SWNOVELXO Chapter 34: Small Skirmishes
The virtual server of the Silver Moon branch collapsed with a thunderous crash behind them. The alarms blared, sharp and piercing, while the red warning lights stretched their shadows into fractured distortions. Under the protection of an angel's luck, everything had gone surprisingly smoothly—until they sensed someone following them.
Archer was the first to notice the strange pressure, as if something in the air was distorting their very presence. He halted, slowly turning his head. A woman in a deep blue cloak emerged from the shadows, her long silver-white hair reflecting a soft glow under the dim light. Her steps were light, yet exuded an undeniable force.
Matthias frowned, his hand instinctively reaching for the weapon at his waist. "Who the hell is this?"
"She's no ordinary person." Nicholas' mechanical ear began emitting a faint hum, and he immediately tensed up. "It feels like she's pulling at our consciousness."
"So, what exactly are you clowns up to?" The woman's voice shattered the silence—low, cool, and laced with a hint of mockery. "Blowing up a server and running? What's next? Robbing a convenience store?"
Archer's gaze darkened. "Who are you? And why are you following us?"
"My name is Lorena Kahler, but that means nothing to you." Her eyes swept over the three of them, cold and assessing, as though judging a group of naive children. "You don't seem to have a clear goal. It's like rebellion is just a meaningless performance for you—running, blowing things up, and then what? Do you even know what you're doing?"
Archer remained silent, but Matthias chuckled. "Us? Clowns? Come on, destroying a server worth tens of millions isn't exactly clown work."
"Sure, but then what?" Lorena's tone grew even colder. "You've only taken down a minor system of a small branch. By tomorrow, they'll have a new one. The day after, something bigger and stronger will take its place. What's your plan? What's next?"
Her words sliced through the air like a blade. Archer's frown deepened. Slowly, he unclenched his fists and looked her in the eye. "Of course, we have a plan."
"Really?" Lorena arched a mocking eyebrow. "You haven't even thought about how to coordinate among yourselves, let alone how to take on an entire corporate empire. You're just a bunch of hot-headed punks."
Nicholas' expression darkened. "Her words are sharp, but she's not wrong."
A brief silence settled between them. Finally, Archer spoke in a low voice, "If we're going to keep going, we need a clearer direction. No more hit-and-run."
"Direction?" Matthias leaned against the wall, clicking his tongue. "Alright, then what should we call ourselves? 'The Seven Deadly Sins' sounds cool, but from now on, maybe we need to start acting like a real team."
Archer turned to Lorena, his voice cold. "And you? Are you here just to mock us, or do you want in?"
"I'm here to see if you're worth it." Lorena's gaze remained icy, but there was a hint of hesitation in her tone. "If you can prove you have some brains, I might consider it."
Archer nodded and pulled a coin from his pocket. He flipped it, watching it spin before catching it between his fingers. The face-up side bore an angel. He smirked slightly. "Then let's begin. The Seven Deadly Sins will move with purpose from now on."
Turning to Matthias and Nicholas, he continued, "From today, we won't use our names anymore. Codenames suit us better."
Matthias paused for a moment, then grinned. "Alright then, call me 'Hand.' Born to get things done."
"Ear," Nicholas said coolly, a faint defiance in his eyes. "Since this thing still picks up good intel."
Lorena lowered her gaze in thought before murmuring, "Then I'll be 'Sorrow.'"
Nicholas turned to Archer, his expression questioning. "And you?"
Archer pocketed the coin, his gaze sharp as ice. "Leader."
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Neon lights bathed the streets of District C12 in a chaotic glow, but for Irwin, they were no different from the flickering fluorescent lamp overhead—just empty decoration. He hunched over in his cramped rented room, sitting on a rickety chair while his floating terminal screen displayed a grinning executive from Golden Eagle Corporation, enthusiastically promoting their latest logistics robot.
"This machine will bring you an unprecedented level of efficiency," the executive declared, his voice dripping with artificial warmth.
Irwin scoffed, slamming his hand on the table. The screen flickered, switching to another channel. He grabbed his instant noodles—bloated from over-soaking—and stirred them absentmindedly. "Efficiency? What a load of crap. Those corporate bastards never consider whether people at the bottom can even survive."
Just as he was about to shut off the screen, a news alert popped up. The footage was blurry, partially censored, but the audio was crystal clear.
"Scandal erupts within Azure Consortium: Top executives exposed for long-term surveillance of employees through VR systems, with some data sold to underground markets."
Irwin's chopsticks froze mid-air. His eyes locked onto the screen, a mix of confusion and fury rising in his chest.
The report included surveillance footage—an executive, all smiles, casually explaining how they exploited "foolish employees" for data, even joking, "They don't need to know. As long as the lower class lives within our rules, everything is fine."
Irwin's throat tightened. His mind flashed to the hours he spent working in a virtual factory, where even his breathing seemed monitored. He quickly opened the comments section, finding a storm of outrage.
"These corporate pigs don't even spare our privacy!"
"Virtual reality? 'Happiness services'? It's all just their bullshit control tactics!"
"These bastards should've been exposed ages ago. Why do we always have to be the ones trampled underfoot?!"
Irwin scrolled further—more scandals flooded in. Golden Eagle destroying evidence of a failed automated transport fleet, covering up hundreds of deaths. Silver Moon fabricating VR entertainment data, trapping users in an endless cycle of consumerism.
These revelations hit like bombs, shaking the foundations of the city. Irwin's stomach churned. In his mind, he saw those high-rise offices, where executives sipped wine, coldly watching the struggling masses below.
"Fucking animals," he muttered, setting down his food. His fingers danced across the screen, switching to social media, where discussions had already exploded.
"This is today's hottest topic?" he murmured, scrolling through wave after wave of enraged comments.
Even street monitors were now broadcasting the exposé, drawing clusters of people who watched the executives' smug faces and heinous acts. An old man nearby grumbled, "I told you these bastards were no good."
A group of young people stood together, arguing furiously. "Why should we let them control everything? They survive off us, yet treat us like livestock!"
"But even if we fight back, can we really do anything?" one of them asked hesitantly.
Irwin didn't join their discussion. He simply stood by his window, staring at the distant Azure Consortium logo, its bright glow suddenly feeling unbearably glaring. The leaked footage played over and over in his mind, a weight pressing down on his chest. His years of numbness, of silent endurance, suddenly felt disgusting.
His terminal beeped, flashing a new message from an unknown sender. No signature, no branding—just a single line of text:
"The Seven Deadly Sins—The first step to awakening."
Irwin stared at the screen for a long time, fingers hovering over the interface. Finally, he tapped.
Throughout the district, massive screens began displaying the same message. Under the cold neon glow, those few words burned like a spark, igniting something deep within the sleeping city.