Athanasia: My Hacker System-Chapter 135: The Hivemind Race Is a Lowly Race!
"Hahaha, not that at all," it was John’s turn to be amused. He looked at the other side of the river, crossing his arms.
"It’s just I have a theory in mind—something that makes me focus entirely on them. And you said it yourself: the universal rule is to target those bastards first. Remove them from the trial, then we can settle the situation between ourselves, right?"
"Well..." Lanmar felt like John was spinning a web of lies, hiding the sharp edges of his real intentions behind a mask of seemingly logical excuses.
"I won’t say any help is unappreciated by my people. Still, I don’t see the point in you targeting them. Once they set their eyes on you, they won’t stop until they’ve brought you down and rendered your flesh into fuel."
John calmly smiled. He wasn’t bothered by Lanmar’s warnings because, in his mind, those bastards had already targeted him. The D-1000s weren’t a random occurrence; they were a targeted strike.
Lanmar didn’t know that John had been hunting for the origin point of the machines for quite some time now. He had already discarded the possibility that they came from the Bulltor area—the Bulltors were far too straightforward, perhaps even a bit naive, to devise such a treacherous scheme as sneaking a fifth race into the pocket trial.
However, the leads pointed directly toward the Mechanical Hivemind of Beasts and Insects.
It made perfect sense. The Hivemind could let loose these machines to cause tragedies and chaos, paving a path of corpses for them to feast upon. They could discard these D-1000 units into deadly battles without batting an eye because they wouldn’t lose a single unit of their official ten thousand army.
John was sure that as the Dragons and other top races had adopted a rule to hunt the Hivemind, the Hivemind had responded with this shadow-war strategy. But the question remained: why send thousands of machines to his area? An area that was supposed to be non-existent?
’Something is linking all this together,’ John thought, the gears of his mind turning faster. ’The machines, the Hivemind, and this hidden Area 11. One day, I’ll uncover the whole truth. But for now, let me repay the kindness of their attack—triple.’
He turned his attention fully to Lanmar, who started explaining the known tactics used by that mechanical race. The more he spoke, the more John was taken aback by the sheer diversity of their tactics.
"As the race has beasts and insects, they have a mixture of ground troops and flying units," Lanmar explained, his voice low and heavy.
"They even have aquatic monsters that can pass through the river branch and get into the heart of any territory, attacking from within, or even doing the worst: poisoning the water!
They are vicious! The most famous tactic is to draw their enemies away from any fortified walls of their territories, draw the enemies to their killing grounds, then unleash the flying insects upon them!
You saw the defensive tower we have—it’s a must-to-survive tool for any race coming into the pocket trial in case we ended up fighting them in it! And yet they have evil tactics, even faking a defect and withdrawing far away from the tower to kill more of us..."
John started to form a general idea about that race. Even if they had lots of power and diversity, they still followed a single and seemingly repeated pattern of behaviour.
"In brief, they adopt a slow kiting process in their fights, not brave enough to enter large battles head-on, no matter what!" John summarised, a hint of disdain creeping into his voice.
"They aren’t brave?!" Lanmar was startled. This was the first time he had ever heard someone describe the most feared swarm in the apocalypse as not brave.
"They adopt defensive tactics, using sneak and dirty methods to kill their enemies, and even if they meet you in the open, they aim to lure you away from your spot and kill you away from the defensive towers... In my eyes, these are all the traits of a lower race, always fearing others, always seeing themselves as lower than other races!"
John was sure about his conclusion. If they were truly brave, if they believed in their absolute superiority, they would have used direct conflicts to crush their enemies more often through sheer force.
Yet all the tactics Lanmar spoke about were the hallmarks of a lower race or a smaller force trying to fight against a much superior one. They relied on manipulation and psychological warfare because they lacked the warrior’s heart that the Bulltors—or even the humans—possessed.
"Ok," Lanmar didn’t know how to respond to John’s weird analysis. It felt sacrilegious to speak of the Hivemind this way, yet the logic was hard to argue with. "You heard everything about them. What do you intend to do?"
"What else?" John simply shrugged, turning to see Cissel and Ricky coming back with their Bulltors, carrying piles of chest plates from the destroyed machines. "I’ll first build and fortify my territory here, then beat them in the game they master!"
"Wait, didn’t you just speak lowly of them?" Lanmar was confused, his massive brow furrowed. "How come you say you’ll adopt their tactics?"
"We are just five humans and eleven Bulltors," John said, rolling his eyes as if the answer were obvious. "Of course, we are currently an inferior race in terms of numbers and overall strength. We have the right and honour to fight and win using these tactics. I’m not like them; once I have the numbers, I’ll show you the pride of humans!"
John then left Lanmar and headed to welcome his friends. He immediately started the arduous process of synchronised handshakes and hacking, taking out the content of each machine’s storage program. One by one, pulse cannons, reinforced wall segments, and energy cells manifested in the area around him.
Yet soon enough, he was met with a problem.
’I can’t make up for this high consumption rate of my Mental Points,’ he thought, pausing. He looked at his profile. His Mental Points were plummeting. He had been attempting to suck dry everyone around him for Mental Points, but there was a limit that he didn’t account for.
At first, the drain was nothing big. But after hours, as night befell them, it was clear that the Mental Points he sucked left everyone in a weird, weakened state. Even the Bulltors were suffering; a few couldn’t even stand, and a couple had fallen into a deep sleep. If he kept this up, he’d have a base full of comatose giants and friends.
’I’ll need to use everything I’ve got,’ he decided. He moved his hand into the middle of a big pile of items he just got out from one machine chest, but instead of sorting through the loot, he reached into his own inventory. He pulled out his MP Pulse device.
’You were getting rusty inside my inventory for long enough. Now it’s time for you to shine,’ he thought. He didn’t even show any abnormal reaction on his face when he took the device out. To the others, it felt like he had simply activated another weird item brought by the machines.
