It was an unexpected plan, to say the least.
“We are the Democratic Liberation Front, here to deliver the hammer of justice to you wealthy, corrupt politicians for the sake of true freedom! Lie on the ground and do not resist!”
They wore masks that only exposed their eyes, similar to those used by special forces, and powered suits designed for practicality rather than decoration which serve like spirit armor. Each was armed with an assault rifle and carried a one-handed sword at their waist.
There were about 30 of them. Among the elite aristocrats of modern nobility gathered here, the sudden appearance of these unmistakable terrorists was jarring.
And, honestly, they were ripe for mockery.
[If they’re liberating democracy, doesn’t that mean they’re doing away with it? Also, these aristocrats are skilled fighters. They’ll suppress them in no time. So even if they kick the table or send the food flying, Mira, don’t intervene.] (Lanpeach)
[I understand. You’re saying you will take care of it before it comes to that, right? I trust you, Pla-san.] (Mira)
A quick mental warning to Mira. The terrorists were already poised to flip the tables, but the moment they did, it was clear they would be the ones flipped. Dishes would be shattered, and so would the terrorists -no doubt about it.
“Oi oi, do you even realize where you are? This isn’t a place for lowlifes like you. Leave at once.”
A red-faced, slightly tipsy, overweight man hiccupped as he addressed the terrorists.
It was such a predictable pattern. The classic setup where the red-faced man gets dramatically shot down by the terrorists.
However, this was a world of swords, magic, and dystopia. Even with guns aimed at him, the red-faced man remained composed and grinning.
“I warned you, you bourgeois swine!”
The terrorist, speaking in a deadly serious tone, pulled the trigger of their assault rifle. The sharp crack of gunfire echoed as the bullet sped toward the red-faced man. Death’s hammer seemed poised to fall…but no one screamed or contorted their face in terror.
That’s because the bullet stopped just short of the red-faced man. A spirit barrier had formed, easily deflecting the mundane projectile.
“Hmm? Did something just happen? It felt like an annoying little bug flew by.”
The man chuckled, waving his hand lazily. The suspended bullets clattered harmlessly to the floor.
Of course, such composure was to be expected. Everyone here wore spirit armor beneath their suits or dresses in the form of innerwear after all. At an event of this scale, assassination attempts were anticipated, and their attire incorporated complex spirit armor enchantments.
Chihiro, Koume, and Mei’s outfits alone were worth billions of Ele, with various defensive magic enhancements added to their accessories as well.
Moreover, the nobles themselves were formidable mages. There’s no way they would lose to these terrorists.
This was the red-faced man’s moment to shine. He cast a bored gaze at the terrorists, shrugging and heaving a mocking sigh.
Thank you, unnamed man. You’re the real hero of this scene. Please wrap this up for us.
“Well, I’m not sure what the guards are doing, but it seems I’ll have to subdue you lot myself.”
The other attendees who sought glory began advancing on the terrorists to match the red-faced man.
“Tch, damn bourgeois scum! Cancer of the world that eats away at the people with your powerful mana. Did you think this would be the end?”
One of the terrorists pulled out a small crystal, holding it up like a detonator.
“Huh? What the—”
“Death to the bourgeois!”
The terrorist’s shout drowned out the red-faced man’s puzzled voice. The crystal in the terrorist’s hand emitted a dark, malevolent glow. Other terrorists produced identical crystals, unleashing their power as well.
Something horrifying occurred amidst the brilliant flash where people were squinting to protect their eyes.
The terrorists’ bodies became enveloped in black mana, transforming grotesquely.
Their spirit armor warped into hideously distorted forms, their clothes burst apart to reveal hard, purple skin. Horns sprouted from their heads, bat wings emerged from their backs, and their faces morphed into menacing sheep-like visages with fangs.
Demons. The terrorists had turned into demons.
[Libra E—ich!]
Libra attempted an analysis while sipping a hot shark-fin soup, but burned her tongue in the process. Her clumsiness is cute too though.
[Baphomet: Level 6]
Looks like they were Level 6 demons. Undoubtedly under Harkein’s command.
The red-faced man froze in shock, faced with these sudden transformations.
“W-What is that form? Are those magic tools that turn people into monsters?!”
“Try laughing now, bourgeois scum!”
The demon hurled a fireball with a casual flick of its hand. The blazing projectile flew like a bullet despite that, slamming into the startled man.
“Uwaaagh! Why isn’t the spirit barrier activating?!”
The barrier failed to block the attack unlike before. The man was engulfed in flames, rolling on the ground as he screamed in agony.
