Educational institutions weren't scarce in ARC City. Private schools boasting elite education and cram schools of all shapes and sizes blossomed throughout this so-called city of technology, offering top-tier services to anyone striving for advancement.
But just as Ren had explained to Kiana about his father's experience, the disparity between the city center and the suburbs was far greater than one might imagine.
For suburban residents, expensive private schools and cram schools were never an option. Their only choice was public schools subsidized by the national compulsory education program.
Lagging educational resources, inconsistent teacher quality—for children growing up here, crossing that dividing line was as difficult as ascending to heaven.
The gap between rich and poor practically tore the city into two completely different worlds.
"Truly a perfect city," Ren commented.
"This is undoubtedly the best breeding ground for humanity's darker emotions, and likewise, the perfect stage for the Theater of Domination."
Smack!
A piece of chalk landed squarely on Ren's forehead, leaving a grayish-white mark.
"Muttering during class? Stand up!"
As expected of a seasoned homeroom teacher, their chalk-throwing skills were directly proportional to the number of wrinkles etched onto their face by time. Ren looked up innocently, meeting the teacher's stern gaze.
He tried to find a hint of leniency in those cloudy eyes, but failed. So, he stood up, straightening his posture as much as possible, allowing his gaze to sweep down at a 45-degree angle, surveying his classmates.
This made him look less like the only student being punished and more like a general inspecting his troops.
Whatever the case, maintaining a strong presence was key.
Satisfied with singling out Ren, the "troublemaker," the homeroom teacher nodded and continued writing on the blackboard. "Next, we'll discuss 'Postnatal Care for Sows'..."
Observing the class from a unique perspective, Ren noticed many scenes usually unseen.
Against the wall, a student whose weight was rapidly approaching 180 jin [Approximately 200 lbs] was sneaking snacks into his mouth, while the student behind him could only drool enviously.
A boy by the window stared outside, lost in melancholic thoughts typical of his age—oh, he was actually checking out a girl from P.E. class.
The student closest to the podium was brazenly playing on their phone, apparently mastering the advanced anti-detection tactic of "hiding in plain sight." A promising future indeed.
Such was the tapestry of life.
However, compared to a true feast, these appetizers were far too meager.
A smile touched Ren's lips. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, darkness enveloped his vision.
The black and white, three-ringed mark of the Herrscher slowly formed, accompanied by a distant wolf's howl.
New actors had arrived.
Wooden puppets swayed, transparent strings beginning to entwine.
"Welcome to the Theater of Domination!"
…
A biting wind whipped past his ears, like the weeping of a young girl. Ren's vision slowly cleared, the rapidly approaching ground rushing towards him.
Hum!
Transparent strings shot out, latching onto a protruding structure on the building's exterior.
The taut strings jerked his body, nearly tearing him apart.
Once securely suspended, his heart still pounded in his chest. He stared wide-eyed at the ground less than ten meters below. A second later, and he would have become the first Herrscher to die from a fall.
It seemed being the Herrscher of Dominance was a high-risk occupation. Ren was grateful that the previous three hadn't chosen such an extreme method to summon him.
"Who are you?" A hoarse, girlish voice, raspy from prolonged crying, echoed in his mind. Ren ignored her, slowly using the Domination strings to pull himself to safety. Finally, after climbing onto an air conditioning unit, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Jumping off a building.
The simplest, most direct way to end one's life. He looked up at the nearly twenty-story drop. The fall would have taken three or four seconds. It must have been during those few seconds that the resentment and fear within this host finally reached a critical point, triggering the mark he'd left.
"Why can't I move?" The girl's voice returned. Ren frowned, deciding to mute her.
Regardless, to gain control over a host, he first needed to understand the source of their despair.
A thousand sorrows, a thousand despairs, a thousand madnesses, a thousand curses. The desire to be destroyed, to be imprisoned, to be dominated.
This was the root of the Thousand-Person Herrscher's birth.
But for Ren, if he followed this pattern, the result would be nothing more than a disorganized mob. They all had their own demands, their own desires. The only thing connecting them was the Herrscher of Dominance's power.
To avoid repeating the mistakes of the game, Ren had resolutely decided to monopolize the Thousand-Person Herrscher's power, the price being that he had to taste a thousand sorrows, a thousand despairs.
Begin. Let me understand your demands, your desires.
The price is your submission.