"You want my life?"
The vampire Prince laughed like he'd heard the world's greatest joke. His fangs gleamed bone-white as terrifying pressure filled the room, making every clock freeze mid-tick.
"Human, I am Prince of Clan Brujah! You insignificant ant—"
*SLAM!*
Ethan's finger hit the ledger. The sound wasn't loud, but it struck like a hammer to the heart.
"In here, you're not a prince."
Ethan adjusted his glasses. Through [Death's Eye], this noble bloodsucker transformed into walking, succulent green code.
"You're just a pathetic creature craving sunlight. Nobody but me can save you."
The red glow in the Prince's eyes froze solid.
Five hundred years. Endless wealth, yet forced to live like a rat in sewers. That pain hurt worse than death itself.
His killing intent retreated. The Prince narrowed his eyes. "Prove it."
"System, synthesize." Ethan commanded silently.
**[Warning: Synthesizing [Pseudo-Sunlight Immunity] requires 30 years host lifespan. Execute?]**
"Deduct it."
His heart clenched like someone had extracted bone marrow. Ethan's face paled, but his hands stayed steady.
He opened his palm. A capsule flowing with pale gold light materialized from nothing.
Thirty years of pure life force crystallized with "Fraud Rules."
"Swallow it." Ethan ordered.
The Prince hesitated half a second, then tilted his head back and swallowed.
The next moment, his pale skin flushed with eerie vitality. Trembling, he reached toward the curtain gap—where deadly reflected moonlight waited.
No burning. No smoke. Only long-missed warmth!
"This... this is real!" The Prince's ecstasy made him want to kneel and praise the sun itself.
"Trial version only."
Ethan coldly interrupted his climax. "Want the full package? I need 200 years lifespan plus copying rights to your [Vampire Constitution]."
"Deal! Give it to me now!"
The Prince didn't even haggle. For immortal beings, 200 years was just one nap.
**[Transaction complete.]**
**[Deposit: 200 years. Balance: 208 years.]**
**[Acquired: Vampire Constitution (weakened). Side effect: mild bloodthirst.]**
Cold energy flooded his limbs. Ethan clenched his fist—nails sharpened slightly, nearsightedness instantly cured.
Watching the Prince leave with endless gratitude, Ethan's mouth curved in mockery.
*Idiot.*
*That capsule expires in thirty days.*
*Next month, you'll crawl back begging for renewal. Welcome to subscription economics.*
*Ding-a-ling—*
Wind chimes exploded, but this time no customer entered—just the stench of corpses.
Black fog rolled outside. A ghost officer in Qing Dynasty uniform floated in, wielding a mourning staff.
Underworld debt collector, Zhao Si.
"Old Ghost Zhang died? New shopkeeper looks pretty green."
Zhao Si slapped down a seal the moment he entered, nostrils flaring. "One hundred years lifespan tax. Miss one year, we tear down a wall. Miss ten years, we drag your soul away! Also, this month's tea money is overdue, right?"
The remnant soul Old Zhang behind the counter trembled, desperately signaling Ethan: *This guy's ruthless—don't provoke him!*
Ethan closed his ledger, leisurely checking his balance.
208 years.
From dying pauper to tycoon holding two centuries—all in one night.
"You want a hundred years?"
Ethan opened his drawer, pulling out a system-generated blank lifespan check. He picked up his pen, scribbling numbers.
Then he stood, walking to Zhao Si.
Zhao Si grinned wickedly, reaching out. "Smart move. From now on in the underworld, I'll cover—"
*SLAP!*
Sharp crack!
Ethan backhanded the check across Zhao Si's face!
"That's a hundred years principal."
*SLAP!*
Another backhand sent Zhao Si spinning three times.
Ethan held another check between two fingers, pressing it against Zhao Si's swollen ghost face. "That's fifty years tip."
"Take the money and get lost."
Zhao Si was stunned, about to explode when his gaze hit the check. His knees buckled instantly.
