Two weeks later,
Under Lawson's divine authority and the hard work of his companions, the "Town Reformation Plan" moved at a mythological pace.
The old Nova Star was erased in golden light and reborn as something else: The Armored Fortress: Nova Star.
The fortress was a perfect circle, with metallic walls rising dozens of meters high, covered in interlocking armor plates.
It featured multi-layered defenses, automated elemental turrets, and energy shield generators.
At the entrance, a shimmering blue energy curtain replaced the old gates—a spatial portal designed by Ester that sensed Shadow Shifters and teleported them into an "Execution Ground" to be ganked by the warriors.
At the center, a dark alloy tower pierced the clouds—the new Base.
A giant crystal at the summit radiated a soft golden glow, powering the entire city.
Between the walls and the tower lay self-sustaining ecological domes with gardens, farms, and high-tech residential pods. It was a masterpiece of future tech and Lawson's authority.
However, at the top of the central tower, the atmosphere was anything but divine.
"—ARE YOU STUPID!?"
The mocking roar nearly blew the roof off. George stood in the biting wind pointing a trembling finger at Lawson's nose.
"What do you mean it doesn't work?! You have System Authority, but you can't even pull out a single SS-Rank Custom Armor Box Set? What about the rare materials? Hey! Did I wake up just to be a hobo?!"
George was in full "Toxic Mode," ruthlessly blasting Lawson.
"Your authority is defective! You're a pro at construction, but when it comes to the 'gacha'—the important part—you're a total failure! You're like a wholesale, discount manager!"
Lawson mumbled, looking like a scolded bride.
"I... I don't know the limits of this power yet. I can't manifest materials out of thin air.
George's face turned grim.
"If you can't spawn 'materials,' then what about the Mission System? Issuing mission should be in your job description! If that lifeline is cut, how are we supposed to get money? How do we get materials to craft armor?!"
Lawson stared at his toes, his voice as faint as a mosquito.
"Items won't spawn... so when you finish a quest, the notification sound on your phone... I'll probably just have to put it on 'Mute'..."
"..."
George's knuckles cracked.
He suddenly spun around and tried to throw himself over the balcony railing, muttering in despair: "Am I... am I going to have to wear this trashy B-Rank Armor all the way to the final boss?!"
The "Poverty Critical Hit" had shattered George's sanity. He had missed the massive rewards of the Liberation Mission while in a coma, and now Lawson had delivered the finishing blow.
Gone was the cool, aloof god of magic; here was a man trying to commit "suicide-by-jumping" over a lack of funds.
"Phyllis, let go! Don't stop me! Let me find peace!"
"No! Brother! We just reunited! You can't leave me just because we're broke!" Phyllis screamed, clinging to his waist.
Ester appeared through a portal, looking at them with total disdain.
"I think George has been in a coma so long his neurons reconnected the wrong way."
Lawson snapped his fingers.
"Oh! Right! That 'System' said he was giving us 'Free Will'..."
His tone became subtle. "In other words, this world has shifted from a 'hand-holding' linear RPG to... a hardcore Open World game with zero guidance, where you wander the map and get eaten by mobs until the screen says [YOU HAVE FALLEN]?"
Just as the chaos reached its peak, Katie's voice came from the doorway—steady, solemn, and filled with an undeniable pressure.
"The trivialities can wait. Right now, there is a matter of grave importance that will decide our future..."
Lawson turned around and froze. His jaw dropped far enough to fit a grenade.
"Ka... Katie? What's with the outfit? Did you just get back from robbing Wall Street?!"
The Katie who stood before them had shed her image of a refined survivor.
She now looked like a financial titan standing at the apex of power: a heavy leather overcoat draped over a tailored designer shirt, a knee-length skirt edged with wild tiger-print fur, and a chunky sapphire gold necklace that shimmered with a dizzying blue light.
Her sharp, non-prescription glasses glinted as she raised a hand, revealing multiple diamond rings that nearly blinded the room.
Her blue wavy hair was swept up in an elegant bun.
Every gesture exuded regal grace and... the overwhelming aura of a stingy capitalist! Katie adjusted her glasses, her gaze sharp enough to pierce Lawson's bank account.
"The Nova Star New Financial System Manifesto is complete!"
Behind her, the hem of her coat billowed as if caught in a majestic gale—though upon closer inspection, it was just Luther and Dodge crouching in the shadows, sweating profusely as they fanned her with boards to create the special effect.
"Go forth and become a great capitalist, Senior Lawson!!!"
"I REFUSE! This isn't how the script is supposed to go!" Lawson cried out in a soul-wrenching protest.
His dream was a warm sanctuary, a harbor for the weary—not turning the survivors into batteries for a production line!
But Katie wasn't interested in a rebuttal. In a flash, she seized Lawson by the collar.
