[HOST INTEGRITY: 27%]
[LOCATION: THE GOLDEN LOTUS HOTEL - GRAND BALLROOM]
[TIME: 8:00 PM]
The Invitation had arrived at the factory gates at noon.
It wasn't paper. It was a slab of jade carved with a dragon, smelling of sandalwood and unspoken threats.
[INVITATION: THE SECTOR 9 COMMERCE BANQUET]
[HOST: THE WANG CLAN OF THE SOUTHERN PEAKS]
[GUEST: MR. CROW (REPRESENTATIVE OF THE LAST STOP FACTORY)]
"It's a trap," Jian said, adjusting his tie in the reflection of the limousine window. "Obviously. They invited you to their territory, surrounded by their guards, to 'discuss business.' That's mob code for a public execution."
"It is a trap," Ren agreed, smoothing the lapels of his black suit. He wore the Crow Mask, its polymer beak gleaming under the streetlights. "But in the Underworld, refusing a banquet is worse than dying. It is an admission of weakness."
Ren looked out the window.
The Golden Lotus Hotel was a massive pagoda-style skyscraper that pierced the smog of Sector 9.
It didn't belong here. It was a fortress of wealth dropped into a slum.
Ghostly valets were parking Ferraris and spectral carriages. The air smelled of roasted spirit-beast and heavy incense.
"Stay in the car," Ren ordered Jian.
"Gladly," Jian breathed.
"Red Dog," Ren commanded.
The massive Triad boss, squeezed into a tuxedo that looked like it was about to explode, grunted.
"I'm here, Boss. But I don't like it. The air..." Red Dog flared his nostrils. "It smells like old blood and new money."
"Just hold the door," Ren said. "And don't eat the hors d'oeuvres. They're probably poisoned."
The Lion's Den
The ballroom was a kaleidoscope of gold and red.
Hundreds of guests—wealthy ghosts, corrupt Reapers, and minor Warlords—mingled under chandeliers made of floating soul-crystals.
Ren walked in, Red Dog flanking him like a bodyguard made of granite.
The room went quiet.
Or rather, the frequency changed.
Every eye turned to the man in the Crow Mask.
They had heard the rumors. The man who stopped the Bailiffs. The man who monopolized the iron.
"Mr. Crow," a voice boomed.
Wang Bo stood at the head of the room, on a raised dais.
He wasn't wearing his school uniform. He wore traditional golden robes embroidered with a five-clawed dragon.
He looked regal. Arrogant. And dangerously calm.
"I didn't think a street peddler would have the courage to attend," Wang Bo said, descending the stairs.
His amber dragon eyes locked onto Ren's mask.
Ren didn't bow.
"I like free food," Ren rasped, his voice distorted. "Even if the host has poor taste in decor."
The crowd gasped.
"Gold on red?" Ren continued, gesturing to the gaudy walls. "In the Third Dynasty, this color combination was reserved for brothels. It hides the stains."
Wang Bo's smile twitched.
"Sharp tongue," Wang Bo said softly. "Let's see if you can keep it."
Wang Bo snapped his fingers.
The air in the ballroom shifted.
It wasn't an attack. It was a Lockdown.
Four men in black robes stepped out from the shadows of the pillars. They held long, wooden staves slammed against the floor.
THOOM.
A barrier of golden light erected around Ren and Wang Bo, cutting them off from the rest of the party.
Red Dog roared and lunged, but he bounced off the barrier like a fly hitting a windshield.
"This is a private conversation," Wang Bo said.
He walked closer, circling Ren like a shark.
"You humiliated me at school this morning. And tonight, you walk in here with the same Ogre bodyguard."
Wang Bo laughed, shaking his head.
"Did you think the mask would hide you? Or did you think I was too stupid to connect the dots? Ren Wu."
Ren went still.
"You threatened my family with a lawsuit," Wang Bo continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You think because you know a few loopholes, you are powerful? You are a merchant. I am a Dragon."
He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a scroll.
It wasn't a normal scroll. It was glowing with a suffocating, heavy pressure.
[WARNING: CLASS A ARTIFACT DETECTED]
[ITEM: THE MAGISTRATE'S SILENCE]
Ren's eyes widened behind the mask.
A Silence Writ. An artifact used to gag prisoners before execution so they couldn't curse the Emperor.
"You talk too much, peddler," Wang Bo whispered.
He ripped the scroll open.
