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Capital of Greed

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Synopsis
The Cosmic Realm, the Infernal Realm, and the Mortal Realm constitute the world of Avaritia, a prosperous land of might and magic. With Humans, Elves, Dragons, Hobbits, Dwarves, and even Gods inhabiting its lands, it is a world that is as rich in history as it is in strife. For thousands of years, the Three Realms were locked in relentless conflict; the Mortal Realm serving as the battlefield. The three sides secured victories both large and small, but none managed to truly prevail over the others. Unable to watch his children slaughter each other, the God King Raidriar sacrificed his own life and split the Three Realms, stopping the endless wars. However, with his death, he left a prophecy. “On the eve of the Fourth Millennium, when the tears of Ausar finally run dry, the Throne of Fortune will appear.” “And he who ascends the Throne will be named ‘King of the World’.” And now, many years have passed and the fabled time has finally come. The Three Realms have shown signs of reuniting once again and the Gods have begun to place their bets on their chosen champions. This is the tale of that contest... ------------------------------------------- Main Character Introduction: Atlas Constantine, previously John Doe, is the 13-year old Prince of the recently fallen Constantine Kingdom. He is a genius, narcissistic megalomaniac, and an ex-politician with nearly sixty years of experience. He is known for his treacherous character, bottomless greed, and glib tongue. He is also petty, vain, shameless, and manipulative, whose moral standards are egregiously low. In short, he is a person who would stoop to any lows (or highs) to get what he wants. That being said, he is also strangely fair(?), kind(??), and fun. He is a person who is full of contradictions. "If people ever ask you to define the word 'Genius', just tell them my name." :- Atlas Constantine ------------------------------------------- Tags: Transmigration, High Fantasy, Male MC, Weak MC, No Cheats, Kingdom Building, Wars, Territory Management. Upload Rate / Time: 1 chapter/day. 8:00 AM CST Note: This novel is a High Fantasy set in a world with varied cultures and multiple races. It is important to note that the characters, events, and motives are PURELY FICTIONAL and have no relation to real events or people whatsoever.
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Chapter 1 - John Doe. Prologue Part 1

Pzzsht!

The static sound of a hand-held radio hissed fiercely. It crackled with the discordant sounds of radio chatter for a few seconds before clearing up.

"Pzzsht! This is Alpha Leader, over. We have secured the perimeter. I repeat. We have secured the perimeter, over."

A deep masculine voice rang out.

"This is Bravo Leader. Pzzsht! The decoy has been stationed in the newspaper stand. Awaiting the target's arrival, over."

"This is Charlie Leader, over. My men have surrounded the coffee shop. The staff inside had been instructed to remain calm and act as usual. We are ready to nab the target the instant he arrives. Pzzsht!"

An aged hand, deep-set with wrinkles reached out onto the dimly lit table. Grabbing onto the buzzing hand-held radio, the hand brought it near its owner's lips.

Pressing on the 'talk' button on its side, a strict, grand voice instructed.

"This is Team Leader…"

The strict voice took a moment to inhale a breath of fresh, cool air. Exhaling a heavy sigh, he continued.

"May the Lord bless all of us in this mission."

Removing his hold on the button, he quietly mumbled.

"…heaven knows we need it."

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"Pzzsht! May the Lord bless all of us in this mission. Pzzsht!"

Hearing the radio turn silent after those words, Alpha Leader, a suave, middle-aged man in his mid-forties, sheathed the hand-held radio into his pocket and sighed.

"I've never heard our director sound so glum. Just who is the target, Captain?"

A young voice curiously quipped.

Hearing his young corporal's query, the suave Captain let out a weary sigh and asked, "Did you seriously not read the mission dossier, Walter?"

"You know I didn't, Captain!" the young man cheerfully responded.

"Haa!" Exhaling another long, drawn-out sigh, the Captain seriously briefed, "Our target is a 5' 11'', Caucasian man in his fifties. Other notable features include graying hair and sky-blue eyes."

"This is the target that was deemed 'Extremely Dangerous' in the mission report? A grandpa!?"

The young corporal speechlessly exclaimed.

"He's John Doe!" the suave Captain barked at his impatient corporal.

John Doe!

Hearing that name, the young corporal's body fiercely trembled. In an instant, he immediately understood why the target was deemed 'Extremely Dangerous' and why the old Director sounded so morose.

