I'm Just a Nobody, Why Are You Calling Me a God?!

When cockroaches multiply, they are exterminated. But what happens when evil people multiply? The Seven Emotions and Six Desires gave their answer.

What began as an insignificant act of defiance grew into a beast that tore through the fabric of society. Faith became corrupted; rebellion turned into an unstoppable carnival. The once-suppressed fury transformed into a storm surging through the city, and at the crest of the wave stood the Seven Emotions and Six Desires, steering each crashing blow.

Using computing power siphoned from the Silver Moon Consortium, they built a network free from any rules. Top-tier hacking turned information flow into a weapon, sending out simple yet direct commands to the masses: act, pay, be efficient. And once people tasted this freedom, they would never return to the cages of control.

No one truly knew the core of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires, nor did anyone care. Their influence spread like a virus, seeping into every crack. Each act of destruction, every cry of defiance, was a rebellion against the system. They became a symbol of faith—yet they had already transcended faith itself.

In just two months, they had ripped apart the glossy façade of corporate power, exposing the rot beneath. They orchestrated dozens of strikes against the conglomerates: Azure Consortium's energy grid was paralyzed, Golden Eagle's logistics network collapsed, and Silver Moon's virtual entertainment users watched in horror as scandals of their executives played out before their eyes. Meanwhile, in the streets, countless voices chanted their name, joining protests, riots, and outright violence.

But behind the revelry lurked an uncontrollable madness. As their doctrine spread, mere destruction was no longer enough. Fringe members began acting independently—kidnappings, assassinations, arson. Innocents were dragged into the chaos. The core leaders of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires tried to regain control, but the wild beast they had unleashed was beyond taming.

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The Azure Consortium's board was the first to issue a countermeasure. No more pretense, no more attempts at appeasement. Every computational resource was mobilized, pinpointing every node of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires. Their strategy had no mercy: "Eliminate the chaos in the shortest time, ensure core interests remain intact."

Crimson Flame Industries deployed its military forces without hesitation. These elite soldiers, enhanced with cutting-edge weaponry, alongside mechanized legions, swept through the streets of the Western Continent. Anyone identified as a "rebel" was eliminated on sight. They crushed every resistance cell with overwhelming violence, snuffing out defiance with brute force.

Golden Eagle locked down logistics and transportation hubs. Drones and armed robots patrolled every major district, turning the cities into vast prisons.

Northern Star Holdings deployed its latest "tracking augments"—cybernetic soldiers capable of tracing any suspicious signals, hunting down the fringe members of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires one by one. Their precision and ruthlessness became the rebels' worst nightmare.

Silver Moon employed their specialty: psychological warfare. They twisted the image of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires into that of deranged terrorists, turning their once-righteous faith into a laughingstock. Every participant was branded a "social plague," shunned by friends, reported by colleagues, abandoned by society.

The purge lasted three days. Three days of blood flooding the streets of the Western Continent. Those who had once shouted slogans perished under drone bombardments, under the barrels of mechanized soldiers, under the weight of shattered faith. The neon advertisements that hovered over the city never dimmed, yet beneath their glow lay a landscape of ruins.

The corporate counterattack was precise and ruthless. They severed the Seven Emotions and Six Desires from their networks and resources. Fringe members became scapegoats—cleansed, judged, forgotten. The protests and riots that once swept across the continent vanished into the dust of history.

But the true core of the Seven Emotions and Six Desires had never cared about victory. They had always known they could not defeat the conglomerates. All they wanted was to break the system, to shatter the order, to let the wild dogs' howls continue.

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In a hidden stronghold, the Leader sat before an aging terminal, idly spinning a coin between his fingers. The screen flickered coldly, each lost node vanishing like falling stars—swift and meaningless.

"The fringe is wiped out. The nodes are exposed. The streets are empty," Sorrow's voice came from behind, laced with dry amusement. She leaned against the wall, her silver-white hair glinting faintly in the dim light, deep blue eyes locked onto the screen.

"Of course they're empty." The Leader let out a soft laugh, flipping the coin into the air. The metal spun, catching the light as it arced through his fingers. "But these voids will never be filled."

Ear slouched in a chair in the corner, his cybernetic ear giving a subtle hum, as if mocking the situation. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the desolate cityscape on the screen. "We don't care about the fringes? How many of them are dead?"

"They always knew the ending." The Leader caught the coin mid-air, his voice calm as if narrating an expected failure. "The rules are broken. The order has collapsed. That is enough."

Hand, standing beside the console, polished the weapon at his hip and grinned. "Damn cold, Leader. But I like it."

Sorrow stepped closer to the screen, her gaze piercing. "Is this the chaos you wanted?"

The Leader tapped the coin on the table, the crisp sound echoing in the room. He lifted his head, a glint of frost in his eyes. "This isn't chaos. This is just the beginning."

As his words settled, footsteps sounded at the door. A man with dark hair and deep-toned skin strode in, his chiseled face hardened with restrained fury. He wore a deep crimson combat suit, an ancient blade hanging from his waist.

"Wrath is here," Ear murmured, tilting his head back in mockery. "Took you long enough."

"Does speed matter?" Wrath's voice was laced with a smoldering edge as he strode toward the Leader. His words were solid, unwavering. "This time, I move. Clean and thorough."

"Don't get too heated," Hand chuckled, slapping Wrath on the shoulder. "I like your decisiveness, but let the Leader flip his coin first."

Wrath ignored him, his blazing gaze fixed on the Leader. "Leader, when do we start?"

"When everyone arrives," the Leader replied coolly, placing the coin on the table.

As if on cue, the door swung open once more. A woman in vibrant attire stepped inside, her long, wavy hair swaying with her movements. Her sun-kissed skin glowed under the dim lights. She carried an effortless smile, a beam of light cutting through the heavy air.

"Joy is here," Ear muttered, his lips curling in irony. "Always the life of the party."

"Every party needs some fun, doesn't it?" Joy's voice was warm and exuberant as she approached the table, casually setting down a bottle of liquor. "You all look so grim. I'm here to fix the mood."

"Mood doesn't matter. Action does." A lean man in a sealed combat suit followed her inside, his protective goggles flashing coldly under the light. His voice carried a biting chill. "Disgust is here."

"Now we're all here." The Leader stood, flipping the coin into the air. The crisp sound rang through the room as it spun. When it landed, the face of an angel stared up at them.

"Angel," the Leader murmured, his lips curling into a slow, cutting smile. He glanced around the room. "Then, let's begin."

Wrath gripped his blade. Joy uncorked the bottle. Disgust adjusted his goggles. Sorrow leaned against the wall in silence. Ear and Hand exchanged knowing grins.

The so-called peace of the Western Continent was nothing but the calm before the storm. The howls of wild dogs had only just begun anew.