Chapter 50: The High-Stakes Audit
"Welcome," a voice booms, cold and ancient as the stars. "To Walpurgis."
We stand in a circular hall of obsidian and gold, a space that exists outside the standard geography of the Jura Forest. The air here is a thick, pressurized soup of primordial magicules. To a normal human, breathing this atmosphere would be like inhaling molten lead; to me, utilizing [Market Transparency], it's a high-resolution data feed of the world's most powerful assets.
Rimuru takes his seat, his golden eyes scanning the semi-circle of thrones. I stand at his right hand, a silver-haired silhouette in a suit of obsidian silk. My [Dragon Spirit Haki] is coiled tight within the spirit vessel, acting as a passive deterrent that keeps the lesser attendants' eyes from lingering too long.
Across the hall, I see him. Clayman.
He looks exactly like his balance sheet suggests: over-leveraged and desperate. He's dressed in his flamboyant white suit, sitting with a smugness that screams "fraudulent valuation." Beside him sits a vacant-eyed Milim Nava. My [Analytical Appraisal] flickers as I look at her.
Notice. Target: Milim Nava. Status: 'Frenzied' state detected. However, magicule flow suggests a deliberate structural suppression. High probability of market manipulation.
She's faking it, Azathoth. She's waiting for the right moment to trigger a hostile takeover. Clayman thinks he's holding her leash, but he's actually just holding a live grenade.
"Lord Clayman," I say, my voice smooth, porcelain-cold, and perfectly audible in the silent hall. "I've reviewed your opening statement regarding the Jura Forest. I find your accusations of 'unauthorized expansion' to be factually insolvent."
Clayman's smile twitches. He wasn't expecting the "Slime's associate" to speak with the authority of a conglomerate heir. "And who are you supposed to be? A puppet dressed in stolen silk?"
"I am Shinji Satou Tempest," I respond, the weight of the [Dragon Spirit Haki] flaring for a micro-second, causing the wine in Clayman's glass to ripple. "I handle the risk management for this nation. And currently, you are our largest liability."
"Enough talk!" Clayman slams his hand on his throne. "Guy! These upstarts have murdered my subjects and subverted the order of the Forest! I demand their liquidation!"
Guy Crimson, the red-haired Primordial sitting at the highest throne, leans his head on his hand. His gaze is a physical weight, moving from Rimuru to me. He isn't looking at our strength; he's looking at our 'Quality of Life'—the sheer audacity of our existence.
"Clayman says you're a problem," Guy says, his voice a bored, lethal melody. "In this room, problems are solved with strength. If you want a seat at this table, you have to prove you aren't just a bad investment."
"Fine by me," Rimuru says, standing up.
Suddenly, Clayman lunges, but not at Rimuru. He gestures toward his 'Prize', the dragon-masked Milim. "Milim! Kill them! Kill them all!"
Milim blurs. The air in the hall screams as she moves. But I'm already moving. [Spatial Transfer Gate Creation] isn't just for travel; it's for tactical positioning.
[Shadow Step]
I appear in the path of her strike, not to block her—only a fool tries to block a falling moon—but to redirect the kinetic capital.
[Obsidian Aegis] + [Multilayer Barrier]
The impact sounds like a mountain shattering. My feet crack the obsidian floor, but the spirit vessel holds. Milim's fist is inches from my face, her pink eyes meeting my sea-grey ones.
"The cost of this physical contact is far higher than you can afford, Milim," I whisper, my [Mana Jamming] interfering with the localized magicule control Clayman thinks he has over her.
"Kufufu," Diablo's voice echoes from the shadows behind Rimuru. "It seems the board meeting has devolved into a physical audit. Master, shall I begin the collection of Clayman's soul?"
"Not yet, Diablo," Rimuru says, his golden aura erupting into a pillar of light. "Clayman is mine. Shinji, keep the spectators back."
"Understood," I say, manifesting a [Hell Flare] in my left hand and a concentrated [Megiddo] droplet in my right. "Anyone attempting to interfere with this transaction will be liquidated immediately."
Current Magicule Reserves: Infinite (Linked). Location: Walpurgis Hall. Status: Combat Phase: Initiated. Target: Clayman's Forces. Soul Capacity: 38%.
Azathoth, prepare the [Soul Eater] protocol. If Clayman tries to run, I want his spirit processed and converted into energy before he hits the door.
Chapter End.