[HOST INTEGRITY: 18%]
[LOCATION: THE LAST STOP FACTORY - LOADING DOCK]
[TIME: 2:00 AM]
The factory was finally humming with the rhythm of a functional, albeit illegal, enterprise. Under Lian's cold, efficient supervision, the "Sales Representatives" were bringing in crates of scrap metal, while the Red Bandana Triad's hearse made regular loops to distribute the indigo sticks of Spirit Incense.
Ren Wu stood on the loading dock, watching a pile of copper pipes being weighed. He wasn't thinking about the money. He was thinking about the [Minor Body Refinement Pill]. He needed three more to hit $30\%$ integrity, the threshold where his soul wouldn't feel like it was trying to wear a suit three sizes too small.
"Boss," Lian drifted toward him, her workman's jumpsuit flickering. "We have a problem at the perimeter. A visitor."
Ren didn't look up from his clipboard. "Red Dog's men handle security. Tell them to eat whatever is at the gate."
"Red Dog's men are currently hiding in the boiler room," Lian said flatly. "The visitor didn't bring a weapon. He brought a briefcase."
Ren paused. He slowly turned his head. In the world of the Underworld, a man with a sword was a threat; a man with a briefcase was a catastrophe.
The Corporate Wraith
Standing at the rusted iron gates was a figure that looked like it had been carbon-copied from a high-rise law firm. He wore a pinstripe suit that was so sharp it practically cut the air around it. His skin was a polished, translucent porcelain, and he wore spectacles that glowed with a predatory blue light.
Behind him sat a sleek, black limousine that emitted no engine noise—only the faint, rhythmic sound of a ticking clock.
[ENTITY: LEGAL ATTACHÉ "MR. VANE"]
[AFFILIATION: NETHER-CORE REALTY & HOLDINGS]
[THREAT LEVEL: CEASE AND DESIST]
Ren walked toward the gate, his Mr. Crow mask already in place. The long polymer beak caught the moonlight.
"Mr. Crow, I presume?" the specter said, his voice as smooth as a fresh coat of asphalt. He didn't wait for an answer. He snapped his fingers, and a holographic scroll projected into the air between them.
"I represent Nether-Core Realty," Mr. Vane continued. "We've been monitoring the sudden surge in industrial emissions in Sector 9. It seems you've been operating a Class-F manufacturing plant on Plot 402."
"I have a Class-C Merchant Permit," Ren rasped, his voice-changer adding a layer of gravel. "Issued by the Department of Spiritual Commerce. Exempt status."
"Oh, the permit is lovely," Vane smiled, showing teeth that were perfectly straight and far too numerous. "But a permit gives you the right to trade. it doesn't give you the right to squat. This land was purchased in a private equity buyout in 1994 by our parent company. You are currently in violation of Zoning Ordinance 902: Unauthorized Industrialization of Private Ghost-Space."
He tapped the holographic scroll.
"The fine for the last 48 hours of operation is 15,000 Spirit Coins. Or, you can vacate the premises by dawn and forfeit all machinery as 'Liquidated Damages'."
Jian, who had been peeking from behind a stack of crates, whispered, "15,000? Ren, we only have 400! We're homeless!"
The Counter-Audit
Ren stepped closer to the gate. He didn't look at the scroll. He looked at the limousine.
"Nether-Core Realty," Ren mused. "A subsidiary of the Soul-Gate Conglomerate, I assume? You lot have been busy. Buying up the ruins of the Old World, waiting for the mortal realm to decay so you can claim the residual equity."
"It's called 'Asset Flipping', Mr. Crow," Vane said. "And you are currently an 'Unsecured Debt'. Now, sign the vacation order, or I call the Bailiff Spirits. They don't use clipboards. They use chains."
Ren laughed. It was a dry, hollow sound that echoed inside the beak of his mask.
"You mentioned Plot 402," Ren said. "Tell me, Mr. Vane, did your due diligence team check the Original Deeds? Not the 1994 buyout. I mean the Original ones."
Vane's blue-glowing eyes flickered. "The land was state-owned prior to the buyout. There are no older records."
