The Insolvency Protocol
Location: Penthouse Kitchen -- Apex Tower.
Time: 06:00 AM (Day 4 Post-Inauguration).
Silence.
In Zero Point City, silence is a luxury commodity only bought with power. Down there, on the streets, the city was already screaming—the sound of hover-car horns, the hiss of Valdor factory steam, and the shouts of black market traders. But up here, on the 100th floor, the world felt mute.
I stood in front of a two-meter-high double-door fridge made of brushed steel layered with stasis-field. A monument of food preservation technology.
I opened it.
Empty.
White LED light illuminated clean, stainless glass shelves. No synthetic meat. No Ambrosia. No imported Aurum fruit juice.
In the middle of that spacious middle shelf sat one lonely object.
One Behemoth egg.
Its shell thick, brown speckled with blue. It was the last egg from "Old Wynter's" supplies—a figure I couldn't remember, who apparently lived like a prince before I took over his bankrupt body.
I took the egg. Heavy and cold in my hand.
"Thank you, fridge," I whispered to the machine. Thin white vapor came from my mouth, a sign of my perpetually low body temperature. "You are an unsung hero. You fed me when I forgot how to live. And now, we've reached the end of the road."
I turned on the induction stove. The hot pan sizzled as I cracked the egg. Its large yolk melted, the only bright color in this gray morning.
It smelled savory. Luxurious. But as I ate it, it tasted bitter.
This was the last free bite.
While chewing, I raised my left hand. The Smart-ID lit up, projecting a pathetic blue hologram over my breakfast plate.
[PERSONAL ACCOUNT: WYNTER ASH]
[CURRENT BALANCE: 45 LUX]
I scrolled down, searching for hope.
[GRAND PRAETOR SALARY: PENDING]
Status: Annual Bureaucratic Audit. Estimated Disbursement: 7 Days.
[ACADEMY SCHOLARSHIP: WITHHELD]
Status: Academic Review Post-Absence.
I put down the fork with a hard clink.
"Forty-five Lux," I hissed.
I am the Grand Praetor. I have the authority to freeze a city block. I have a 'guard dog' that can crush concrete bare-handed. I have a genius secretary who can memorize laws in his sleep.
But I don't have money to buy lunch for them.
Power without logistics is just a hallucination. And right now, I am a Beggar King sitting on a golden throne.
Location: Grand Praetor's Office -- Nexus Hall.
Time: 09:00 AM.
The situation in the office wasn't better. In fact, worse. The air was tense, not from enemy threats, but from the threat of poverty.
"I need meat, Boss," Kara grumbled.
She sat on my work desk—not on a chair—while sharpening her command knife. She stared at the tray of synthetic protein porridge in front of her with a murderous gaze.
"My body burns calories three times a normal human's," she continued, pointing at her scar-filled biceps. "If I eat this starch glue again, I'll start chewing the table legs. Or Rian's legs."
In the corner, Rian paled. He was hugging his tablet tightly, as if it were a shield.
"D-don't eat me," Rian squeaked. "I'm full of cholesterol."
On the other side, Sister Elara—my newest recruit from Aethelgard—was checking the office first aid kit stock with a terrifyingly calm face.
"Praetor," her voice was soft but firm. "The Mana-Ether and regenerative bandage stock is out. If Kara decides to punch the wall again and breaks her hand, I can only treat her with prayer. And prayer doesn't set bones."
"How much does it cost?" I asked flatly. I sat in my grandeur chair, trying to look authoritative even though my stomach was starting to ache.
"For basic medical stock for one week? About 300 Lux," Elara answered.
"And meat for Kara?"
"200 Lux. Minimum," Kara replied.
I turned to Rian. "Financial report."
Rian swallowed. He tapped his tablet, projecting a red bar chart into the air.
"That's... not the biggest problem, Praetor. The problem is utilities."
Rian pointed at one line of numbers blinking aggressively.
"This office is overdue on electricity bills amounting to 1,000 Lux. Due at 12:00 noon today. If not paid, the City Council will conduct unilateral disconnection."
"Disconnection?" I repeated.
"Pitch dark, Sir. No AC. No computers. No automatic door locks. We'll be sitting in darkness."
"Total urgent needs: 1,500 Lux," I calculated quickly. "Cash balance: 45 Lux."
We weren't just poor anymore. We were insolvent. Bankrupt.
Silence fell upon the room. Kara stopped sharpening her knife. Elara closed the medicine cabinet. Rian looked down. They all stared at me. Waiting for a solution from The Leader.
