnacle; the nations will clash... But the Supernaturals have granted the people one last opportunity. You have failed to see through the schemes of the Titan, but all hope is not yet lost. One more chance to make up for all your mistakes.... Find the culprit before the problem escalates further. The Titan has yet to fully evolve.}

{Clearing Conditions: You have one more chance to catch the culprit.}**

{Time Limit: 72 hours}

{Penalty: ???}

{Rewards: The Third Scenario is automatically skipped}

Akhil frowned, the urgency of the situation slamming into him. The system had just confirmed that the Dwarves were now an active threat and given them a ticking clock to solve the underlying mystery of the Titan of Discord's sabotage. The two simultaneous scenarios—one forcing a deadly power struggle, the other demanding an investigation—meant the Supernaturals were demanding unity and quick action under the most extreme pressure.

"I guess we have to get to the root of this before it's too late," Akhil stated firmly, his earlier exhaustion now overridden by intense focus. "This King's Selection is just another distraction. The Culprit is the only thing that matters."

"I agree, but where do we start?" Langdon asked, perplexed. This double scenario was a difficult situation that was going to be tough for all of them.

"Isn't it obvious? We need a leader," Seth said calmly, his gaze immediately falling on Akhil.

"I am going to lead this district... that is, if you two don't have any problem with that," Akhil declared with a stern expression on his face.

The two simultaneous sub-scenarios were definitely tough ones, but he had a feeling he could actually deal with the problem. 'The Titan of Discord was smart, but even for someone like him... he must have slipped. His tracks can't be so perfect.'

Seth's eyes lit up upon hearing the declaration. He scoffed with pride. "Of course, you're the most suited for the job."

Akhil smiled wryly. "Not actually. Langdon would do a better job; he has a more solid knowledge of the entire settlement and good leadership abilities. But if you don't mind, I would love to take this one from you. That guy's been a real pain in the ass." His gaze narrowed as he thought of Mask again. Akhil's motivation was clearly personal vengeance and control, not civic governance.

Langdon jolted up hearing his words. "No, I'm not interested... Thank you!" he said, waving his hands emphatically. "Don't worry about it, I've got my hands full already managing the fallout and finding the truth behind the Dwarf deaths. We'll leave the King's selection to you, then."

Langdon's expression grew serious. "It won't be easy, though. With the rewards from the system, a lot of hidden players will be interested, and who knows what powerhouses have been hiding all this time. I also heard the Bureau had members that were in the guild... so you have to get the crystal before them all."

"That's right, I have to get to the Dark Mountains and obtain the Emblem before anyone else does," Akhil said with a determined sigh. The urgency of the King's Selection was now intertwined with the main investigation. He needed the Emblem to gain the absolute authority required to command a unified search effort and execute the final confrontation with the Titan.

Akhil turned to Langdon, his expression hard.

"While I'm fighting for the Emblem, you and Seth handle the investigation. Mask is the culprit, but we need proof to clear the board. Anything at all, Start with the Dwarf deaths—trace where they were killed and look for system residue. And be discrete; the Bureau agents hunting that Emblem are likely embedded here." He glanced at the carnage.

"We've got 72 hours for the main goal, but only until I grab that Emblem before the King's Selection turns into a deadly free-for-all.."

"Are you sure you won't need help in the dark mountains?" Seth asked raising a brow.

"The Dark Mountains aren't just mountains," Akhil warned, grabbing his spare supplies. "They're a high-level Dungeon Zone. The Emblem is likely guarded by a Boss, and every high-level player in the district will converge there for the rewards. This is less about speed and more about being the deadliest one on the mountain. I believe I'm already angry enough to deal with a bunch of people, so I don't think I'll need your help."

"Yes. Seth, you stay here. Don't go near that zone; you're needed for the investigation."

Seth just rolled his eyes hearing Langdon's words, "Shut the fuck up"

Akhil didn't wait for any further conversation. He channeled his remaining energy, utilizing Air walk, and shot into the sky, clearing the administrative block in one massive bound. Below him, the plaza looked like a miniature war zone, a perfect picture of the chaos Mask had intended.

'The Titan of Discord played his hand perfectly,' Akhil thought as he raced toward the jagged, ominous skyline that marked the Dark Mountains. 'Two scenarios, simultaneous evolution, no weapons, and a leadership crisis. If I don't get that Emblem, this city falls, and the Titan of Wrath will be the least of our problems.'

He landed lightly on the outer road leading out of the city limits. The air here was already colder, thinner.

Meanwhile, elsewhere within the city, high above the chaos in a lavishly appointed penthouse suite, another figure sat perfectly still. He wore a crisp, tailored brown leather suit, and a crystal cup of deep ruby wine rested loosely in his manicured hand. His name was Marcus Thorne, and he was furious.

The panoramic television screen plastered across one wall showed grim footage of the administrative block—the debris, the scattering crowds, and the fresh bloodstains—before the network cut to a bland government warning.

"Ronald, you magnificent fool," Marcus hissed, swirling the wine, his dark eyes narrowed in cold anger. "Going live with that theatrical nonsense without consulting me, exposing yourself to that monster, Akhil. You thought you could grab the spotlight and challenge me directly? The sheer arrogance."

He slammed the glass down, not hard enough to shatter the expensive crystal, but hard enough to send wine splashing over the polished mahogany table. He had been Ronald's primary silent financial backer and strategic advisor for months, grooming him for the position of figurehead leader. Marcus had built Ronald up, piece by piece, only to have the brute self-destruct in a blaze of glory.

But the flash of anger was quickly replaced by a slow, predatory smile.

"No, wait. This is better."

With Ronald dead—officially disintegrated into a useless, zombified corpse—Marcus now faced an open path to power. Ronald was powerful and controllable, but he was still a political liability and a stubborn ego that always stood in front of Marcus. Now, Marcus didn't have to be a second-hand man anymore. He could step out of the shadows and claim the leadership he felt he was truly entitled to.

His predatory glee intensified as the system notifications popped up, confirming the simultaneous start of the two new scenarios. King's Selection.

"Perfect," he murmured, picking up a silver desk communicator. "A system-sanctioned way to eliminate any lingering rivals and solidify my position with an official title. A true mandate."

A moment later, a slender man in a simple black uniform entered the room, awaiting orders.

"Jenkins," Marcus stated, his voice now firm and resonant, the voice of command. "Mobilize our assets. Contact every adventurer we have on payroll in the Falcon Guild—all the high-level mercenaries. Tell them to converge immediately. We are going on a little mission to the Dark Mountains. I want that Emblem, and I want it now."

Jenkins nodded crisply and exited.

Marcus rose slowly, walking toward the window overlooking the city, which was now lit by emergency lights and the flickering screens of his own carefully controlled media network. He envisioned the life awaiting him: the hushed respect, the unquestioned authority, the official motorcades. He was not merely a survivalist; he was a governmental body. "This is still the world before the apocalypse," he convinced himself,"... and I am the one who always leads."

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