And so, the unnamed man exited the stage. Thank you and farewell, unnamed man. You burned brightly like a candle.
“The spirit barrier did activate. It simply couldn’t withstand the force of my flames and popped like a bubble.”
The Baphomet sneered arrogantly, mocking the man writhing in flames.
The attendees shifted to serious expressions, Realizing that these demons could harm them. There were no screams or panic; this was proof of their dominance in this dangerous world.
The atmosphere transformed into a tense battlefield.
“You dare move when I told you not to! Then witness our power!”
[Summon Lesser Demon]
Pointing a finger at the floor, the Baphomet unleashed a dark magic circle that spread across the venue. From the circle emerged humanoid demons with ghostly, bat-like forms, crawling forth one after another.
[Lesser Demon: Level 4.]
These demons were tough for those in the Surface District.
“T-They’re over Level 80! Even the summoned monsters are over Level 60!”
One attendee, capable of gauging enemy strength, exclaimed in shock.
(Right, they are using a system different from mine. There’s a pretty big gap in levels.) (Lanpeach)
“Make sure the bourgeois can’t escape! Rip their legs off!”
The battle erupted in earnest with the Baphomet’s shout. Spells flew, swords and spears clashed, and shouts echoed through the venue.
The sound of an explosion echoed, and the venue was engulfed in thick smoke. A girl was diligently packing food amidst the haze. She actually brought tupperware with her.
“What is this farce? Which family is advertising their wares here?” (Bacchus)
Bacchus retrieved an axe from his Item Box with an exasperated voice. From within the smoke, a Lesser Demon lunged at him, but he split its head open in one swing. His masterful technique not only cleaved the demon cleanly in two but also stopped the axe just short of damaging the floor.
“Well, it’s clearly a farce. I’ve never heard of any Democratic Liberation Front before, and there’s no way security wouldn’t notice something like this.” (Aegis)
Aegis incinerated another Lesser Demon in an instant with flames that wrapped around her hand, sighing as if tired.
As expected of the family heads, they showed not a hint of unease. They might struggle against something like a Baphomet, but mass-produced Lesser Demons posed no threat to them.
They also understood that this was likely a staged act. A marketing stunt to showcase the strength of these supposedly formidable demons.
But they were wrong. This wasn’t a mere demonstration.
“Kishaaa!”
A Lesser Demon charged at Lanpeach, baring its sharp, protruding fangs.
Lanpeach casually extended a hand in response and placed it on the demon’s forehead. Though it was only a light touch, he used his psychic energy and high-level martial skills.
The demon’s limbs twisted grotesquely in unnatural directions before its body disassembled into pieces, scattering through the air and falling to the ground.
[Strong Air Throw]
A technique surpassing an air throw, utilizing the opponent’s own strength to hurl them while also inflicting damage. Against weaker foes, their bodies could be torn apart.
Bacchus and Aegis observed Lanpeach’s performance out of the corner of their eyes, marveling at his undeniable power.
“So, what do you think I should do in this situation?” (Lanpeach)
“Fumu… That sheep-headed one will be tough to defeat without our help.” (Bacchus)
Bacchus glanced at the Baphomet and groaned at the question of Lanpeach. Indeed, it was a formidable opponent for ordinary humans.
“We should evacuate. Leave it to the military, and let’s escape from this venue. There’s no telling what other traps might be in place.” (Aegis)
Aegis countered, suggesting retreat. It was a reasonable point; the enemy was dangerous, and they could have hidden trump cards, but…
“Esteemed Mother, we need to evacuate! I’ll protect the women and children!” (Toko)
As expected, Toko came running over with a desperate expression. Behind him were wealthy civilians, invited as guests but lacking combat abilities.
The unnatural density of the smoke had been bothering Lanpeach for a while. There was far too much of it even for a battle.
“I’ll take care of that little girl!”
One of Toko’s entourage reached out to pick up Mei, who stood idly with a donut in hand.
Koume and Chihiro, of course, were ignored completely, their indifference palpable.
“Oh, don’t worry about her. I’ll carry her myself.” (Lanpeach)
With a light kick off the floor, he grabbed the girl’s head and slammed her into the ground.
“W-What are you doing? She’s an ally!” (Toko)
“Did I use too much force? My apologies. But rest assured, I’ll make sure these kids are safely escorted.” (Lanpeach)
Lanpeach replied with a smile, cradling Koume and Mei while carrying Chihiro on his back.
If he left it to them, Mei would undoubtedly go missing after all!
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