087 THE LORD OF GREED
They didn't wait long. Soon, a man appeared, walking to the center of the warehouse. He was dressed entirely in white, wearing a tall, pointed hat and a smooth white mask that hid his face.
"It's starting," Green Crab whispered.
One of the gangsters stepped forward, dragging another person with him—blindfolded, and handcuffs on his hands.
He was a pawn.
Either an underling chosen for sacrifice or some poor kidnapped soul.
The Prophet looked down at the trembling pawn, then shoved him to the floor. The gangster knelt beside him, raising his hand - A Ring of Power gleaming on his finger.
The Prophet began to chant with muffled and strange words and hymns then circled them in a slow, rhythmic dance. Suddenly, he touched the ring on the gangster's hand and drew a curved blade from beneath his robe.
In one swift, fluid motion, he slit the pawn's throat- killing him in an instant.
A sharp, strangled cry tore through the hall.
"Arghhh!" The pawn collapsed, his blood splattering across the floor.
Damen froze, as did the SIA investigators watching through his live feed.
They thought they were tracking gang activity. Instead, they'd stumbled into a murder ritual.
The blood shimmered—then began to flow toward the gangster's ring, transforming into glowing essence. The gangster's body tensed, his eyes rolling back as the ring pulsed crimson.
Power flooded into him, fed by the dying man's life.
Damen's stomach twisted. "So that's it… that's how to use the Ring of Power." He was glad he chose to assimilate the ring than go the usual training path.
The truth hit him like a blow. The Ring of Power wasn't just a meta artifact—it was a vessel for blood sacrifice.
The ring absorbed life itself, converting blood into strength. That explained why he'd gained Blood and Armor ratings after assimilating Green Crab's ring.
The blood on it… had become part of him.
Damen's jaw clenched.
"Every face here…are murderers", he thought coldly. Murderers who traded human lives for strength.
Then Damen noticed something strange about the Prophet.
There was a faint shimmer around his hand—an aura that didn't match the others.
He discreetly pulled out his phone and activated the scanning app. The glyph over the Prophet's ring flickered into view, floating for a second before locking onto it.
What appeared on his screen made his blood run cold.
Ring of Greed.
Damen's pulse quickened. So that's it… this cult is connected to the Alliance of Psyche.
He immediately rechecked the Prophet's data profile. He'd scanned dozens of people earlier, barely glancing at their names.
This time, when the system identified the Prophet, his heart sank.
Name: Ivory.
Damen froze. That name—he knew it. The Prophet wasn't a stranger.
He was Kurt, a classmate from high school.
Now reborn as Ivory, an agent of the Alliance of Psyche.
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Suddenly, the windows shattered.
Elite SIA soldiers burst into the warehouse, armed with meta cannons that hummed with compressed energy. They didn't issue warnings—they just opened fire.
"Bang! Bang!"
Blinding bursts of meta energy tore through the air, smashing into the gangster cultists. Screams filled the warehouse as the Prophet staggered under the barrage. His porcelain mask cracked—then split apart.
Beneath it, his face twisted grotesquely.
Skin rippled as black veins bulged across his neck. The man once known as Kurt was gone. What stood before Damen now was something else—something fed by countless blood sacrifices.
He was Ivory.
Ignoring the cannon fire, Ivory dashed straight toward Damen, moving faster than the eye could follow.
"How did you find out about me?" Damen asked, his voice low and steady. He thought he hid himself well among the gangsters.
Ivory smiled, his smile crooked, and unhinged, his eyes glowing like molten gold. His mind was twisted, but his words were sharp, and deliberate.
"I noticed you the moment you walked in with Green Crab," he said.
"Damnit," Damen thought. "He's known us coming here from the start. Why didn't he leave? Why let the ritual finish?"
"Last time I saw you, you could barely string a sentence together," Damen said.
Ivory's grin widened. "I've changed. I'm no longer that mindless. I've evolved into Ivory, the Lord of Greed. The world feeds on greed—so I've learned to harvest it."
Whatever sanity Kurt once had was long gone. What remained was a monster. A monster born from greed and bred through the harvesting of human lives.
The air trembled.
The Ring of Greed on Ivory's finger ignited, flaring like molten metal. Dozens of tendrils burst from the floor—liquid blood essence rising from the sacrificed pawns, twisting like living serpents.
"Damnit—how did he become this strong?" Damen muttered, bracing himself.
Kurt was never this strong before even with the Ring of Greed and the Annunakin Blood curse. His strength shouldn't have reached this horrible height.
Then he remembered his aunt Sienna.
Nothing was impossible if it concerned her. She's transformed Kurt into the Lord of Greed, Ivory.
Damen leapt forward, spinning into a powerful kick. "Momentum Collapse!"
Kinetic waves exploded outward in rapid succession, shattering the blood tendrils before they reached him. Red mist sprayed through the air, sizzling where it touched metal.
Ivory just laughed. "You're still using that trick? It doesn't even scratch me now!"
Suddenly, he vanished.
Damen barely caught the distortion in the air before Ivory reappeared behind him, his fist hardened, a blade of bone struck forth.
The blow hit like a cannon.
Damen crashed into a concrete pillar, the impact cracking the wall. Dust and chunks of cement fell around him.
He coughed, wiped blood from his mouth, and smirked. "Still hitting like a girl."
Ivory roared. The warehouse lights flickered, bursting one by one as waves of crimson aura spiraled around him.
It was Blood Resonance—a meta skill creating a domain that devoured everything in its path. The air warped; the floor began to melt under its pull.
Nearby, the SIA soldiers were thrown off balance. Their armor clattered as their bodies were dragged toward Ivory, unable to resist the suction.
Ivory thrust his palm forward. "Feed me your meta essence!"
A vortex erupted—massive and blood-red, consuming all in its reach. It pulled in soldiers, gangsters, and rubble alike.
Damen dug his boots into the ground, but the pull was immense.
Ivory floated in the center of the storm, his blood essence surging. The ground beneath him cracked as he rose higher, extending one hand toward Damen's throat.