Chapter 70: You Are Fighting A Losing Battle II

Richard stood completely rooted to the spot, stunned by the casual description Damian had just given for the legendary Headmaster.

’What the fuck!? Is that how you should be addressing your own master!?’

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at this kid’s complete lack of reverence.

After recovering from his shock, Richard cleared his throat.

"Yes, well... that ’old man’ is one of the most powerful individuals in the entire Federation and has trained countless elite warriors over his long career. But yes, that’s him."

He took another long drag from his cigar.

"So, Damian... what exactly happened tonight? Those injuries on your students looked pretty serious. Some combat-related trauma, Aura burns, broken bones. That’s not the kind of damage you get from Academy sparring."

Damian’s expression didn’t change at all.

"We just had an accident. Training exercise went a bit wrong. You know how it is."

The lie was so blatant, so obvious, that it was almost insulting.

Richard’s eye twitched slightly.

"An accident. And those six military-grade armored trucks that transported everyone back to campus?"

"We picked those up along the way. Someone was generous enough to lend them to us."

Damian’s tone remained perfectly calm and casual.

Richard stared at him for a long moment, reading the clear message in those crimson eyes.

I have no intention of answering your questions. And we both know you have no actual right to ask about anything that happened outside Academy campus boundaries.

"I see."

Richard sighed again, much more heavily this time.

He’d been a professor long enough to know when to drop a line of questioning.

"Well, accidents happen, I suppose. Just try to be more careful in the future."

He took another drag from his cigar, organizing his thoughts.

"But since we’re having this conversation anyway, I do want to give you some advice. Professor to student. You should take it seriously."

Damian said nothing, just waited.

"Everyone in this Academy is a fellow student, Damian. You’re all here to learn, grow, and eventually serve the Federation together in fighting the Monsters. Creating divisions, forming factions, building conflicts... it’s not healthy for anyone involved."

Richard’s voice took on that practiced, gentle tone of someone delivering a moral lesson.

"You should really consider controlling your Mafia organization better. Don’t create unnecessary issues with the Noble students. Learn to find common ground, compromise where possible. There’s no need for all this tension and conflict between commoners and Nobles."

Damian’s expression remained completely neutral as he listened.

But inside, his thoughts were far less calm.

’People never change, do they?

In my past life, there were always people giving me moral lectures about right and wrong, about playing nice and following the rules.

And now in this life, it’s the exact same thing. Different world, different people, same hypocritical bullshit.

It’s always the same pattern. Only when the interests of those at the top start getting affected, only when the established order feels threatened, that’s when they suddenly start caring about morality and proper conduct.

When Nobles suppress commoners for years, nobody says anything. But the moment someone fights back? Suddenly it’s all about unity and compromise and finding common ground.

Fucking hypocrites.’

Richard continued, warming to his theme.

"And honestly, Damian, you need to think realistically here. Your Mafia faction simply won’t be able to keep up with the Noble faction’s growth rate anyway.

They have access to expensive Aura-strengthening potions, rare supplements, advanced training methods, personal instructors. Resources that cost millions of Federation coins. How can you possibly compete with that?"

"The gap will only widen over time. It’s not sustainable."

Damian finally spoke, his voice cutting through Richard’s lecture.

"Professor, you should know better than anyone how much bullshit you’re saying right now."

Richard’s eyes widened slightly at the blunt response.

"I couldn’t be bothered with this talk. You’re a smart man. You know exactly what you’re doing here, and you know that everything you just said is complete garbage. So why don’t we both drop the act?"

Silence.

Then Richard’s gentle smile faded, replaced by something more genuine.

He chuckled and shrugged.

"Alright, fair enough. You’re sharper than most students your age. I’ll be direct then."

His tone shifted, becoming more businesslike and honest.

"Realistically speaking, your group won’t be able to keep pace with the Noble faction’s advancement. The sheer volume of resources they consume daily is staggering. Aura-strengthening potions worth thousands of coins each. Rare medicinal supplements.

Access to S-rank and SS-rank weapon arts. Personal combat instructors. That’s not even mentioning the advantages of generational knowledge and training from childhood."

Richard turned to face Damian directly.

"And it’s going to waste crucial time for your Mafia members. Time they should be spending focused purely on their own growth and advancement.

You might be a genuine genius, Damian. Your talent is obvious. But what about the others? What about Edrin, Lysa, Ronan, all those other students following you?"

"Eventually, they’ll desperately need those same resources to keep advancing. Expensive supplements, rare skills, quality weapon arts.

And you won’t be able to provide those things for them. You don’t have the funding, the connections, the institutional support."

His voice carried genuine conviction now.

"So realistically, it would actually be better for those commoner students to accept becoming subordinates to Noble families.

They’d get the resources they need, proper training, and opportunities to grow stronger. Yes, they’d be in a subordinate position, but they’d also have actual futures as powerful awakeners."

"What you’re offering them is pride and independence, sure. But pride doesn’t make you stronger. Resources do. And without resources, they’ll eventually hit walls they can’t break through."

Richard paused, letting that sink in.

"You’re fighting a losing battle here, Damian. Not because of talent or determination, but because of simple economic reality. The system is designed this way for a reason. It’s not fair, but it’s effective."

Damian stood there completely still, no expression visible on his blood-stained face.

The wind whipped his crimson hair around.

Thunder rumbled overhead.

He said absolutely nothing for a long moment.

Then he turned to Richard and bowed slightly.

"Thank you for your advice, Professor. And thank you for the cigar as well. I appreciate your honesty at the end there."

His voice was polite, respectful, completely neutral.

"I should get going now. It’s getting late."

Without waiting for a response, Damian turned and walked toward the roof access door.

Richard watched him go, unable to read anything from the kid’s body language or tone.

’Did any of that actually get through to him? Or did I just waste my breath?’

Damian descended the stairs alone, his footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell.

As he walked, his thoughts churned.

’Resources. Always comes back to resources and money.

But that’s fine. That’s exactly why I went after the Serpent Gang tonight.

Richard thinks I can’t provide for my people. He thinks the Mafia will crumble under economic pressure.

He has no idea what I just accomplished tonight. No idea that I now control an entire territory generating income.’

No idea that this is just the beginning.

A cold smile crossed his face.

Let them all keep underestimating me. Let them think I’m fighting a losing battle.

It makes everything so much easier.

He exited the medical wing building and walked alone into the dark campus night.

The storm finally broke overhead, rain beginning to fall in heavy drops.

Damian didn’t bother seeking shelter.

He just kept walking, letting the rain wash the dried blood from his skin and clothes.

By the time he reached his dormitory, he was soaked through.

But the blood was gone.

And his mind was already working on the next steps.

The next territories to claim.

The next moves in a game nobody else even knew they were playing.