The portal spat them out into silver grass that went on forever under a sky with no sun, just this flat, even glow that made everything look expensive and fake at the same time.
Lucien took a breath and the mana hit his lungs like the first drag of something way too pure after years of city smog. It didn't burn. It just filled him up, clean and cold, the kind of clean that makes your teeth ache a little because your body forgot what real air tasted like.
Nyx dropped to the ground laughing, rolling through the grass like a kid who'd never seen a playground before. Her tail whipped around, kicking up tiny silver blades that floated for a second then settled back down.
[Here you can train until the outside world turns to dust,] she said, still half-buried in the grass, ears twitching. [One day out there is almost three years in here. Plenty of time to get fat on power before anyone notices you're gone.]
Lucien stood there a moment, boots sinking slightly into the soft ground.
The air smelled like nothing and everything at once—cold metal, fresh rain on hot pavement, that faint ozone buzz after a lightning strike. No village stink. No damp straw. Just pure, endless mana pressing against his skin like it wanted in.
He flexed his fingers and felt the Greed Bloodline stir, hungry for whatever came next.
He bent down, picked up a random pebble the size of a one-real coin, and held it in his palm. Nothing special about it. Just gray stone, cool to the touch.
[Let's see if this infinite evolution thing actually works or if the system is selling dreams.]
The Primordial Evolution kicked in without him asking twice. The pebble started changing right there in his hand—edges smoothing, color shifting from dull gray to something translucent, veins of blue light spreading through it like cracks in ice. In seconds it was a small mana crystal, glowing soft and steady, warm now against his skin.
Then the Greed Bloodline did its thing. The crystal shivered, split, and multiplied. One became ten. Ten became a hundred. All of them perfect, pulsing with the same clean power that filled the air.
Lucien stared at the pile growing in his hands until it spilled over onto the silver grass.
He threw his head back and laughed, loud and ugly, the sound bouncing weirdly across the empty plain because there was nothing else to absorb it. [This shit right here? Not a cheat. This is straight-up authorized robbery. I'm taxing reality and it's thanking me for the privilege.]
Nyx sat up, grass stuck in her silver-pink hair, grinning with those tiny fangs showing. She crawled closer on her knees, tail swishing behind her, and poked one of the crystals with a claw. [See? Already multiplying. Most people spend lifetimes chasing a single drop of this. You just looked at a rock and told it to become dinner.]
Lucien pocketed a handful, feeling the weight settle in his tunic like loose change he didn't plan on spending anytime soon. The rest he left scattered on the grass. They'd probably still be there whenever he came back—time didn't seem to care much inside this place.
His mind wandered for a second to that truck in São Paulo, the way the phone had skittered into the gutter right before everything went black. [Wonder if the delivery guy ever found that book.] Stupid thought. Didn't matter now.
Nyx tugged on his sleeve, pulling him down to sit facing her in the grass. [Come on. Basic dual cultivation. Not the fun kind yet—just energy flow. Hands together. Let me show you how it moves when someone else is feeding it back.]
They sat cross-legged, knees almost touching. Her palms were warm, a little rough at the edges from whatever primordial fox life she'd lived before getting sealed.
Lucien closed his eyes and felt it immediately—the trickle of her power sliding into him through their joined hands, cool at first then warming up as it mixed with whatever the Greed Bloodline was already cooking. It looped back out of him stronger, multiplied, then came back to her even bigger. Like passing a joint that kept getting fatter every round.
[You're just handing me power for free, little fox?] he asked, one eye cracking open to watch her face. Her ears were perked forward, focused.
Nyx blinked slow, golden eyes half-lidded. [Nothing's free, greedy boy. I give, you take more, I get stronger from the overflow. That's the deal. I want to watch you swallow this whole world and still be hungry after.]
She squeezed his hands tighter, and the flow jumped again, a rush that made his scalp tingle and his new muscles feel tighter under the skin. [Besides, the bond likes it when we share like this. Makes the connection louder.]
They stayed like that for what felt like hours inside the pocket space. Lucien lost track on purpose.
Every cycle the energy came back thicker, his body drinking it in and the Greed Bloodline turning the leftovers into more crystals that popped up around them like weeds. Nyx's tail kept brushing his leg, soft and distracting in a way that made him wonder how long "not the fun kind yet" was going to last.
When they finally stood up, his legs didn't even feel stiff.
Three years, the system quietly noted somewhere in the back of his head. Three full years of grinding energy loops and crystal farming while only a couple hours had ticked by outside.
His arms looked sharper, shoulders wider, the kind of definition that came from actual use instead of gym mirrors and protein powder scams. Eyes felt brighter too—when he caught his reflection in one of the bigger mana crystals, the purple and pink in them seemed to move on their own, like tiny stars stuck in there.
The portal opened easy when he thought about the shack. They stepped through and the silver plain vanished behind them, replaced by the familiar damp wood smell and sagging roof.
The cabana looked smaller now, pathetic almost, like a cardboard box someone left out in the rain. The straw mattress was still there, messed up from earlier. Lucien rolled his shoulders once and heard a satisfying pop.
[Feels different already,] he muttered, pushing the rickety door open with two fingers. It creaked louder than before, or maybe his hearing had just leveled up.
Outside, Eldoria stretched out in its sad little way—dirt paths, thatched roofs that needed patching yesterday, a few chickens scratching around like they owed rent too.
People glanced at him as he walked. The "weak orphan" who'd been lying half-dead in that shack was suddenly moving like he owned the ground under his feet. A couple of older guys near a well stopped mid-conversation, eyes narrowing. One scratched the back of his neck, the way people do when they're trying to figure out if they should be worried.
An old lady shuffling by with a basket paused. Her face was lined deep, hands knobby from years of whatever passed for farm work around here.
She held out a chunk of bread that looked harder than the rocks he'd just turned into crystals. [Here, boy. You look… different today. Eat before the collectors come sniffing again.]
Lucien took the bread because why not. It smelled like old yeast and woodsmoke, the crust tough enough to break a tooth. [Thanks, grandma. Collectors been giving you trouble too?]
She shrugged, eyes flicking toward the center of the village. [Always do. Baron's boy especially. Thinks the whole place is his pocket change.]
She hobbled off without waiting for more talk, muttering something about young people growing too fast these days.
He kept walking, Nyx trailing just behind him in her human form, ears hidden under a loose hood she'd pulled from somewhere.
The village square wasn't much—just a patch of packed dirt with a dried-up fountain in the middle that probably hadn't seen water since last season. A few stalls sold sad-looking vegetables and dull knives. People gave them space without meaning to.
Then the voice cut through the low murmur of the square.
[You! The orphan who was supposed to be dead by now.]
Lucien turned slow.
Nineteen-year-old kid standing there in embroidered clothes that screamed "my daddy has money." Fancy tunic, boots too clean for village mud, finger pointed straight at Lucien's chest like it was a loaded gun. The boy's face was flushed, jaw tight, the kind of expression that said he practiced this speech in front of a mirror.
[My father wants the overdue tax. Now. Hand it over or I'll make sure the guards drag you through the streets so everyone sees what happens to lazy trash who thinks they can hide in a shack.]
Nyx's tail flicked once under the hood. Lucien felt the Greed Bloodline wake up again, warm and interested, already calculating how much this little prick was worth in points.
He bit into the old bread, chewing slow while the square went quieter around them.