SSS-Class Profession: The Path to Mastery
Chapter 336: The Verdict

Chapter 336: The Verdict

"The voting will now commence," Dr. Zimmermann announced, his voice carrying the weight of historical moment. "Each delegation will proceed to the secure voting chamber individually to ensure complete privacy and prevent any external influence on the decision-making process."

I watched as delegates began filing out of the main conference room, each moving toward what would arguably be the most consequential vote of their political careers. The secure voting chamber was a separate room designed specifically for moments like this. It was soundproof, electronically shielded, and monitored to ensure that no one could coerce or influence another’s decision.

As the room gradually emptied, I remained seated, projecting an image of calm confidence while internally fighting the growing weakness that threatened to overwhelm me. Without the System’s support, my body felt foreign, diminished. It was like trying to operate a machine with half its components suddenly removed.

Finally, the last delegate disappeared into the voting chamber, leaving me alone with Evelyn and Anthony. The moment the door closed behind them, my carefully maintained facade crumbled. .com

My legs gave out entirely. I would have collapsed to the floor if Anthony hadn’t moved with lightning reflexes to catch me, his spy training evident in the smooth way he supported my suddenly deadweight form.

"What the hell—" Anthony started, his voice sharp with alarm and confusion. "Boss, what’s happening to you?"

I tried to speak but found my voice weaker than expected. "Full Profession Sync," I managed to get out. "Twelve hours... no System connection."

Evelyn was immediately at my other side, her blindfolded face turned toward me with the kind of understanding that only came from shared experience. "It’s like when we were trapped on the island," she said quietly, her voice carrying a note of sympathy.

"The exact same cause too," I confirmed, allowing them to help me to my feet. Standing felt like learning to walk again. My muscle mass had noticeably decreased. Not dramatically, but enough that my clothes felt looser, my body lighter in all the wrong ways. It was the disorienting experience of switching bodies and having to get used to an entirely different physical form.

Anthony looked between us with the sharp concern of someone realizing he’d missed crucial information. "Island? You mean the one you were trapped on with the girls? And what do you mean ’exact same cause’?"

"Long story," I said, taking a careful step forward and finding my balance shakier than I’d like. "The important thing is that despite how much I disagree with current perceptions about how to utilize the System, I have to admit I wouldn’t be able to function properly without it."

It was a humbling realization. Here I was, having just delivered a speech about moving beyond System dependence, and I could barely stand without its support. The irony wasn’t lost on me, but it also didn’t invalidate my arguments. The System could be a tool for enhancement without becoming a crutch for validation.

"We need to get you somewhere private," Evelyn said, supporting more of my weight than I was comfortable with. "You can’t let anyone see you like this."

They helped me to a small adjacent room that had been designated for delegates who needed privacy during the voting process. It was simply furnished—a few chairs, a small table, a screen mounted on the wall for monitoring the proceedings. More importantly, it was secure and out of sight from the main areas where delegates might see my condition.

I settled into one of the chairs, grateful for the support, and tried to project at least some semblance of normalcy. The weakness was profound but not debilitating—I could think clearly, speak normally, and maintain basic functions. I just couldn’t access any of my System skills, and my physical condition had reverted to what it would have been without any job-based improvements. Pretty much what it looked like 2 years ago.

"It’s not like I can vote for myself anyway," I said, attempting some levity despite the circumstances. "Might as well wait it out in comfort."

Anthony checked his watch and frowned. "The voting process should take about thirty to forty minutes, given the number of delegates. Are you going to be alright until then?"

"I’ll manage," I replied, though privately I was concerned about what would happen if the weakness got worse. "Just... if anyone asks where I am—"

"I’ve got it covered," Anthony said, his professional instincts taking over. After about twenty-five minutes had passed, he straightened his jacket and headed for the door. "I’m going to go manage the narrative." fre.eweb novel\.c om

I watched him leave, then turned my attention to the screen on the wall. It was displaying the main conference room, where delegates were beginning to return from their individual voting sessions. The atmosphere was noticeably tense. Everyone understood that the next few minutes would determine the course of global governance for years to come.

Anthony reappeared in the frame, walking with the confident stride of someone delivering important information. He approached Dr. Zimmermann and spoke quietly for a moment, gesturing in a way that suggested official business.

Then I heard Zimmermann’s voice through the speakers: "Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve been informed that Mr. Vale was temporarily injured during the recess and has retreated to recover. However, he will be monitoring the vote through the live broadcast."

