Official raid or black, the routine was etched into his soul. Now, he was living it again.
Yggy moved like a phantom along the obsidian spine of Tower 27's 100th floor, a blistering 300 kilometers from anything he could call home. His boots barely whispered against the metal before another pulse of Aether surged through him: a silent command to scan, lock, and grasp.
A glint of relic shimmered in the dust-choked vault below. Without pausing, he extended his left hand, flexing his will like a muscle. A sharp, invisible force lanced downwards, wrenching the item from its ancient display and suspending it in the air. Another surge, this one a sharp crackle of power, transferred the Aether. A cool, blue ripple traced its way up his arm as his fingertips brushed his notebook. The relic vanished, its essence captured and cataloged.
Page 89. Stored. Done.
He carried fifty such notebooks, each a silent archive filled to the brim with loot. Labeled. Sorted. They were a ledger of treasures gathered from every shadow-drenched floor he had ever risked his life on.
Then the world shook.
A deep, concussive BOOM rattled his teeth, followed by another, and another. The very air vibrated with violent force. Yggy's head snapped to the left just as Garret erupted into view. He was a crimson comet, rocket-stepping off shattered floor tiles in explosive bursts, his armor ablaze with kinetic fire. His Crimsword carved searing red arcs through the gloom, its edge glowing white-hot from overcharge.
And then he appeared.
The floor boss.
The group gave it a call sign—Piggy.
Soft name.
Cruel joke.
Up close? It looked nothing like its name.
A mountain of swollen muscle and distorted flesh, ringed with horns and eyes that glowed molten red. Its nose flared with steam as it charged—then bounced, rebounding off a fractured column with such force it spun mid-air like a cannonball.
360-turn—clang!
Its massive golden rake came swinging, wide enough to clear a ten-man squad in one sweep.
Every stomp it made cracked the floor. Every roar warped the very air.
Despite it all—the group hadn't even scratched it.
Not a drop of blood. Not a flinch.
And yet, they kept dancing.
Movements are sharp. Perfect. Precise.
It wasn't raw power—it was wealth.
Their armor shimmered like liquid royalty. Their weapons gleamed as if freshly forged. They fought like gods born in luxury—each swing measured in credits, each breath paid for in platinum.
They weren't just geared.
They were equipped to win.
Yggy shook his head no time to gawk.
Five minutes left.
Five more minutes to loot everything.
He forced his eyes away from the battlefield. He'd seen this scene too many times—Raiders and Hunters clashing with floor bosses in brutal stalemates. It always started with confidence... and ended in body bags.
Prolong the fight too long?
Annihilation.
He recalled Garret's words from the tactical briefing—spoken with absolute steel:
"Our goal isn't to kill the boss. Just stall it. You loot. We keep it busy."
But what lingered more than strategy…
Was that survivor's warning?
Sacrifice.
That word had stayed in Yggy's gut like a swallowed nail.
He remembered the quiet around the table.
Then Garret's reassurance.
"No sacrifice. Marlo's shield is a taunting relic; it can draw aggro for two minutes. That's our window."
Two minutes.
It sounded like nothing.
But with their speed?
It was everything.
ROOAAARRRR!!!
Piggy screamed.
A low, guttural bellow that shook the pillars.
Yggy glanced back and saw it.
Blood.
Streaming from its ribs, its sides torn open.
The group had landed some hits.
They weren't just stalling, they were winning.
His notebook burned with Aether—ink glowing, pages flickering from the volume of treasure sealed inside.
99.9% complete.
He dashed for the last relic—a curved obsidian blade resting on a cracked pedestal. A katana
While dashing took a flare gun then
Shoot Psshhhh
A red flare whistled into the air—his signal.
Garret caught the sign instantly.
He barked an order
Marlo stepped forward.
His tower shield expanded with a mechanical grind glowing glyphs igniting along its edges. Then
BOOM.
He slammed it down.
Piggy's eyes snapped toward him.
Aggro secured.
Two minutes.
Yggy grab the blade and whispered under his breath,hugging it like a trophy
"Last one."
He turned.
Time to run.
BOOM. BOOM.
The thunder of the massive vault doors echoed—then sealed shut.
A deafening clang.
"What?!" someone yelled.
Everyone froze.
Even Piggy.
Then—
CRACK!
Piggy's bloated form collapsed, almost like it had imploded.
In its place…
Piggy's form imploded in a wet pop. From the vacuum, a shadow erupted—a beast of steel and flame materialized from nothing, its fangs dripping fire.
