Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: The Cerebellum King
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The defining trait of the slums is that every kind of crime brushing up against basic human nature runs rampant.
One prime example? Group lynching.
Group lynching!
In crude terms, a beatdown.
It's the act of several people ganging up to pummel someone outnumbered—a cowardly move that draws finger-pointing. But in truth, it's a fighting style that perfectly captures human nature.
What doomed the Neanderthals, who boasted superior physiques to modern humans?
A woefully underdeveloped group culture.
No matter how tough your body, there's a limit when you're on your own.
Unlike those guys, who trusted their raw brawn only to get wiped out by sudden environmental shifts, modern humans—relatively inferior hunters—overcame their physical disadvantages through cooperation.
In other words, the beatdown is the most primal product of modern humanity's group culture.
And in the Lost City, the ones who stick to it best are the punks in Area 40.
So right now.
"...Hold up."
Jin's eyes darkened as he pulled the communicator away from his ear.
Strangers had surrounded him.
Having weathered nearly every form of violence a person could face while adapting to Downtown, Jin could already predict what these guys would do next.
Someone steps forward and asks, "Remember me?"
Retaliatory crime.
They charge without a word?
Random assault.
"Let's do this the easy way..."?
Robbery.
Truth be told, it didn't matter what.
Just as he never turned away friendly folks,
he never dodged an incoming fight either. That was Jin.
If they came at him, he'd just beat them down accordingly.
That was Downtown.
With that, he shoved the communicator—Natasha's voice still leaking out—deep into his pocket and asked the group straight ahead.
"What's the deal?"
The curt question got a curt reply.
Zzap.
A lightning afterimage flared in the darkness.
"Huh?"
A dumb noise slipped from Jin's mouth.
The tension drained from his quietly clenched fist as a bonus.
Couldn't be helped.
That sparkling thing at the corner of his eye was his own power, after all.
"...Zahard?"
The word slipped out unbidden, drawing a response from the silent figure eyeing him.
"Come with us. Someone wants to see you."
*
What the hell?
Jin wondered as he started walking.
Why were the Zahards looking for him?
And all grouped up like this.
What'd I do wrong?
If his conscience had fur on it, he could've stayed warm through winter.
Not like he'd done anything wrong.
Except impersonate them left and right.
Heck, just days ago, he'd bluffed to a millennium-old vampire that he was Zahard royalty.
But Jin had his side of the story.
Not once had pretending to be Zahard ever worked.
Killgear was a monster who'd gleefully torch black flames and entire families for perfect flames.
Taha was just plain nuts.
The face collector was a top-tier psycho who'd peeled the skin off Thea Florence, the ultimate squire.
And the vampire? Hated the family with a passion brewing for ten centuries.
A lineup that'd make your mind go blank.
They all revered the Zahard name yet wouldn't bend to it—or they were too broken for talk, or straight-up enemies from the start.
So Jin owed the Zahards nothing in his heart.
He'd never seen it as getting help in the first place.
Maybe that's why.
Jin strode alongside the strangers, natural confidence draped over him like armor, utterly unadorned.
Like he had nothing to fear.
The only thing nagging him was mild curiosity: who exactly wanted to see him?
Of course, that'd sort itself out once he met them.
They marched on in heavy silence (though Jin wasn't fazed) for quite a while.
At some point, the lead guy halted, so Jin naturally shortened his stride and peeked sideways.
There loomed a massive AV.
A long-bodied beast reminiscent of a limousine, with a futuristic frame that screamed "you can't even look at it without overflowing bank accounts."
As Jin let out a quiet whistle of admiration,
"Get in. They're waiting inside."
the leader gestured toward it with his fingertips.
Jin strode right up.
The door slid upward smoothly.
"'Scuse me."
Jin ducked inside.
And his eyes went wide.
The interior brimmed with luxury materials, filling his vision.
"Whoa."
The opulence—unheard of in Downtown, let alone back home—left him speechless for a beat.
There, across a long table.
A man lounged on a sleek sofa, smirking.
"You planning to stand there forever?"
Jin snapped to.
He crossed the space to the man, marveling that he didn't need to stoop.
This the legendary private ride?
First time in one, Jin plopped onto the elongated sofa, oohing and aahing nonstop.
He turned to look at the man.
Pure chaebol heir straight out of a drama.
If he plopped folks from home here, they'd all think the same.
Sharp-featured hunk in a perfectly tailored suit, claiming the prime seat in this pricey ride.
Tie tossed in the corner, top three shirt buttons undone to bare his pec outline—more villain than hero vibes.
That was Jin's first impression.
The man, staring right back, spoke up.
"Kendrick Zahard."
Jin nodded along.
Figured he was direct lineage?
Makes sense with the entourage...
And Kendrick continued.
"They call me the Cerebellum King."
Hold up.
Normal folks would've yelled,
"Cerebellum King!" "Grandson of Myriad Thunder!"
Kendrick Zahard.
Grandson of the 29th family head, Myriad Thunder Gabellus Zahard—the next Thunder King. His titles alone proved his pureblood status, direct line of direct lines.
The man set to lead the next generation.
But Jin just eyed him with vague pity.
Cerebellum King?
Sounds kinda dumb.
Sure, Jin knew it was "little thunder king," not "cerebellum^king."
Still, the ring to it was impossible to ignore.