It was a perfect cover story. Anthony had managed to explain my absence without revealing the true cause, maintaining the fiction that I was simply being cautious rather than fundamentally compromised.

The live broadcast began moments later, and I felt my heart rate increase despite my weakened state. The screen switched to show not just the conference room but a split screen indicating that this vote was being broadcast globally. Millions of people around the world were watching this moment.

Dr. Zimmermann stood at the podium, holding a sealed envelope that contained the results of the voting. "For Mr. Vale to be endorsed as a potential candidate to overthrow the current World President, he requires a two-thirds majority vote. With fifty eligible voting delegates, this means he needs thirty-four affirmative votes."

He opened the envelope with deliberate ceremony, clearly understanding the historical weight of the moment.

"Countries may vote in favor, against, or choose to abstain. I will now announce the results in alphabetical order."

The first few results were predictable. Though it seemed that Australia was having technical issues so his vote would be printed out. Austria voted to abstain, apparently preferring neutrality in this contentious issue.

"Belgium... abstains."

"Brazil... abstains." That made sense—President Santos was focused on her environmental programs and probably viewed this political upheaval as a distraction from her core mission.

"Canada... votes yes."

That surprised me more than it should have. Despite MacLeod’s earlier betrayal, he was voting in my favor. I couldn’t tell whether it was genuine remorse for his earlier actions or simply political calculation—he had publicly supported me before, and changing course now might damage his credibility. Either way, I was grateful for the vote.

"China... votes yes."

Expected, given Liang Mei’s support during the debate.

"Denmark... abstains."

"France... votes yes."

Also expected from Dubois.

The pattern continued, each announcement adding to the growing tension. Some votes were predictable—Germany voted no, as expected from Volkov. Ghana voted yes, thanks to Samuel’s support. Others were surprising—Sweden voted yes despite not being deeply involved in the earlier debates.

"South Korea... votes no."

That stung a bit. Chen’s information broker instincts had apparently led her to side with the status quo despite the arguments I’d made.

"Spain... votes yes."

Interesting. Alvarez had seemed ambivalent during the discussions, but apparently my speech had swayed him.

As the alphabetical progression continued, I found myself keeping a mental tally that my weakened state made more difficult than usual. The numbers were close—much closer than I was comfortable with.

Ten minutes of increasingly tense announcements brought us to the crucial final moments. I could see the delegates leaning forward in their seats, the global audience undoubtedly holding their breath.

Dr. Zimmermann’s voice carried clearly through the speakers: "The current tally stands at thirty-three votes in favor, eleven votes against, and five abstentions."

One vote short. It all came down to the final announcement.

The entire world was watching this single moment. Regardless of whether the last vote was yes or no, history would change. If I won, it would represent the first time in millennia that global leadership had been chosen based on demonstrated capability rather than System-granted titles. If I lost, it would prove that the established order was too entrenched to challenge, even with unprecedented international support.

Through the screen, I could see the faces of delegates who had become allies over the course of this meeting. Samuel looked tense but hopeful. Liang Mei maintained her usual composed expression, but I could see the slight tightness around her eyes that suggested internal stress. Dubois was openly nervous, his diplomatic training insufficient to mask his investment in the outcome.

Even Valeska and Volkov looked strained, understanding that they were moments away from either vindication or a fundamental restructuring of the power dynamics they’d spent decades mastering.

Dr. Zimmermann opened a second envelop and held the final result in his hands, the piece of paper that would determine my fate and the fate of global governance itself.

"The final vote," he announced, his voice carrying across the world, "Australia..."

The pause felt eternal. In that silence, I could feel the weight of everything I’d worked for, every risk I’d taken, every compromise I’d made to reach this moment.

"...votes yes."

The words hit like a physical blow, but one of relief rather than pain. Across the world, cheers erupted from crowds that had been watching the broadcast. In the conference room, I could see some delegates break into smiles—Samuel was grinning openly, Dubois looked like he might cry with relief, and even some of the more reserved representatives were showing signs of satisfaction.

I wanted to celebrate, to stand up and acknowledge the incredible victory that had just been achieved. But my weakened body felt too drained to even lift my arms properly. The triumph was complete, but I could only experience it as a distant observer, watching through a screen as history changed around me.

Thirty-four votes. The exact number needed for a two-thirds majority.

I had won.