MM - Chapter 157 - ANNOTATIONS OF A PSYCHIC

Johnathon of PsyCore

- Minutes ago -

Upon arriving at Carter City Central Square, Johnathon's attention was immediately stolen by the emanations of a powerful, unsanctioned psychic. It was a trivial matter to tell that the bandage-wrapped man on center stage, who announced himself as Raine KongRu, was untrained. His mental fluctuations were highly erratic, one of the first faults trained out of every budding PsyCore agent.

It was also obvious why the man had never been recruited or eliminated—the standard protocols when dealing with discovered psychics. The man was a projector—a particularly undesirable breed of psychic who specialized in broadcasting whatever secrets might be contained within their skulls to anyone with a mind to listen. 

This didn’t mean projectors were immediately dismissed upon discovery, for psychic abilities tended to come in a bundle. Johnathon himself had six, their culmination earning him the title of sifter. He could not only project but read, plunge, sense, distort, and, to a very weak extent, manipulate. Having six abilities was on the high end, while one was almost unheard of. 

Johnathon nodded to himself after a few moments of focus, positive the man's second ability was just as useless as the first. He was untuned—those with emanations that primarily functioned on an unstable and uninterpretable mental wavelength. The thoughts being projected were so garbled that Johnathon, one of the best in his field, couldn’t understand a single one. It was no wonder the man was passed over as a child; he was possibly the most worthless psychic Johnathon had ever encountered.

Despite these facts, Johnathon frowned. Something was off about the man's emanations; namely, they were far too powerful. To stabilize and grow psychic abilities was no different than any other muscle in the body; all that was required was opposition of force. To increase in power as a projector, this Raine KongRu only needed a listener to receive the emanations, providing the mental feedback that led to strain and, hence, growth.

So the question was, how had the man become so powerful if there were none who could receive his projections? The mystery nagged at Johnathon more than Angel constantly pulling at his sleeve. Admittedly, the man’s martial skills were without question. If he had even one usable ability, he would have been a star recruit.

It wasn't until KongRu fell in the box and his emanations were disrupted that Johnathon noticed a second psychic in the crowd, an observation which he instantly regretted. The girl with flaming pink hair was a voidmind—those so devoid of psychic abilities that they were considered immune to them.

As a voidmind, she would undoubtedly be on the Nullforce watchlist. Having come within such close proximity to her warranted his entire team undergoing special interrogation to ensure they didn't slip her any secrets. After all, voidminds were the natural enemy of psychics. Their thoughts, memories, and emotions were impossible to plunder. They were also fairly common, making it imprudent to weed them out of society altogether.

It was time to go. Remaining around the voidmind would only deepen their future misery. Besides, the primary reason Johnathon came was no longer a necessity. It was clear the encroaching assassins had done their due diligence, ensuring casualties would be kept to a minimum. Additionally, there were no other potential budding psychics in the area to be hurt. The deaths of the few normies he could have saved were a small price to pay for not stepping on several powerful sets of martial toes.

With a nod to Vicky, the two men escorted a kicking and screaming Angel from the city center as all hell broke loose behind them.

Raine KongRu

- Carter City Central -

Laying on his back, Raine winced as the sun stabbed into his brain. The shelter doors opened, and several faces popped into view, most of them bandaged. The crowd was louder than he remembered, though not as noisy as Mel.

“Raine!” She dove inside, tears wetting her cheeks at the sight of his ruined hand.

Raine tried to answer, but his voice failed. He hadn’t felt so thirsty in a lifetime. A medevac flew low overhead, sirens strobing. Mel continued yelling at him, though it was hard to understand her words.

Must have lost more blood than I thought. Damn, that was a good fight.

Mel’s following words died on her lips. A new speaker made himself known as he landed gently beside them. Grandmaster Vought still wore his dark wrappings. He gazed down at the unmoving Raine with a glimmer of recognizable greed. “You actually won… and by the looks of it, you’ll survive long enough for treatment. How about working for me from now on? Before you spout some nonsense about why you would prefer not to, let me demonstrate why your refusal would be a terrible idea.” 

The grandmaster vanished from sight and reappeared an instant later, hand landing on Mel’s shoulder from behind. Killing intent many times thicker than Raine and Jedidiah’s combined blanketed the entire city center. Silence descended like a dense fog. Hundreds collapsed, unable to maintain consciousness through a grandmaster’s demesne. The rest fell to their knees, incapable of moving or thinking. It was as though time stood still within the heart of Carter City. An unassailable predator was poised behind each and every person, fangs spread wide to brush against the soft skin of their necks. There was no escape. To move, to even consider fleeing, was to invite a sure and instant death.

Mel’s heart froze. She couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. Nothing in ZionLine had prepared her for this kind of threat. She knew why the grandmaster wanted Raine; it was obvious to anyone who lived in their world. While experts battled for resource allocations, the ownership of entire territories was decided by the duels between masters. Having defeated a master statistically superior in every way, Raine proved he was capable of eventually taking one of the top slots in the master’s ranking list. Few grandmasters would let such a prized champion go without at least an attempt at claiming him.