Forcing down a snort, he waited—then Kendrick spoke.
"You must be shocked."
"Eh, a bit..."
Jin bit his lip, nodding, finally schooling his face as he eked out words.
"Jin Evernight."
The reply came right on cue.
"I know. The Ender of Wars, right?"
"...Huh? Oh, yeah?"
Jin, clueless to his own rep, tilted his head.
Just a few exchanges in, and they were already parallel lines.
"So why'd you summon me?"
Jin stretched out his hand.
Grabbed a fistful of the neatly packaged snacks on the table and dragged them over.
The gold-foil chocolate melted divinely on his tongue.
Kendrick watched as Jin slowly savored the sweetness flooding his mouth.
"...Your purpose. No beating around the bush."
Then, in a firm tone:
"Swear it right here: you refuse to join the family registry."
"Refuse what?"
Jin mumbled around his chew,
and Kendrick replied dead serious.
"I said refuse joining the Zahard registry."
"Why?"
Jin had no intention anyway, but he asked.
Heck, he was curious.
Doesn't wanna share the rice bowl with me?
Scared I'll call him big bro?
Or is it 'cause I'm street trash?
But so what. Side branches don't get the name anyway.
Wait, no.
Thea Florence was a squire but got the surname...
Thoughts tumbling, Jin scrunched his nose playfully.
"Scared of my talent?"
At that, light flashed opposite.
"Overconfident."
Fierce lightning surged, dominating the space—matched by Jin's own discharge.
────Zzzzzap!!
The clashing energies screamed, shredding the air.
To casual eyes, mere flashiness. But to second-realm senses and beyond? A brutal melee of lightning bolts tearing into each other like feral beasts.
Rolling the chocolate in his mouth, Jin sensed the line.
One more push, and it'd be life-or-death.
That invisible boundary.
Instantly, both men's discharges cut off clean.
Oh?
Jin raised a brow at the sudden calm.
He'd pulled back since beefing with the family gained him nothing, but matching his timing?
Guy's got lines he won't cross, huh?
Peeling more foil, Jin said,
"Too scared for jokes now? Gonna tell me why or what?"
"Don't want the family noisy before the Conclave."
"Hmm."
Jin's eyes narrowed.
He pondered.
Family Conclave or whatever.
The cyberpunk dragon-tiger showdown's coming up, right?
This guy's in it too.
And now I'm a snag?
Mental radar spinning, Jin shrugged eventually.
"Sure, I'll do that."
"...?"
Totally off-script.
Kendrick blinked a while, then slowly moved his lips.
"You won't join?"
"Yup. Hey, more chocolate? This stuff's killer."
"I'll hook you up later... Wait, you're serious?"
"Yea."
"For real?"
Kendrick double-checked; Jin scowled.
This dude really a Cerebellum^King?
How many times you gonna ask?
Couldn't be helped.
It made no sense to Kendrick.
Uncle—prime head candidate—ditched the Zahard name 20 years back.
Too talented to forget, maybe.
So the head stubbornly waited for the prodigal, scouting no successor among his remaining kids.
Wait turned to personal search—over a decade now.
Meantime,
his generation, failing the handover, poured fortunes into grooming the next for the crown they never wore.
Kendrick shone brightest.
Awakened lightning at 7, hit second realm the year he came of age—a genius of geniuses.
Three years later,
everyone called him Cerebellum King.
Head seat was his by default.
Kendrick thought so too.
Till Gramps smiled.
Post-uncle disappearance,
the man's stern face lit up with satisfaction upon return.
Retainers flipped: Did he find Lokan?!
Even Kendrick's second-realm breakthrough got mere shoulder pats.
Curious, he dug—turns out Gramps met some Downtown merc punk.
The kicker? Awakened side-brancher.
Nah, no way.
Sure, side-branch awakenings are rare lately, but Gramps wouldn't flip for that.
Just a coincidence chasing uncle's trail.
Right?
Wrong.
The punk's rep climbed; Gramps's smiles deepened. If not coincidence, those freak heaven-bolts meant he was thrilled...
Kendrick grew antsy.
Especially with Conclave two months out.
So he came himself.
Block the registry to minimize variables.
Ready to end it here if refused.
But...
Just "no thanks"?
Too absurd; Kendrick blanked, forgetting his lines.
Jin spoke up.
"Hey. No more to say, right? Pack me some chocolate and snacks then. Got a crew dinner tomorrow with my buddies. You killed my time, least you can do."
Thus, Jin exited the AV, arms full of Downtown-rare snack boxes.
"Thanks for the grub! Cerebellum—King!"
He waved bye to the lined-up entourage too.
Light steps departing.
No second thoughts made it easy—which is why he'd accepted so readily.
Jin wanted no ties to the Zahard name.
And he'd already stacked powers beyond lightning anyway.
Who knew how many more question marks he'd fill? Binding to one spot spelled trouble.
His thinking shifted a tad, though.
No interest in the Conclave before—but now a spark of curiosity.
Kendrick's skills beyond expectations fired his competitive streak,
plus maybe clues on the old seven heads and prophets gathering.
Anyone purist-eligible could join, right?
No need to go as family official.
Knock out some easy gigs till then.
Been grinding too hard lately.
Whistling, Jin melted into the dark.
Clutching the thought that Kendrick would've sprinted back to renegotiate if he knew.