I closed my eyes. The cold in my body—from the Ice circuits—felt more piercing as I stressed.
I couldn't wait for salary. I couldn't borrow (my credit was ruined). I needed a fresh cash injection. Now.
My brain spun, sorting through assets I had.
I had no money. But I had information.
I remembered today's appointment. An appointment with the greediest woman in Zero Point City, desperate to recover her stock losses because of my speech.
I opened my eyes. A thin, cold smile carved itself on my lips.
"Rian," I commanded. "Prepare coffee. The bitter kind."
"Coffee? But the electricity..."
"We're not paying electricity with our own money," I cut him off. "We'll pay it with other people's greed."
I raised my Smart-ID and typed a short message.
TO: DIRECTOR VIANNA (AURUM)
CONTENT: Logistics data ready. Come alone. Bring your wallet.
Time: 10:30 AM.
Vianna didn't walk. She glided into my office on limited edition Mag-Lev levitating shoes, surrounded by an aura of expensive perfume and corporate arrogance.
Two mini guard drones hummed behind her, but Kara only needed to glance at those drones once, and the small machines seemed to retreat fearfully.
Vianna sat in the visitor's chair, crossing her legs. She didn't waste time.
"I'm busy, Ash," she said sharply. "The stock market opens in fifteen minutes. Where's the logistics data drive you promised? Elara Voss changed the morning wheat delivery schedule, and I need that data to do short-selling on the food exchange."
I twirled a black data chip between my fingers.
"This?" I asked.
Vianna's eyes lit up. Her digital pupils dilated, scanning the chip. "Give it."
"No."
I clenched the chip tightly.
Vianna frowned. Her perfectly plastic-surgered beautiful face cracked with anger. "We have a deal, Wynter. You give data, I recover my losses. Don't play games."
"The situation changed, Vianna," I said calmly, leaning back. "I can't give this. Because I'm bankrupt."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Everything," I answered. "If I give you this data now, you'll make a huge profit. You'll recover your 40 Million loss. But me? I'll stay poor. This office will lose power at 12 noon. My staff will starve. And tomorrow morning, I'll be found frozen dead in a gutter because I can't afford a heater."
I leaned forward.
"And corpses can't pay the rest of their debt to you, Vianna."
Vianna's face flushed red. She stood, her finger pointing at my face.
"This is blackmail! I'll report you to the Oversight Council! You're withholding public assets for personal gain. That's fraud!"
Kara moved in the corner, ready to pounce, but I raised a hand, holding her back.
"Sit down, Vianna," I said coldly.
I tapped the desk. A holographic screen appeared in the air. Not a financial graph. But a video recording.
CCTV footage from my Penthouse a few days ago (Chapter 6).
On the screen, it was clearly Vianna—The Aurum Director—illegally breaking into the Grand Praetor's residence, damaging property, and most incriminating: ordering two military combat drones to aim at the Grand Praetor's head.
Vianna's face turned deathly pale.
"You... recorded that?"
"Automated security system," I lied. "Now, let's talk legal logic. I have Diplomatic Immunity as Praetor. You don't. If this video leaks to the Oversight Council... or worse, to the Public."
I snapped my fingers.
"Aurum stocks won't just drop 4%. Your shares will become dust. An Aurum CEO caught red-handed attempting to assassinate a high-ranking Senate official? That's the definition of a domestic terrorist. Your assets will be frozen. Your career is over. Your losses will be far greater than 44 Million."
Vianna slumped back into her chair. She lost. She knew it.
"What do you want?" she hissed. "Cash? How much?"
"Not charity," I answered. "I need an employee."
"An employee?"
"I have Muscle," I pointed at Kara. "I have a Brain," I pointed at Rian. "I have a Medic," I pointed at Elara.
"But I don't have a Bloodsucker."
I placed the data chip on the desk, sliding it towards Vianna.
"Take the position. Senate Treasurer."
Vianna stared at me as if I were crazy. "You want me... to work for you?"
"I want you to work for us," I corrected. "Use this chip data. Manage my office's finances. Spin the Senate budget money in your dirty stock market. Do insider trading, market manipulation, whatever you want. You're the expert."
I gave a thin smile.
"We split the profit. 50% goes into this office's operational fund to pay electricity and salaries. The remaining 50%... goes into your personal account as installment for my debt."
Vianna's eyes blinked. She did quick calculations.
"You're paying me with money from my own work?" she asked disbelievingly.
"I'm giving you access, Vianna. And legal protection. Under the Senate banner, your market activities become 'Strategic National Operations'. Tax-free. Audit-free."
