MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 1049: Solution

After pondering for a moment, Anthony said, "How about I offer a solution to your problems?" A sly yet assured smile lit up his face, as if he fully grasped the gravity of his impending revelation.

"A solution?" Bryan questioned, utterly baffled. What kind of solution could this man provide? Yet, the instant that doubt surfaced, he shoved it aside; the Anthony he knew never voiced empty promises. Furthermore, he'd personally witnessed Anthony revive millions from death, a miracle that upended every shred of common logic.

Could Anthony truly lend a hand? Even without grasping the method, Bryan felt compelled to inquire—he craved details on Anthony's aid, for the mere prospect was far too vital to dismiss.

Noticing Bryan's bewilderment laced with budding interest, Anthony sprang into motion. He lifted his right hand, materializing a small brown pill in his palm. This talent pill, freshly acquired from the system shop, came equipped with a custom "effect" perfectly crafted for this exact predicament.

"Well, since your plight stems largely from your elder brother Heinz lacking your talent, this fixes everything," Anthony explained in a serene voice, smiling faintly. "It's a talent pill that will boost Heinz’s talent straight to Planetary level the instant he ingests it," he affirmed, holding Bryan's stare without flinching.

Bryan’s face tightened in a deep frown, his eyes squeezing into razor-thin lines, intense and unyielding. He and Anthony had only just chatted about talent pills and elixirs, which he'd brushed off as pure fantasy, and now Anthony dangled one before him like it was utterly ordinary.

A massive wave of shock crashed over him. His gaze locked onto the pill resting in Anthony’s palm, refusing to waver, while his thoughts whirled wildly, struggling to fathom its origin. Then, a new suspicion crept in: if Anthony possessed it, why not use it himself? Was it laced with poison, or burdened by horrific drawbacks rendering it worthless?

Amid the mental turmoil, he swiftly rejected the idea of Anthony needing it personally. At just twenty, Anthony had risen to become one of the world's mightiest; such a pill held no value for someone who'd already shattered boundaries others could scarcely imagine.

Still...

"If side effects concern you, I swear it has none—it performs exactly as intended and nothing else," Anthony's steady, reassuring voice cut in from nearby, yanking Bryan from his racing doubts.

Bryan tore his eyes from the pill at last, meeting Anthony’s piercing sky-blue gaze. A thick, brooding silence hung between them briefly, charged with unvoiced musings and wary deliberation.

Though it seemed absurd, Bryan refrained from accusing Anthony of jesting. The stakes were too grave for levity; the consequences loomed too immense.

"Why are you helping me?" he demanded, instantly trusting Anthony's claim. The Dragon Emperor would have scorned him as an idiot for such blind faith. Any sane individual would demand tests on the alleged talent pill before daring to believe.

"You can call it nostalgia," Anthony answered, his smile steady and unruffled. "There’s no specific motive; I’m aiding you simply because I choose to and possess the means. That’s all there is. Take it or leave it—up to you," he added impassively, as if the decision weighed nothing on him.

Anthony rarely meddled in others' affairs; he extended help solely on his whims, unshackled by duty or pressure.

Bryan’s gaze lingered on the pill briefly, haunted by Iserios Von Deathwrath’s stern warnings. Ever since ascending as Crowned Prince, his father had drilled into him that nothing came gratis—everyone acted for gain. The motive might hide at first, but eventually, the cost always surfaced.

Yet here stood Anthony, claiming pure goodwill with no strings, shattering every lesson ingrained in him.

Bryan’s thoughts raced through potential plots Anthony might weave. The deeper he delved, however, the emptier it felt—no sly agenda, no concealed agenda warranting distrust. Anthony gained zilch from plotting against him or Heinz; the scheme made zero sense.

He shut his eyes briefly. Unsure of any lurking deceit, Bryan yearned to seize the offer. Enduring a millennium trapped in the Dragon Domain, emerging only for mandatory errands, chained to relentless demands—that existence suffocated him.

Still, a nagging whisper persisted. Assuming Anthony spoke truth, the pill was safe, and his motives pure, one fear lingered in Bryan's subconscious... his superior talent.

Should Heinz consume the talent pill, might he eclipse Bryan? Both would hit Planetary level, yet hierarchies persisted even there—a Planetary-level Dragon held a ninety percent edge over its Human counterpart.

In that instant, worries about his own gifts flooded him. He, once leading Heinz, could plummet to "the talentless Prince," eclipsed by the sibling he'd outshone.

Anyone handed such a boon would react thus: speculating traps, weighing risks, dissecting every angle. Not all mirrored Lucian, who’d snatch Anthony's talent pill and pop it into Veronica like mere sweets, no hesitation.

While Bryan's mind churned with these fears, Anthony interjected as if peering into his soul. "If you fear your brother overtaking you, rest easy—this pill elevates his talent just so far; his cultivation speed will quicken, yet he'll forever trail a step behind," Anthony reassured, voice even and soothing.

This custom "effect" stemmed from Anthony's precise instructions to the OP system, a calculated tweak anticipating Bryan's predictable qualms.

He'd foreseen this exact hesitation, and no, Bryan wasn't selfish. Such instincts defined the cosmos; no divine force favored the virtuous. Karma's vengeance was a fable for the frail to soothe their failings.