Raine flashed bloodstained teeth, shaking his head softly. With the absolute silence poised in the air, his weakened voice was barely audible, “Astra Infernum has only one master. You are not him. Now piss off before you cost me too many credits to count.”

Grandmaster Vought’s eyes narrowed. His grip on Mel’s shoulder tightened only a fraction, but it was enough to elicit a scream. Just as suddenly as his killing intent had descended upon them, it vanished under the assault of a second, equally powerful demesne. Fresh screams split the air as Grandmaster Vought was forced on the defensive, no longer able to afford dispersing his energies. People fled. They were a distant distraction. The attention of those inside the shelter was drawn to the newest arrival.

The man wore a casual business suit with stains on the chest as though he wiped his fingers on it after breakfast. Professionally cut, slicked-back red hair and a pair of designer AR sunvisors added to his mismatched appearance. The oddities in attire were less important than what he was doing. His grip on Vought’s wrist was iron; the sound of metal scraping metal fought the crowd’s screams for superiority of the airspace.

For a brief moment, those within the shelter became sure of their deaths. A battle between two grandmasters was not something that could be safely witnessed from so close. Locking gazes with Vought, the new arrival spoke in a bored tone, “That’s far enough, Dominic. Taking a champion you didn’t raise is shameful enough; doing it in broad daylight is a stain I’ll not abide.”

Grandmaster Vought tsked, releasing Mel and stepping back. His wrist was released, but he didn’t make a move to strike back. “Conner. What a pleasure,” there wasn’t an ounce of joy in Vought’s tone. With a tilt of his chin, his disciples were directed that it was time to go. Grandmaster Conner Ewan wasn’t a foe worth facing, no matter Raine’s potential value. Vought pinned Raine with one last look, then left.

As the Black Hood Organization retreated, Grandmaster Ewan knelt, hovering over Raine to gently pat his cheek, “Two hundred and fifty.”

Raine had a new reason to groan as a quarter million credits that were supposed to go toward his new recruits instead went to pay for his final contingency plan. Just paying the notoriously powerful mercenary to be on standby for the day had cost fifty million. However, there was no room for regret in Raine’s heart. It wasn’t possible to put a price on freedom in this second chance at life.

The two shared a nod as the medevac landed.

Later that day

- Carter City Central -

After the event ended, the terrified people slowly returned, trickling back onto the streets that had been filled with panic. The scare from experiencing a grandmaster’s demesne became the highlight of the year. They packed the streets, gossiping about the intense duel, the numerous martial techniques that were displayed, the mysterious bandage-wrapped masters, and the strange contents of the Astra Infernum questionnaire. Among the loiterers, occasional joyous shouts could be heard, though they were drowned by the many cries packed with despair.

As an AI, Morty was devoid of remorse as he clinically followed Raine’s instructions, inviting only those who met the demanding requirements. Just because they had forty thousand headsets didn’t mean it was wise to give them all away so soon, potentially missing out on future recruits with proven skills.

Originally, Raine intended the recruitment drive to fill out his ranks with necessary office workers and day-to-day laborers who would excel at crafting, gathering, organization, accounting, or even cleaning. A budding guild required skills from all walks of life. Finding those suitable for combat roles required sifting through massive quantities of people, as those who could go toe-to-toe with ZionLine's brutality were few and far between. However, with such a vast pool of humanity to pull from, Raine's choices on who to onboard changed drastically. Today's hires would not only include his original plans but also those who would become his personal elites. Until today, they were the castoffs of the martial society. Those who thirsted desperately for martial teaching and only found a world that turned its back on them. Raine would give them what they sought. He would train from the bottom up, turning them into an army that would make the world regret giving up on these desperate souls.

Morty was well versed on what to look for to find them, and so, his clinical pruning of the masses continued long into the day.

At the stroke of noon, the buildings lit up with the first vodcast since the end of the duel. Eyes gravitated to the man who’d displayed more martial techniques than anyone thought they would ever see. The dark bandages were gone, replaced by the hospital white one would expect after the beating he took.

Raine KongRu—the champion of Carter City—stood proudly before them, his visage larger than life in every regard that mattered. His voice boomed loudly through the streets, packed with emotion that resonated in his listeners, “To those of you who didn’t make the cut, do not give up and wallow in defeat! Polish your skills to the best of your ability. Find us in ZionLine for another chance. We’ll be waiting.” His good arm lifted high, gaze seeming to burrow directly into each viewer, “To those of you who joined us this day, congratulations. Tomorrow, the adventure of your lifetime begins.” Raine’s voice turned deep, choked with passion, “Astra Infernum rises. Come, and rise with us!”

End of Martial Messiah book 4

Thank you for reading!