"By the Order of the Southern Peaks: SILENCE."
[STATUS EFFECT APPLIED: MUTE]
[DURATION: UNTIL REVOKED]
Ren felt invisible hands clamp around his throat.
He opened his mouth to speak his own Word of Power.
Nothing came out.
His vocal cords were paralyzed. The concept of "Sound" had been deleted from his throat.
Wang Bo smiled. It was a cruel, beautiful smile.
"Better."
Ren tried to summon the Tiger Seal.
He focused his Authority. KNEEL, he screamed in his mind.
He pushed his will against the Silence Writ.
CRACK.
Pain exploded in Ren's chest.
[HOST INTEGRITY: 27% -> 24%]
[WARNING: VESSEL CRITICAL]
[ERROR: INSUFFICIENT BODY STRENGTH TO BREAK CLASS-A SEAL]
Ren staggered, coughing.
Black blood sprayed the inside of his mask.
He couldn't break it. His soul was strong enough, but his body was too weak. If he pushed harder, his throat wouldn't open—it would explode.
Wang Bo leaned in close.
"Look at you," he whispered. "Weak. Fragile. You're bleeding just from standing near me."
Wang Bo pulled out a phone. He showed Ren a photo.
It was a photo of a small, old house with a garden.
Grandma Wu's house.
"I did some digging," Wang Bo said casually. "Ren Wu. Student. Son of... what were they? Scavengers? Archaeologists digging in the dirt?"
He tapped the screen.
"This old woman... she seems fragile. Accidents happen in Sector 9 all the time. Gas leaks. Fires."
Ren's hands clenched into fists. His nails bit into his palms until they bled.
You have no idea who she is, Ren thought, a cold fury rising in his chest. She is a Warden. She has bound demons stronger than your father.
But she was retired. She was hiding. If Wang Bo attacked her, she would have to reveal herself, and the entire Underworld would descend on her.
"I want your factory," Wang Bo stated.
He pulled a contract from his robe.
"Sign it. Transfer the deed to the Wang Clan. Do it, and I let the old woman live. Refuse..."
He swiped the screen. The photo changed to a live feed of the house.
A shadow was standing on Grandma Wu's porch.
"Refuse, and my man knocks on her door."
The ballroom watched in silence.
They saw the "powerful" Mr. Crow standing frozen, head bowed, trembling.
They thought he was afraid.
They didn't see the eyes behind the mask.
Ren wasn't trembling from fear.
He was trembling because he was checking his balance.
[CURRENT CAPITAL: 14,000 SPIRIT COINS]
[KARMA: 1,110]
Ren looked at Wang Bo.
He looked at the contract.
He looked at the Silence Writ floating in the air, mocking him.
You want to play the rich kid game? Ren thought.
You want to use artifacts? Money? Privilege?
Ren closed his eyes.
He opened the [System Shop].
He didn't look at the potions. He didn't look at the guns.
He looked at the [SPECIAL OFFERS] tab.
There it was.
The item that had unlocked when he reached Shop Level 2, but he had been too cheap to buy.
[ITEM: MYSTERY BOX - THE IMPERIAL DECREE (SEALED)]
[COST: 10,000 COINS]
[DESCRIPTION: A random edict from the Lost Era. Contains the wrath of a King. Warning: May cause collateral damage to reality.]
It was a gamble.
It cost almost everything he had.
But Ren was done playing by the rules.
Purchase, Ren commanded.
[TRANSACTION COMPLETE]
[REMAINING FUNDS: 4,000 COINS]
A small, wooden box appeared in Ren's hand.
It was plain, wrapped in yellow silk.
But the moment it appeared, the golden barrier around them flickered. The lights in the ballroom dimmed.
Wang Bo frowned. "What is that? A bribe?"
Ren looked up.
He didn't need his voice to open a box.
He pulled the silk cord.
SNAP.
The lid flew open.
A golden light exploded outward—not the flashy gold of the Wang family, but the deep, heavy, terrifying gold of The Old Law.
The Silence Writ hovering in the air screamed.
It shattered into dust instantly. The artifact couldn't exist in the presence of the Decree.
Ren inhaled. The air rushed back into his lungs.
He tasted iron. He tasted ash. He tasted power.
He didn't shout.
He whispered one word that turned the banquet hall into a graveyard.
"Audit."
[CLIFFHANGER]
[NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW: The Young Master learns that some things cannot be bought. They can only be taxed.]