Floor 1 of the Babel Tower was a sprawling, ruined cyberpunk subway system crawling with low-level Yokai.
Yuto stood over the dissolving corpse of a Cyber-Macaque, his rusty iron pipe dripping with black, synthetic blood. From the creature's chest, a tiny, glowing white cube floated upward.
[Loot Dropped: 1x Common Code Fragment (+1 Kinetic Stat)] [Action Required: Consume or Discard?]
Normal hunters would crush the cube instantly. A +1 Kinetic boost meant hitting slightly harder.
"Vault it," Yuto muttered.
[Fragment Vaulted. Current Stack: 1.] [Tension Multiplier Initiated.]
The moment the system confirmed the action, a dull ache bloomed in the back of Yuto's skull. The Babel-Stigma on his hand pulsed with a faint red light. It wasn't physical pain—it was an itch. A deep, psychological craving begging him to open his status window and click the glowing 'Claim' button.
Just one click, his brain whispered. Just take the stat point.
He gritted his teeth, forcing his hand away from the holographic interface. The System was actively trying to break his willpower. It was goonbait in its purest form.
"Hey! Kurosawa!" a voice hissed from the shadows.
Kenji, a scrawny Ash-Tribe scavenger with a sparking, makeshift mechanical left arm, scurried out from behind a rusted train car. "You're crazy, man. The Ouroboros Guild just doubled the tax quota on Floor 1. If Ryuzen's men catch you hoarding drops without paying the 90% cut, they'll gut you."
"They can't tax what I haven't consumed," Yuto said calmly, wiping his pipe on his jacket.
"What does that even mean?" Kenji groaned. "Did you even get a stat point from that Macaque? You still look as weak as a wet noodle."
Over the next six hours, Yuto hunted like a madman. He slaughtered twelve more Macaques and three Neon-Goblins, using nothing but his baseline human stats and sheer, reckless grit. Every single drop went straight into the Vault.
[Current Stack: 15 Common Fragments.] [Tension Status: Building...]
By nightfall, his right arm felt like it was wrapped in a blood-pressure cuff pumped to the maximum. The red glow of his Stigma was clearly visible in the dark. If he popped the stack now, the compound interest would already push those 15 Common Fragments into a solid Rare-tier upgrade.
Not yet, Yuto thought, his eyes burning with manic greed. I'm not claiming anything until I hit fifty.