"Ca-Captain! Are you sure that our target is THAT John Doe? The one which the media calls the 'Bloody Tyrant'?"

"Do you know of another one with the same name?"

The Captain rolled his eyes at his trembling corporal and turned to face the front. The duo was currently standing on the roof of a 15-storey building, overlooking a quiet and peaceful neighborhood. Taking a quick look at his watch, he noted the time.

[07:01:03]

Removing the set of binoculars that was hanging around his neck, the Captain held it over his eyes and peered through. With his vision greatly enhanced, he scanned across the neighborhood and mentally noted down the details.

Owing to the early time of the day and the fact that today was a Sunday, the streets were quiet and void of any pedestrian traffic. Cars stood lined up against the sides of the street and the gates to the residential houses remained shut.

Just as the Captain was scanning through the neighborhood looking for abnormalities, his body suddenly stiffened. His eyes narrowed into the binoculars and deeply set wrinkles began to appear on his forehead.

Looking at the scene through the binoculars, he grimly mumbled.

"He finally showed up…"

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Running his fingers through the ends of his shoe, John caught hold of that impeding edge that refused entry to his heel. Pulling on its leathery corner, he slipped in the back of his foot and stood up.

Tapping his feet against the ground to confirm its proper fitting, John showed a victorious smile on his handsome, aging face.

"Finally in, you little bastard…"

He then turned around and opened the first drawer in the chest of drawers by his side. Grabbing some loose change and putting it inside the right pocket of his long overcoat, he then grabbed a dark-blue mask and put it on.

Wearing a mask while going outside had become a deeply-ingrained habit of John's. With his years piling and his health slowly waning, he couldn't afford to take a risk against the virus which seemed to have a new variant every six months.

It's been three years already. Why was it still not gone?

After adjusting the mask to properly cover his face, John then reached out to grab his leather gloves. The weather had been turning cold recently and the gloves provided the warmth that he needed for his hands.

Moreover, John simply liked the warm, silky feeling on his hands.

Walking up to the main door, he pushed down on the handle and pulled it open. Immediately, a gust of cool air and a ray of warm sunlight struck him squarely on his face.

Taking a deep breath, John appreciated the fresh feel of the morning. Truly, there was no better feeling than going out for a walk after being cooped up inside your house for weeks.

Man was a social animal, not a caged one after all.

Steeping outside his door, John promptly turned around and closed it. After mentally confirming that he hadn't forgotten to take anything for his outing, he turned the key and locked the door.

Pushing down on the handle and seeing that it didn't move, John pocketed the key into his left pocket. He had a particular way to keep things inside his pocket. Valuables such as money, phones, and cards would go into his right pocket, while other stuff like keys, bills, and the like would go into his left pocket.

Some might argue that the key to one's house was valuable, but to such arguments, John scoffed at them.

Keys that are lost can simply be remade but phones cannot. Plus, if he had to choose between losing his key and losing his phone, John would unhesitantly choose the first option.

Briskly walking up to the small gate, John smoothly exited and closed it behind him. Stepping into the street, John deeply inhaled once more, puffed out his chest, and embarked on his journey to his favorite coffee shop.

'Nothing improves the quality of a morning like a cup of fresh, hot coffee. Period. Those who say otherwise, clearly lack the necessary intelligence to be classified as a human.' John thought to himself with a smile.

The smile continued to remain plastered on his face throughout the duration of his morning walk. The cool breeze of the morning wind, the fresh scent of wet grass, and absence of the general hubbub, and noise from traffic and other pedestrians, all served to complement John's excellent morning.

He was not a loner who preferred silence in the least. In fact, John was someone who loved and thrived in chaos and disharmony. He had built and lived his life around this after all.

However, rare bouts of silence and calmness were something that he much appreciated.

'I can almost feel my soul being cleansed.'

Enjoying this feeling of his soul being cleansed, or at least that's how he described his current feeling, John soon arrived at the entrance to his street. Coming here, he suddenly stopped.

One more step and he knew that his peace would be broken.

One more step and he would be greeted by the sounds of civilization.

'If only this peace could last forever.'

After thinking as such, John took that step. He turned a corner and was immediately greeted by the sound of cars honking, people chattering, pets barking, babies crying…civilization as a whole, moving.

Against this sudden influx of chaos, the previous scene of peace and tranquility almost seemed like a lie.

'But this is good too. Chaos can be fulfilling on its own.'

Taking another step, John joined the chaos.