"Of the top ten races in the cosmos, we humans sit comfortably at spot three, our throne earned in rivers of blood and mountains of corpses."

The man smiled, his teeth glistening in full display.

"I still don't understand why you had to take me or what this has to do with us." Roy mustered, still confused.

Suddenly the rowdy hall went silent, and the man got to his feet and spoke.

"Are you lot going to tell him?"

From a seat among the crowd, a masked lady spoke.

"I'm a member of the 3rd batch of ascended humans, and our batch brought with us fanatics who searched for a higher form of perfection — lunatics who altered their genetics and created what we know today as the Zods, the number one enemy of the human race."

Another spoke up.

"Us, the 2nd batch, were pretty much the same, except we created a whole other race called the Slyphs, and they turned out to be number fifteen in the top races of the cosmos today."

"Us too, the 6th batch — we created the Seraphims, the number nine race of the cosmos."

"Hehehe, not to boast too much, but we created the Godslayer race."

"Hmph, we of the 56th batch created the Armageddon — destroyer of civilizations!"

"You call that something? We of the 71st batch worked the spaceships you all use today. All interstellar wars were founded by us!"

The more Roy heard, the grimmer his expression became…

The man raised his hand, commanding silence, as he turned to Roy.

"Do you understand now, young man?

We humans are harbingers of havoc, entities of pure chaos. Each time we appear, a new war is fought. Even we fear ourselves and our creations. And honestly, we've had enough. The cosmos is already chaotic enough… So tell me, little one, what is your batch going to bring us?"

Terror flooded Roy's veins. How could he not understand their point?

Heck, if he were in their shoes, he might be making the same decisions.

"The thing is, you guys brought the wrong person. I have hardly explored the continent I'm on, much less gotten to know what most humans are into."

He could only say this in hopes of release. These people — their strength was unfathomable, their aura had limitless depths. It was just like that fly thing he fought, Belzebub — that moment before his end, he sensed its true power.

He could hardly imagine what levels these people had reached, and killing him was definitely effortless.

No wonder new worlds needed defense mechanisms to keep them safe, giving them the time they needed to grow.

The man shook his head as something appeared in his grasp, something Roy found too familiar.

The man smiled.

"Well, can you explain to us what this is?"

Roy swallowed hard as his eyes remained glued to his crimson assault rifle. He could have sworn it was meant to be in his inventory!

"Or this?" The man pulled out another — a glistening shotgun.

Holding the two akimbo, the man continued speaking, his smile growing.

"We tested these, you know, against creatures of the same level as you or even several above. They seem to mow through them too effectively…

Such tech we've never had. Lasers we can understand, but projectile weapons that weren't arrows and bows? You've got quite the items, don't you."

The man then proceeded to pull out more — a golden armor, a buzzing baton, and a glistening gauntlet.

Suddenly the atmosphere changed. Everything went cold, the stares of all spectators becoming fiendish and concentrated on Roy.

Even the curly-bearded man's demeanor changed, an abyssal force oozing from his being, stifling Roy.

"Three of these are legendary. Even those that aren't are too capable, beyond Epics…

You claim not to have interacted much with others, but you yourself have such potential for disaster. I would say your 99th batch are the most dangerous humans we will ever see."

At this point Roy knew there was nothing he could say to save himself, and he inquired.

"So what do you want? To kill me? If so, you can. But just so you know, there's no way you can get rid of the rest as long as the barrier is still up."

The man chuckled darkly.

"Why would we want to kill you? You said it yourself — we are greedy bastards."

And that was the last Roy heard before he went out of consciousness.

"Clyme, you should be well aware that these items had to be acquired through his system. And you sealed it." A lady announced.

Her meaning was clear — there was no way they were getting anything from the boy.

Clyme stroked his mustache delicately as he stared at Roy's unconscious body, then corrected.

"You don't get it. Systems can't give what civilizations have never or could never create…

I suspect that before these guys ascended, they were quite advanced — shame to say, but more so than ninety-eight of their predecessors. And the system could tap into that innovation to create this…

We, as world masters, have gone beyond systems. What they can do, we can. So all we need is to tap into the same innovation it did… and we can, through this lad."

The lady and everyone nodded in understanding. If they could really build such weapons strong enough to be worthy for usage, they might just stop being number three and take number one.

"Take him to the labs. Let Evans deal with him." The man waved as he strolled out of the hall.

And everyone began departing in tow, all giddy and awaiting great results.

Good thing they sensed the sharp spike of ether on that plane when they did. If not, they might never have had this opportunity…

Clyme strolled into a shadowy chamber, two attendants before him ready to relay important info.

"What is it? Be quick, I'm in a good mood."

The attendants glanced at each other, hesitation and fear flitting through their eyes.

But they had to speak, so one stepped up to the task.

"M-master… Info about our new captive has been broadcasted to the myriad races… And they are coming for him."

Clyme froze, the curled edge of his mustache trembling.

"Sigh… We're fucked!"

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