*Purple-gold!*
That purity... only the Ten Yama Kings could afford "high-dimensional pure lifespan"!
*This kid isn't human—he's some powerful being's bastard son descended to earth!*
"Oh my! Great sir, you're magnanimous!"
Zhao Si's face changed faster than flipping pages. He grabbed the checks, kowtowing frantically. "This lowly one was blind! I'll roll back to the underworld immediately!"
Watching the ghost officer flee, Ethan exhaled deeply.
*The power of capital. With money, ghosts don't just push millstones—they'll pole dance for you.*
*Buzz—*
His phone vibrated. Caller ID: City First Hospital ICU.
The moment he answered, a nurse's tearful voice came through: "Mr. Su! Your mother's having multiple organ failure! Come quickly! She needs immediate surgery!"
"I have money! Three million! Even if we replace her entire organs, save her!"
Ethan rushed from the pawnshop, directly converting ten years lifespan to transfer funds, flagging down a taxi.
*Something's wrong.*
*The prognosis showed 180 days left. Why the sudden deterioration?*
Rushing into the ICU corridor, the attending physician was removing his mask.
Li Yongheng—that's what his badge read. Refined, scholarly, gold-rimmed glasses.
"Dr. Li! The money's transferred! Operate now!" Ethan grabbed his white coat.
Li Yongheng didn't move.
He looked down at Ethan with eyes holding no compassion—only the indifference of observing lab rats.
"Ethan, money can't save her."
He smiled, voice light as a ghost's whisper. "Because she's not sick."
"What did you say?" Ethan shoved him aside, bursting into the room.
On the bed, his mother lay emaciated, tubes covering her body.
**[Death's Eye, activate!]**
Ethan's pupils dilated in shock.
No numbers floated above his mother's head.
Instead, a frantically flashing, complex golden geometric shape—some kind of high-dimensional **"livestock brand"**!
**[Alert: High-dimensional beacon detected!]**
**[Target marked as "mature battery"—lifespan injection impossible!]**
"That's the mark of 'ripeness.'"
Dr. Li's voice drifted eerily. In Ethan's vision, his head no longer showed numbers either—just a rotating golden Möbius strip: **∞**.
*Not human.*
"In this universe, Earth is a ranch. Your mother is a premium battery selected by the Council." Dr. Li adjusted his glasses, pupils becoming swirling nebulae. "She had six months left, but you awakened the system. To prevent variables, the Council decided... early harvest."
*Beep—!*
The monitor shrieked its death song.
The geometric shape above his mother's head collapsed into blood-red countdown:
**[24:00:00]**
One day left.
"Accept fate, mortal." Dr. Li didn't even bother attacking. "This is divine will."
"Fuck your god."
Ethan's eyes blazed red, vampire constitution's savagery exploding.
Just as he prepared to fight desperately—
*CRASH!!!*
The ICU's bulletproof glass shattered!
Through the rain of glass shards, a red figure plummeted like a meteor. Twin blades carved crimson crosses, forcing "Dr. Li" to retreat.
Lyra!
She was covered in blood, clearly having fought through encirclement. Her golden mechanical eye's gears spun frantically.
"Don't listen to his bullshit!"
Lyra blocked Ethan with crossed blades, not looking back. "Want to save your mom? Come with me!"
"Where?" Ethan stared at that lofty "god."
"To kill gods."
Lyra turned her face, mouth curved in maniacal grin. "Slaughter the lord governing this sector—the beacon auto-dissolves. But it's suicide. You dare?"
Ethan glanced at his mother struggling in agony on the bed.
He slowly raised his hand. The system interface exploded across his retinas.
He bet everything—all his newly earned lifespan, everything remaining, everything he had.
His countdown spun wildly, finally freezing on one resolute symbol:
**∞ (Infinite Overdraft Mode)**
"Whether he's god or demon."
Ethan ripped off his tie, eyes more ravenous than any devil's.
"Lead the way. I'm in a hurry."