Chapter 65: The Floor 10 Spectacle.
Notice. Institutional investors have reached the observation deck. High-density magicule signatures identified: Dwarven High-Merchants. Notice. Target 'Masayuki' has successfully signed the 'Guided Luck' addendum. Assessment. Risk of asset failure minimized.
The air in my private observation box is perfectly temperature-controlled, smelling faintly of manifested cedar and high-end magic-ink. I lean back in my armchair, obsidian-silk suit catching the glow of the magical monitors. Beside me, a small, intricate seal is etched into the armrest—the sigil of my private estate, a domain where even the Kijin require an appointment.
"The Dwarven 'Whales' have taken their seats, Lord Shinji," Vesper says, her voice as sharp and clean as a surgical blade. She stands to my left, holding a tray of silver-glass flutes. "They are currently discussing the potential for a hostile takeover of the resurrection technology. Should I initiate the 'Counter-Audit' protocol?"
"Let them talk, Vesper," I respond, my sea-grey eyes fixed on the screen showing Masayuki at the entrance to Floor 10. "A desire for takeover is just another form of market interest. We don't suppress interest; we capitalize on it."
"Lord Shinji," a gruff voice booms from the entrance of the box.
I turn my head slightly. It's Dorf, the Captain of the Dwarven Pegasus Knights, acting as the proxy for King Gazel. Behind him are three merchant lords draped in gold-woven capes. They look at the dungeon monitors with a hunger that would make a Greed Slime look generous.
"Captain Dorf. I trust the accommodations in our VIP sector meet the Dwargon baseline for quality?" I ask, my voice porcelain-cold.
"The accommodations are fine, Satou," Dorf grunts, crossing his massive arms. "But my King is concerned. You're monetizing life and death itself. If this resurrection tech leaks, the cost of war across the Western Nations drops to zero. That's a destabilizing variable."
"War is only destabilizing when it's unpredictable, Captain," I retort. "I am making it a service. A high-premium service. Now, watch. Our 'Hero' is about to clear Floor 10. I suggest your merchants pay close attention to the data-feed."
On the screen, Masayuki enters the Floor 10 Boss Room. Waiting for him is the Storm Serpent, a creature calibrated for maximum visual impact and minimum actual threat to our contracted mascot.
Notice. [Transaction Domain] logic applied to Floor 10. Redirecting Serpent's strike path. Warning. Luck-distortion from [Chosen One] is colliding with [Total Liquidation Logic]. Notice. Neutralizing interference.
Masayuki stands in the center of the arena, his knees visibly locking. The crowd in the public viewing areas—and the Dwarven lords next to me—holds their collective breath. The Storm Serpent lunges, a blur of scales and lightning.
Masayuki, paralyzed by fear, simply closes his eyes and raises his sword in a desperate, uncoordinated block.
[Transaction Domain: Force Redirection]
The serpent's head doesn't hit Masayuki. It hits the "cost" of the space itself. The beast's momentum is violently flipped 180 degrees. It slams into the ceiling, knocking itself unconscious, and falls directly onto a hidden 'Jackpot' trigger I placed beneath the tiles.
Gold coins and rare potions erupt from the floor, raining down on the "Hero."
"HE'S A GOD!" one of the Dwarven merchants screams, leaping to his feet. "He didn't even move! He forced the world to yield!"
Sloppy visuals, but the ROI is peaking, I think, my internal persona mentally ringing a cash register. The Dwarves are sold. They think the 'Hero' is a blue-chip asset, which means they'll pay any price for the resurrection bracelets that 'allow' such risks.
"Impressive," Dorf mutters, his eyes narrowed. "But I see your hand in this, Satou. You're faking the miracles."
"I am optimizing the outcome, Captain," I say, standing up. My [Dragon Spirit Haki] flares for a split second, a cold void that causes the Dwarven merchants to stumble back into their seats. "My current architecture is stable, but not sufficient for my long-term vision of a global trade network. I need these 'miracles' to be the standard, not the exception."
"Shinji."
Rimuru walks into the box, his golden eyes scanning the room. He looks at Dorf, then at me. There's a flicker of concern in his gaze—not for the Hero, but for the "Private Empire" I'm building in the shadows of his nation.
"The Dwarves seem happy," Rimuru says, his voice informal but carrying the weight of a True Demon Lord. "But Rigurd says you've started charging a 'Processing Fee' for any diplomacy that goes through your estate. Is that true?"
"A necessary measure for risk mitigation, Rimuru," I respond, smoothing my suit. "Your public offices are too crowded. My estate offers a... premium tier of sovereignty."
"Just don't forget whose name is on the gate, Shinji," Rimuru says, though his smile remains friendly. He's my safety anchor, but even he can feel the shift. My potential is structurally incomplete, and I intend to fill those gaps with the wealth of kingdoms.
I turn back to the Dwarven merchants. "Gentlemen. Let's discuss the licensing fees for the resurrection tech. I believe we can reach an agreement that maximizes... everyone's survival."
Current Magicule Reserves: Infinite (Linked). Location: Floor 10 Deck. Status: Floor 10 Clear. Dwarven Investment: Guaranteed. Soul Capacity: 38%.
Azathoth, archive the Dwarven merchants' bio-signatures. If they try to reverse-engineer the bracelets, I want their souls flagged for immediate reclamation.
Chapter End.