He was dragged across the floor so fast that sparks literally flew from the friction.
Amidst a series of "Nooooo!" screams, he was hauled into the newly remodeled Base Hall.
The Base Hall had transformed. Gone was the minimalist design, replaced by an atmosphere so grand it would make top tech companies feel like shacks.
Giant wraparound projection screens covered the walls, their cool light reflecting off the mirror-like floors.
Katie tossed Lawson aside like a bag of expired trash. With a silent slide of precision floor tiles, rows of sophisticated spectator seats rose from the ground. With a flick of her finger, the Manifesto turned into a digital waterfall of data cascading across the screens.
As everyone took their seats—they even pulling out a bag of popcorn—the "People's Representative," Rickman, stomped in.
"Damn, Katie girl, you really went all out! Are we announcing the reboot of the planet today?"
Katie adjusted her glasses, a cold glint reflecting off the lenses.
"This is a turning point that concerns the livelihood of every resident... a moment that will be etched into history."
She took a breath and unleashed her long-brewed ambition:
"The currency and economic systems of the old world are nothing but waste paper! The ruins of civilization cannot support our future! Therefore, today, our Great Creator—Lord Lawson—will personally announce a new economic system that will change our fates!"
"It's not me! I don't want this blame—Mmph!!"
Lawson's survival instinct kicked in, but his mouth was instantly clamped shut by a massive hand.
"Bro, listen. This is for everyone's good. Really." Dodge's tree-trunk-sized arm bulged with veins as he maintained a "friendly" smile, using enough force to crush rebar to keep Lawson pinned to the "altar."
At that moment, familiar footsteps echoed at the door. Their old comrades—Valerie, Victor, and Emma—had arrived!
"Valerie! Victor! Emma!" Phyllis cried out in delight.
"Are you coming back to the front lines?"
Emma stepped forward, winking as she took Phyllis's hand.
"Little Phyllis, I'm not here as a warrior today. I'm the 'Chief Merchant' of this fortress. From today on, I am the official face of the Nova Star Assignment Center!"
Victor and Valerie, fingers locked together, leaned in with sweet smiles.
"We've taken over a shop in the South Sector. It's called Vale-Vic Restaurant. Come by whenever you're hungry; the first rounds on the house for family!"
"One opened an agency, and two opened a restaurant?" Phyllis's head spun. "What is going on?"
The three answered in unison, as if rehearsed: "Master Katie came to our door and cordially invited us to join this great reform! You'll see it in the plan."
[NOVA STAR NEW FINANCIAL SYSTEM VER 1.01]
Katie swept her hand across the air, and the giant screen displayed the blueprint of their future:
Core Currency: [NEO LINKED POINT] (NLP)
The Anchor: Every NLP is directly pegged to a unit of stable energy produced by "Creator Lawson." Its value is backed by divine power—as solid as a mountain.
Form: A virtual point system in mobile terminals. Transactions trigger a "Holy Golden Light" from the phone, symbolizing system authorization.
Acquisition: [CONTRIBUTION IS WEALTH]
Resource Recycling: Toss scrap metal or Shadow Shifters remains into the "Reforging Furnace" in South Sector 2 for real-time NLP settlement.
Fortress Labor: Maintenance, farming, and research are all paid at hourly rates set by the Management Committee Lead by Rickman.
Field Hunting: A privilege for warriors. High-risk missions yield high-reward bonuses.
The Heart: [SOUTH SECTOR 2 TRADE CENTER]
Commerce: The "Black Hole of Desire." Spend NLP on high-tech weapons, high-energy rations, or hiring mercenary teams.
Social Climbing: Work hard enough and you can move from the civilian pods to the "High-Tier Ecological Zone" with holographic windows and simulated forest air.
Macro-Economic Regulation: [The System's Directive]
Zero-Inflation Protocol: Currency volume is hard-capped by the energy ceiling of the Creator Lawson. Inflation is impossible; your wealth stays absolute.
Taxation Logic: Every exchange incurs a microscopic "Energy Dissipation" fee, recycled to sustain the Armored Fortress's core functions.
As the presentation ended, a roar of discussion erupted. But Lawson was staring at the "NLP" icon with tears in his eyes.
He wasn't just a laborer anymore; he was a human power generator and a living printing press.
"Well, Lord Lawson?" Katie turned to him.
"Care to give a speech for our Capitalist Golden Age?"
Dodge finally released his grip. Lawson bounced up like a spring.
"BULLSH*T! This is robbery! This is extortion!" he shrieked, pointing at the line about energy production. "My authority is for survival, not for minting gold coins for you people!"
Katie didn't flinch. "Don't play poor, my lord... I know you saved up quite a lot of LP during your ten years of gaming, didn't you?