Athanasia: My Hacker System

"It’s enough harvesting all these cores... It’s time to end the trial!"

John stood at the edge of the south-eastern territory, his eyes fixed on the map hovering in his vision. An entire month had passed since the meeting where he had laid out the grand plan to his friends, and they had uncovered their deepest secrets to him.

Since that day, he had scattered his friends across the different pocket trial territories. Each of them now led a specialised task force, a small but lethal army comprised of a detachment of Bulltors, three members of the Twelve, and several hundred humans.

Under the leadership of Cissel, Ricky, Luke, and Elena, these disparate groups had been forged into a cohesive military force through the fires of constant combat.

There were four active armies in total, each claiming a territory as its own. Their mission was twofold: to provide a meat-grinder training ground for the human survivors and to serve as the fighting force against the relentless waves of Wrathers and yellow monsters.

John had kick-started all this by visiting each of these territories during the month, gathering Ogolith cores and feeding them to his magical core.

The result was a series of localised apocalypses. In each of the four territories, massive outbreaks of Wrathers and yellow monsters occurred as a direct consequence of John’s setups. His friends led the defence against these surges, forcing the human survivors to finally taste the raw, unvarnished reality of an apocalyptic trial.

To ensure the survival of his assets, John had deployed massive defensive zones within each territory. He gave his friends the authority to deploy and reposition these defences as they saw fit, providing them with the defences they needed to handle the evolving threats.

Furthermore, he had constructed a massive, monolithic base in each zone to serve as a stronghold and a last line of defence. If the front lines collapsed, the armies had a fortress to fall back to.

While his friends managed the attrition war, John moved between the territories, claiming the cores from the various dens. His friends ensured that every single Wrather and yellow monster slain was stripped of its core. By the end of the month, the collective haul was astronomical.

But John’s ambition didn’t stop there. He had viewed the layout of the pocket trial not just as a training battlefield, but as a treasure trove.

With four territories occupied as training grounds, one territory serving as the primary Bulltor base, and the north-eastern zone acting as his firm base in this world, he decided to turn the remaining regions into high-yield farms for the yellow monsters.

Excluding the Krogers’ territory, which remained a sensitive zone he chose not to disturb just yet, he had five total territories functioning as farms. He had briefly attempted to subjugate the remnants of the Hiveminds to serve as his followers, but the experiment had failed.

The Hiveminds were inherently brutal, too stubborn and arrogant for negotiation. They fought with a suicidal ferocity that left John with no choice but to eliminate them. In the end, he cleared them all out, turning his focus back to the dens.

Regarding the machine dens, John had handled them once the meeting was over. He had acquired six total Evolved Machine cores. Four of these were blue-grade, but the final two were rare purple-grade cores. These purple variants provided massive area coverage and the ability to advance the effects of any mechanical items by two full grades.

To maximise his loot, John exploited the very rules of the pocket trial. He allowed the monster dens to reach peak evolution, crossing the one-hundred-wave threshold, before he moved in to claim them. He collected the defences from various territories and then initiated a harvesting cycle across his five farms.

By waiting for the dens to mature, he forced himself into battles against evolved monsters with higher strength. The risk was greater, but the rewards were unparalleled. The den cores he harvested now were significantly more potent than their predecessors.

The new version of the Fog Golden Core, the item capable of resetting a user’s filled core quota, now boasted a staggering ten-kilometre effect radius, a ten-fold increase over the original version.

As for the monsters themselves, while the fundamental nature and effects of their cores remained unchanged, they carried the refined energy of evolved lifeforms. They were considered a new type of cores that John could consume to grow stronger. Yet he decided against using them for now.

John saw no reason to leave any scrap of power behind, especially since he now held absolute control over the trial. He established a routine: claim the den cores, harvest the loot, and wait two weeks for the dens to reset before repeating the process.

Now, at the end of the month, the results were laid out in his inventory.

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[Pocket Trial Ownership Parts: 100/100 (Sufficient to code the Pocket Trial Ownership Badge).

Enhanced Fog Golden Cores: 82.

Standard Fog Golden Cores: 60+ (Harvested from the training grounds)]

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As for the various monster cores, he had gained tens of millions of them, a staggering figure that he didn’t even dare to count fully yet.

By the end of the month, he felt a profound sense of satisfaction with what he had accomplished. The foundation was laid, the inventory was full, and he was now ready to take the final steps to complete the trial and claim his prize.

"Oh, the Krogers seem to be expecting you," Luke noted, his voice tinged with a mix of wariness and wonder.

Just as John walked alongside his friends, crossing the final boundary of the fog line, they ended up facing a grand base that looked more like a sovereign stronghold than a typical outpost.

The architecture was advanced; the walls were reinforced with shimmering alloys, the towers were topped with rotating gems, and the defensive weapons were entirely different from the standard cannons John and his friends had used and experienced in the trial so far.

And yet, there was a glaring, intentional opening created in the middle of such a grand defensive structure. It felt like someone had built everything perfectly, yet reached the final few miles and grew either tired or lazy, leaving a massive gap in the setup to invite a conversation rather than a fight.