Silence for a moment. I saw greed battling ego in her eyes. Greed won. Always.
"55% for me," Vianna bargained sharply. "And I need priority access to the cargo lift."
"Deal."
"But there's one problem," Vianna said, her tone changing from enemy to business partner. "Spinning this logistics data takes at least 24 hours to liquidate into cash. You need money by 12 noon today for electricity, right?"
"Correct."
Vianna smirked. A predator's smile.
"Then we can't play the stock market today. We need a more... direct method."
She stood, straightening her blazer.
"I know a place where cash flows faster than blood. An illegal casino in the Eastern Sector. The Velvet Chip. They've been stealing my gambling market for a month now."
She glanced at Kara and me alternately.
"You need quick cash? We rob them. In the name of 'State Asset Seizure', of course."
Location: The Velvet Chip -- Hidden Basement, Eastern Sector.
Time: 11:15 AM.
The casino's steel door exploded inward.
Not from a bomb. But because Kara kicked it so hard the hinges surrendered to physics.
"SANITATION CLEANUP!" Kara shouted gleefully, charging into the room full of cigarette smoke and holographic gambling tables.
Panic erupted. Gamblers—a mix of mercenaries and wealthy traders—scrambled. Casino security guards tried to draw weapons, but they weren't prepared for a Valdor monster.
Kara moved like a storm. One punch, one guard flew crashing into a slot machine. A Jackpot sounded loudly along with breaking bones.
Behind her, I stepped in calmly, my Grand Praetor robe fluttering. Cold vapor emanated from my body, freezing anyone trying to approach.
"Arbiter! Run!" someone shouted.
"Not an Arbiter," Vianna corrected, walking beside me while tapping her tablet. "This is a Financial Audit."
Vianna didn't fight. She walked to the main cashier terminal. Her drone fired a cutting laser at the digital vault lock.
"Rian!" I shouted.
Rian ran in trembling, holding an official Senate stamp and a stack of seizure forms.
"G-good afternoon, fellow citizens!" Rian shouted with a breaking voice, trying to sound official amidst the brawl. "Based on Article 9 Paragraph 2, this place is declared illegal! All assets seized for the state treasury! Please queue for receipts!"
Kara threw a guard towards the roulette table. The wheel spun wildly.
"My meat!" Kara shouted while punching. "Where's the money for my meat?!"
I stood in the middle of that chaos, observing. A fire element wizard tried to attack me from the side.
I simply raised my left hand.
Heat Absorption.
The fire in his hand extinguished instantly, its energy sucked into my body, warming my cold self. The wizard fell to his knees, shivering hypothermically.
"Thanks for the donation," I said flatly.
"Vault open!" Vianna exclaimed.
Inside, stacks of physical Lux and Credit Chips glittered.
"Take enough for this month's operations," I ordered. "The rest... burn. We don't want inflation."
Vianna stared at me horrified. "Burning money?"
"That's the message, Vianna. We're here to enforce rules, not just rob. That's the difference between us and thugs."
Location: Grand Praetor's Office.
Time: 12:05 PM.
The office lights blinked once, then shone bright and stable.
Electricity paid.
On the central table, the atmosphere changed drastically.
Kara sat with her feet on the table, devouring real beef steak (premium import) with bare hands. Sauce dripped on her chin, but she looked happier than a newlywed.
Elara was arranging new medicine stock in the gleaming glass cabinet. She hummed softly, her fingers dancing between Mana-Ether and Class A Anti-Toxin bottles.
Rian, though still looking shocked post-robbery, was counting stacks of Lux on the table with a relieved smile. Electricity bill paid. Salaries safe.
And Vianna... she sat in her own corner, typing fast on her new tablet, moving the stolen funds to various shadow accounts to be "laundered" through the stock market. She already got her seed capital.
I stood near the large glass window, staring at The Great Tether in the distance. My stomach was full (Rian bought me a decent lunch). The cold in my body was under control.
I looked at my reflection in the glass. No longer a confused amnesiac student. No longer a beggar king.
I turned to look at them.
The paranoid Genius.
The bloodthirsty Madwoman.
The manipulative Spy.
And the greedy Bloodsucker.
A bunch of outcasts, criminals, and opportunists.
"My team is complete," I whispered softly, a sideways smile carved on my face.
We're not heroes. Far from it. But in this sick city, perhaps poison can be the medicine.
"Rian," I called.
"Yes, Praetor?"
"Schedule a strategy meeting tomorrow morning. We have money now. Now..."
My red eyes gleamed.
"...it's time we start burning this city. Or saving it. Whichever is more profitable."
**