Before a scream could form, it was through Marlo.
A wet SHNK!
A single, curved claw skewered him clean through.
"MAR—!"
The beast twisted. A flick of its wrist—a sound of tearing meat. Blood sprayed as Marlo's body was ripped in three, torn apart like paper. His shield clattered, a useless echo in the sudden silence.
Silence.
Then chaos.
"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" Garret roared.
"PORTER!!!! WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
Yggy's eyes went wide. "I didn't do anything! I swear!"
Then—WHOOOM!
A wave hit them.
An aura.
Invisible—but undeniable.
A surge of pressure and malevolence crashed through the room like a typhoon. Everyone staggered—some dropped to their knees.
The wolf beast snarled—louder now. Its form shifted again, spines growing, shoulders widening. Its eyes pulsed gold.
Then…
The wall.
The very wall itself once solid blue concrete began to melt.
No…reconfigure.
Lines etched themselves across the surface, glowing circuitry patterns, reshaping into a wide display.
[Greed Awakening System has Activated]
Text burned across the wall in blood-red glyphs.
[ Choose what you will sacrifice. ]
[ A desire shall be granted. ]
Yggy blinked…
Something was in his hand.
Cold.
Sharp.
A knife.
He wasn't alone.
Each of them now held the same obsidian-handled blade.
Uniform.
Mocking.
"What the hell is this…." someone muttered, shaking.
The wolf crept closer.
The system pulsed again.
Awaiting an answer.
"What the hell?!"
The five Rank-C hunters scattered like rats, saving their own skin, sprinting between the towering boulders, ducking behind debris.
Cowards.
None of them even tried to fight.
Vince was dancing as he threw the blade then clashing wildly against the beast's claws with bow and destructive arrow, completely outmatched.
And Me?
I was hauling bags.
Each one heavy—packed with notebooks.
Each notebook packed with loot.Too slow. Too heavy.
I clenched my teeth—
Then I felt a presence.
Garret.
He was suddenly beside me—too close.
His face was unreadable.
He grabbed one of my bags.
"This is my sacrifice!" he barked…
ZAP!
PAIN.
A blinding flash.
A red streak across my vision.
Something hot and wet splattered against my face.
The world tilted—then dropped out from under me.
I hit the ground hard.
"My right leg—dead weight. A sharp, burning rip where the tendon had been severed, leaving the limb useless but still attached."
My left arm— Gone.
From elbow to fingertips, it spun through the air in slow, horrible arcs, blood fountaining from the stump in rhythm with my heartbeat.
The katana, the last piece of loot I was holding, now clattered to the ground, my eyes locked on it in disbelief.
For a moment, the pain didn't even register just a deafening, static roar in my skull.
Then the fire hit.
"Wh–what the fuck?!" I choked out, voice breaking.
Garret looked down.
Expression flat.
Then, like it was a math equation:
"Remember the deal? 50/50."
He lifted the bag, blood-slick and heavy, before letting it fall with a wet thud. My blood seeped into the dirt as my gaze slid to the blade, its edge weeping red, drop after drop.
"There. That's your cut, share it with others."
Then, the panel embedded in the blue concrete wall flickered…
The message [Greed Awakening System has Activated] began to glitch.
It cracked. Crumbled. Reformed.
A new line emerged on the digital stone screen:
[What is it that you desire, Garret Cain?]
Garret's eyes widened. He took a shaky step forward and screamed, "I want to escape from here!"
The knife in his hand dissolved into gold light—morphed—then solidified into a large brass key.
A loud mechanical clunk echoed.
The exit door groaned… and cracked open. Just slightly.
"Trixie! Vince! Dela Cruz Maim the C-ranks—NOW!" Garret barked with wild urgency.
Without hesitation, Trixie moved…
A blur of motion.
She slid across the floor, boots skimming dust, then swept low.
Her blade whispered through the air…
Shhk!
She cut clean across the ankle tendons of one of the Rank C members.
The man collapsed hard.. Ahhh… screaming not from pain, but from betrayal.
Eyes wide. Tears welling.
He stared at Trixie as if reality itself had torn.
He couldn't move his foot.
Couldn't even stand.
Then, the panel on the wall changed again:
[Trixie Vale — What Do You Desire?]
She didn't pause. She shouted back, "I want to escape!"
The knife in her grip shimmered…
And turned into another key.
Clack… Clack… Clack…
The door creaked open wider…
Just enough to tempt hope.
Then the wall flickered again…
And the message returned, unchanging, cold:
[Greed Awakening System has Activated]