The world wasn't going to be destroyed or anything. Surprising, I know. After all, it feels like it'd be burning in hell now. Crime rates internationally went up by almost three-folds, the national governments didn't do crap to help anyone.
So as the streets are ridden by crime, police step up. They form the World Police Force, called WPF for short. Crimes went down by a long shot as now people live in cities without the growing fear of being mugged or killed.
Let me tell you a story. There was a young boy who wanted to be loved, but no one loved him at all. Sad I know. But what happens when the boy wants to be loved and will do whatever it takes? So he makes a plan but is hit by a truck the next day. He finds out that everyone he loved didn't help him at all.
What would you do in that case? Strive even more to earn their love? Throw them away and keep cold contact? Or just get revenge? Well, I don't know why I'm asking you. But I chose the third option. And I was given power unrivalled.
[Hello Operative Vivian, I am the Template System.] A cold, mechanical and without feeling tone sounded in my mind. I'd just woken up as my consciousness returned to me. I was devastated to find out that my roommates and caretaker didn't come to see me.
'Who are you?' I asked in my head. I thought I was going crazy hearing this random voice in my head. But I was corrected. [I am the Template System. Sent by Administration Soul. He saw potential in your spirit and will. So I am merely a test.] Soul? I think about it as a sort of interface.
[Vivian (No last name)
Alignment.
Good: 50%
Evil: 50%
Strength: 0.5
Speed: 0.6
Endurance: 0.5
Intelligence: 0.7
Templates.
F: 0
E: 0
D: 0
C: 0
B: 0
A: 0
S: 0
SS: 0
SSS : 0
X: 0
Remark: A pitiful person indeed. Fortunately, you gave me. P.s, normal humans have 1 for each stat]
[Would you like to draw your first template with the starter pack?] I look at the interface and know that I wasn't going crazy. 'Can you help me?' The answer was yes. I looked out the window into the clear skies. I clench my teeth and know exactly what I want. [Evil has gone up by 5%]
'Draw.' I think. A sort of wheel comes on as it spins. There are three boxes. One takes up half of the wheel (50%), another takes up 40%, and the last one is a mere 10%. The boxes were named like this, from highest chance to lowest. F, E, D. The arrow landed on A. Text came out saying, 'Ghost.'
[Ghosts. Ghosts are an E ranked terrorist template. They wear standard military clothing, a bulletproof vest, a tactical backpack, a skeleton mask, and black sunglasses. They use advanced combat knives and a desert eagle for their weaponry. They have ten times the physical properties of a healthy and trained body builder, whilst also having the experience of a war veteran.]
I subconsciously swallow my saliva and choke on it. After coughing for a small while, I return to the text. The template seems kind of really overpowered. I close my eyes and I sense that a group of five Ghosts appeared outside of the Hospital in the alleyway.
[Tasks given.
Headquarters: All leaders and factions need a Headquarters, otherwise where will they go when they're done missions? Time limit: Three months. Penalty: Lose three Ghosts. Reward: Obtain a D ranked template.
Last Laugh: Joker is a very dangerous criminal. One that threatens both heroes and villains, considering you are a mere speck of dust. You must find a way to end this dust rabbit before you are swallowed whole too. Time limit: Five months. Penalty: Death. Reward: F (80%) or E (20%) ranked templates.
Whisper: Create an organisation, secret or not. Time limit: Four months. Penalty: Lose all current reputation, good and bad. Reward: Three F ranked templates.]
I looked at it thrice and sighed. I knew who Joker was, an infamous criminal who has reportedly been said to have killed three senior police officers. There were several ranks in the WPF. Three major ranks and each major rank has three subsections.
City Officers: Officer - Senior Officer - Chief Officer.
State Commissioners: Commissioner - Chief Commissioner - Prime Commissioner.
International Forces: Special Operative - Veteran Operative - Leader Operative
Legends say that Leader Operatives aren't even real. No use dwelling on useless thoughts. Right now, I'll be in the hospital for ten months at worst, eight at best. I also- "Vivian? I am here to check on your hospital bill." I clicked my tongue, they didn't even pay for my bill? I thought we were best friends, even after all I've tried to do for them.
"I'll pay it next week." I said with coldness in my eyes. The doctor was a little spooked by me and left me alone as I clenched my fist. I went back to the Ghosts and gave them one single order. Find criminals, end them, and take their money. Since I'm in Canada, hospital bills are on the lower side. I sigh at my situation.
My thoughts wander to the Ghost team. I give them one simple instruction. Find and kill all criminals they come across, then rob them. I'll need quite a bit of money. I click my tongue in annoyance once more. Things just don't go my way.
The Ghost team had five members and each one had a codename. Specter, Phantom, Ghoul, Zombie, and Skeleton. I was in a bird's eye's view as the Ghosts roamed the land at night. It was quiet and silent. But soon they came across their first victim.
"H- hiccup- hey you guys! I- hiccup- need m- hiccup- money." A drunk dude came out waving an empty bottle of beer. Specter wastes no time as he breaks the man's ankles and ends his life prematurely with a neck snapping. Too bad the guy had no money. But I look at the bar with no pity.
'Rob it and kill everyone in there.' The team of five brought out their knives and broke in. People got startled as a bloodbath began. Fourteen men and twelve women died. My team grabbed the money from all sorts of random places and left.
Fortunately Apathy had told me that once even a single DNA strand left one of any template's bodies, it'd evaporate immediately. Even if a template died, their bodies would disintegrate instantly. Leaving forensics useless against the Ghosts.
I tap my finger on my forehead as I finally realise that I was going to become a criminal. Damn, you know what? Fuck everyone else, since no one cares about me. Why should I care about them? I made up my mind as a new conviction took place. If this world hates me, I'll burn it down to the ground happily.
'Do it, rob everything in sight and kill all those who resist.' I ordered the Ghosts, and maybe it was just me. But they seemed happy about the order. Then again, they are terrorists. I lay down and sleep whilst also watching the muggings go on. It was basically like a dream honestly.
I watched as innocent bystanders were implicated in this. But these people were experienced terrorists, most of the time they didn't care about the bystanders. Professional terrorists indeed. Night goes by so quickly when you're having fun seeing random people beg for mercy. Then you crush their dreams hopelessly.
Heh, sometimes I feel like I'm more like a seventy year old godfather than a nine year old child. What stupid thoughts I'm having. All I need to do is make sure I am protected and safe. No one else matters at all. I will be the only one who matters, not Grace, not Logan, not Rosalind, not even Jeanne.
Morning arrives at last as my eyes open with renewed vigour. I check my current bank account with the Apathy. [Bank Account: 57,890$] I closed my eyes and never felt that criminal life was so paying. Heh. Unfortunately, I still need 2,110$ more in order to cover the bill. Don't even get me started on how much the bills would be in America.
The sun came up as light reflected off me. I looked at myself in the mirror. A malnourished body because my caretaker keeps sending it on beer. Sunken orange and red eyes. Jet-black smooth and brushed hair. And almost ghost-like pale skin. I wasn't in good condition, I know. Many of my organs were failing as well. If not for the hospital and my immovable spirit, I'd be dead by now.
"I'll show them all. No longer shall I be just Vivian. I'll be Vivian the damn Tyrant." Something changed inside me, not the system, but something deep down. I know what it is. It was the fact that I was willing to go as far as needed to achieve my goals. I shed the personality of the boy who had a girl's name. This boy, one might- no, WILL become a dictator...