"There are always older records," Ren said.
He pulled the Tiger Seal from his coat. He didn't flare it for combat. He pressed it against the rusted gate post.
[TECHNIQUE: ANCIENT DEED RETRIEVAL]
The red light of the seal didn't explode; it bled into the iron, then into the ground. The earth beneath the factory groaned. A gold-rimmed system window appeared, but it wasn't the blue modern interface. It was deep, imperial crimson.
[ARCHIVE ACCESSED: THE ETERNAL CENSUS (ERA OF THE NINTH SECTOR)]
[PROPERTY LOG: SECTOR 9, PLOT 402]
[STATUS: GRANTED IN PERPETUITY TO THE 'MINISTRY OF PROVISIONS']
[CONDITION: LAND CANNOT BE SOLD, TRANSFERRED, OR LIQUIDATED WITHOUT THE SIGNATURE OF THE HEAD MINISTER]
Ren looked at Mr. Vane, whose porcelain face was beginning to crack.
"This factory isn't land, Vane," Ren whispered. "It's an Imperial Outpost. By the laws that predate your 'Conglomerate' by fifteen centuries, this plot is sovereign territory of the Ministry. Your 1994 purchase was an illegal transaction of state-owned assets."
Ren leaned into the gate.
"Which means you are the one trespassing. And by my calculations, the 'Holding Fee' for your limousine sitting on Imperial soil for the last five minutes is... let's see..."
Ren tapped his own clipboard.
"5,000 Coins. Per minute."
The Settlement
The "Legal Attaché" froze. In the Underworld, Law was power. If Ren could prove a prior claim from the Imperial Era, Nether-Core's entire portfolio in Sector 9 would be put under a 'Legal Freeze'. It would cost them millions in lost revenue.
"You... you can't prove you represent the Ministry," Vane hissed.
Ren held up the Tiger Seal. The characters for AUTHORITY glowed with an undeniable, ancient heat.
"I am the signatory, Vane. Do you want to take this to the High Court of Reincarnation? I'm sure they'd love to audit your company's 'Asset Flipping' practices."
Mr. Vane took a step back. He snapped his fingers, and the holographic scroll vanished.
"This is... a clerical oversight," Vane said, his voice losing its oily sheen. "We will be in touch with our historical consultants."
"Leave the 5,000 coins for the parking fee," Ren said, pointing to the ground. "Or I file the injunction before the sun rises."
Vane's eyes burned with hatred, but he reached into his suit and pulled out a heavy, silken pouch. He dropped it in the dirt.
"You've made a very powerful enemy, Mr. Crow."
"I've had those for breakfast for two thousand years," Ren replied. "Close the gate on your way out."
The limousine sped away, leaving a trail of black smoke and a terrified silence.
The New Bottom Line
Ren picked up the pouch. It was heavy.
[REVENUE ACQUIRED: 5,000 SPIRIT COINS (EXTORTION/LEGAL SETTLEMENT)]
[CURRENT CAPITAL: 5,400 COINS]
Jian ran up, staring at the bag. "Ren! You just... you just robbed a lawyer! That's impossible! Everyone knows lawyers are the top of the food chain!"
"In a world of rules, Jian, the man who knows the oldest rules is the apex predator," Ren said, taking off his mask. His face was pale, his $18\%$ integrity taxed by the deep-dive into the Imperial Archives.
He looked at the bag of coins.
"Lian," Ren called out.
The ghost foreman appeared instantly. "Yes, Boss?"
"Double the production. Buy the high-grade Soul Grinders from the black market. And get me three Body Refinement Pills."
Ren's eyes gleamed with a cold, corporate fire.
"Nether-Core will be back. And next time, they won't bring a briefcase. They'll bring an army."
Ren looked at the system alert.
[QUEST UPDATED: DEFEND THE ASSETS]
[MARKET SHARE: 5% (SECTOR 9)]
[WARNING: THE CONGLOMERATE IS WATCHING]
"Let them watch," Ren whispered. "I need the publicity."