Reincarnated With The Degenerate System

Chapter 269: Establishing My Status 4

No one spoke. They didn’t need to.The gap between us was obvious — wide enough that numbers meant nothing.

Good. At least they learned something.

"Alright," I said, pacing slowly across the cracked floor. "Now that we’re clear on where we all stand, listen up."

My footsteps echoed through the hall — and the sound alone was enough to swallow every voice in the room.

Even the spectators went still.

The ones who came merely to watch had arrived expecting a fight.

What they witnessed instead was something else entirely — a demonstration, a reckoning — and now they stood frozen at railings, unsure whether to leave or stay, as if moving might remind me they existed.

Good. Let them feel it too.

"I didn’t beat you down because I enjoy it. Power trips are boring."

I glanced over my shoulder."

"I did it because you’re wasting your abilities,"

A few flinched. Most didn’t argue. That said enough.

"Complacency becomes stagnation," I continued. "And stagnation gets you killed."

The words landed heavier than any punch I threw at them.

"Take this however you want — humiliation, a wake-up call. I don’t care which." I shrugged.

"But if you plan on surviving in this world — no, if you plan on taking it back — then this?" I gestured at the broken floor, at their bruised and bloodied bodies. "This isn’t even close to enough."

Silence stretched.

Then Arron pushed himself up, wiping blood from his lip. His legs trembled, but he stayed standing.

"...You’re right."

Another followed, bracing against the wall. Then another.

"Good." I straightened. "Then I’ll be taking command as your combat leader."

"I’ll train you until you look back on this moment and realize the person you are now is trash compared to what you’ll become."

Not kind words. They weren’t meant to be.

What this place needed right now was not a leader who could motivate people, but someone strong enough to lead, no matter the cost.

"Any objections?"

.

.

.

That evening, Mayor Harrison threw a party at his mansion — his way of celebrating my performance, and of showing me off to the people who mattered in this city.

The most influential guests only. The kind who made decisions and never lived with the consequences.

I was, of course, invited.

I wore a fitted black coat — clean, sharp, expensive. Everything this world rewarded.

Inside the mansion, warm golden light poured across marble floors while soft music drifted through the halls.

It was surreal. Outside these walls, people fought daily just to eat. In here, we were celebrating excess.

Servants moved silently between guests, carrying trays of food arranged like artwork — tender meats glazed in rich reductions, rare seafood, ingredients most people in this dump hadn’t seen in years.

Every plate was composed. It wasn’t about feeding anyone.

It was a performance. A declaration of who had everything and who had nothing.

I settled in a corner and watched them drift toward me — slow, circling, like merchants sizing up an acquisition.

Their smiles were too wide. Their words too rehearsed. Behind their eyes, I could already see the shape of their thinking: loyal protector.

Idiots.

For now, I let them talk. Let them believe.

Once I’d built enough authority here — once their trust turned into dependence — I would move. The mayor and his circle would be the first to fall.

Then—

Footsteps approached.

Mayor Harrison arrived, surrounded by his wives, daughters, and granddaughters.

The moment he reached my table, the surrounding noise softened.

Chairs shifted. Conversations faded. People nearby kept watching, pretending they weren’t.

"Ah, there he is—the champion of our paradise," he said, pulling out a chair without waiting for permission. "Are you enjoying the party?"

"I do," I said, smiling as my gaze moved past him and landed on his granddaughters.

The mayor paused.

His hand lifted slightly, like he was about to speak, then stopped. His eyes followed mine, then narrowed a little as understanding set in.

A small silence stretched between us.

Then he cleared his throat.

"This is the eldest, Erika."

A woman stepped forward first. Calm posture. Controlled expression. She gave a polite nod, the kind taught rather than felt.

"Nice to meet you," she said.

The mayor didn’t wait long.

"The second eldest, Mira."

She followed, slightly younger, eyes sharper. She looked at me longer than necessary, then dipped her head.

"Sir."

Another pause.

"And the youngest, Lysa."

The last one moved a bit slower. She looked less sure of herself, hands clasped in front. Her voice came out softer.

"Hello."

All three stood in a neat line now, like pieces arranged for display.

But Lysa didn’t quite match the rest. Not in presence. Not in how she carried herself.

She was more like someone standing just outside the family weight, not fully inside it.

For some reason, she stood out more.

Not because she tried to impress anyone. She didn’t carry the same pride her sisters had. She looked like she was still learning where to stand in a room like this.

"Do you fancy any of them?" he asked in a joking manner.

I looked at him, not moving. "Oh? Are you willing to give them to me?"

For a moment, something flickered across his face, like he was deciding whether I was serious.

Then he laughed.

"Of course," he said, waving a hand like it meant nothing. "I would be happy to marry any of them to someone strong like you. Better that than letting them end up with a useless lad."

So that was it.

He was trying to attach me to his family so I would stop being a threat outside it.

Not a bad idea.

Just misplaced.

His mistake was thinking a thin leash like that could ever hold me.

Marriage. Titles. Family ties. All of it was just decoration over control. It only worked on people who needed permission to move.

Me? Things like that meant nothing. Just like trash on the sidewalk.

Still, I went along with it for now.

"It’s too early for me to decide. And all your granddaughters are equally pretty. That makes things harder."

The words were light, but the meaning underneath wasn’t.