Chapter 73: The Gilded Vault

Stepping through the ruined, rusted brass doors of the First Continental Reserve was a jarring collision of Old World opulence and feral, biological corruption.

The cavernous main lobby had once been a monument to infinite wealth. Towering pillars of polished white marble stretched fifty feet up to a vaulted, frescoed ceiling. Massive, shattered crystal chandeliers hung precariously by thick, frayed steel cables. But the apocalypse had completely reclaimed the architecture. Thick, bioluminescent green moss carpeted the pristine marble floors, feeding off the decaying paper currency that had blown out of the shattered teller cages.

Ren walked directly into the center of the sprawling lobby.

The heavy, matte-black ballistic canvas of his military trench coat absorbed the sickly green ambient light. The jagged, iridescent obsidian plates of his Chitin Shell shifted subtly beneath the thick fabric. His heavy combat boots crushed the rotting stacks of Old World hundred-dollar bills into the glowing moss, rendering the currency entirely irrelevant beneath the weight of his Level 32 mass.

Chloe stepped through the rusted doors behind him, her FN P90 submachine gun raised tightly to her shoulder.

She stared at the ruined teller cages and the massive, overturned mahogany desks. “There’s no ambient mana up here,” she whispered, her voice echoing faintly against the marble. “The lobby is completely dead.”

“The Old World elite did not leave their wealth on the ground floor,” Ren stated, his deep, resonant voice cutting effortlessly through the stagnant, humid air. His completely solid violet eyes scanned the massive, marble staircase leading downward at the rear of the lobby. “They buried it. The localized anomalies simply followed the energy density into the basement.”

He didn’t hesitate. He marched toward the descending staircase, his towering, two-hundred-and-seventy-pound frame casting a long, terrifying shadow across the glowing moss.

The descent into the subterranean levels of the bank was a plunge into absolute, suffocating darkness.

As they moved away from the bioluminescent flora of the surface, the air grew incredibly cold and dense. Chloe pulled her night-vision goggles down, the grainy green hue illuminating the pristine, reinforced concrete corridors of the subterranean vault level.

At the end of the primary hallway stood the absolute pinnacle of Old World physical security.

It was a massive, circular vault door forged from a localized, hyper-dense titanium alloy. It was three feet thick, easily weighing over forty tons, and locked flawlessly into the reinforced concrete frame with massive, interlocking steel deadbolts.

It was designed to withstand a direct, localized nuclear blast.

Ren stepped up to the massive titanium door. He didn’t look for a keypad. He didn’t search the dead security desks for a biometric override. He simply placed his bare, pitch-black tungsten hands flat against the cold, unyielding metal.

Before he could channel his Level 32 Strength, the heavy, dark shadows pooled against the ceiling directly above the vault door violently shifted.

The System overlay flashed a stark, blindingly red warning across Ren’s retinas.

[Avarice-Weaver (Lvl 35)]

[Status: Ambush / Territorial]

The creature guarding the vault was not a plant. It was a horrific, hyper-mutated trapdoor predator that had perfectly assimilated into the architectural geometry of the bank. It resembled a massive, flattened centipede, easily twenty feet long, its thick, segmented carapace possessing the exact same dull, metallic sheen as the titanium vault door.

It had been clinging perfectly flat against the concrete ceiling, its localized biological camouflage rendering it entirely invisible to standard thermal optics.

Upon seeing Ren standing below with no expression, the Avarice-Weaver was suddenly worried whether this dark, dense anomaly would be able to meet its digestive expectations. The ambush required the prey to be completely unaware in the spur of the moment and had a high degree of difficulty. Within a second, the prey had to be crushed under the beast’s massive weight; this was a real test of a survivor’s spatial awareness.

Unfortunately for the Weaver, Ren’s Perception stat had already mapped its localized heartbeat the moment he entered the hallway.

The twenty-foot centipede detached from the ceiling, dropping its massive, three-ton armored bulk directly toward Ren’s exposed neck, its thousands of razor-sharp, metallic legs extending to shred his trench coat.

Ren didn’t even look up. He simply didn’t care.

[Passive Activated: Aura of the Apex]

Ren dropped the internal suppression holding back his Level 32 presence. He let the massive, suffocating, absolute zero-point energy of his completely saturated vascular system violently detonate in the confined concrete hallway.

The atmospheric pressure instantly spiked to catastrophic, crushing levels.

The Avarice-Weaver slammed into the invisible, localized dome of Ren’s aura in mid-air. The beast didn’t hit his Iron Skin; it hit the sheer, insurmountable biological disparity of an Abyssal Tyrant. The sudden, overwhelming neurological suppression instantly paralyzed the Level 35 anomaly’s central nervous system.

The massive, three-ton centipede hit the concrete floor directly behind Ren with a deafening, heavy thud, its thousands of metallic legs completely locked, its segmented body twitching in absolute, paralyzed terror.

Chloe, standing exactly thirty feet back, gasped violently as the aura washed over her, dropping heavily to one knee as the oxygen was physically forced from her lungs.

Ren turned slowly, looking down at the paralyzed, three-ton predator lying helplessly on the concrete.

“Your camouflage parameters were highly efficient,” Ren stated, his deep voice entirely analytical, completely unbothered by the beast’s lethal intentions. “But your biological mass is entirely insufficient to breach my immediate perimeter.”

The Weaver was speechless…where did the wasteland find this terrifying entity? This level of passive suppression was comparable to that of an international super-calamity!

Ren didn’t waste time drawing the Crimson vibro-sword.

He raised his heavy right combat boot, entirely clad in dense, dark rubber and reinforced steel, and brought it down in a brutal, localized stomp directly onto the center of the beast’s titanium-sheened carapace.

CRUNCH.

The localized kinetic torque of his Level 32 Strength was absolute. The thick, metallic armor of the Weaver violently shattered, instantly caving in the beast’s central thorax. Thick, viscous, gold-colored hemolymph erupted across the pristine concrete floor.

[Target Dead: Avarice-Weaver (Lvl 35)]

[Experience Gained: 65,000]

Ren reached into the crushed, metallic ruin of the beast’s thorax. He extracted a jagged, glowing gold core, pulsing with heavy, dense mana. He crushed it between his heavy molars.

[Gluttony Activated.]

[Consumed: Avarice-Weaver Core (Lvl 35)]

[Strength +4]

[Vitality +3]

He swallowed the shattered crystal, the raw energy effortlessly absorbed into his massive, deep biological ocean. He turned his broad, heavily armored back on the pulverized carcass and faced the forty-ton titanium vault door once again.

He placed his dark, tungsten-sheened hands against the dead center of the massive metal slab.

He didn’t use the Rending Claws. He needed pure, blunt-force kinetic trauma.

The thick, glowing cobalt veins on his neck and forearms flared into a blinding, furious blue light, illuminating the dark hallway. He anchored his heavy combat boots against the concrete floor, dropping his center of gravity flawlessly.

He channeled the absolute maximum output of his Level 32 Strength directly into his palms, and pushed.

The forty-ton titanium door groaned.

It was a deep, structural shriek of absolute, molecular agony. The massive, interlocking steel deadbolts buried deep inside the reinforced concrete frame began to aggressively warp and bend.

Ren dug his boots deeper, the thick rubber soles beginning to smoke from the immense friction, and pushed harder.

CRACK.

The deafening sound of massive steel bolts violently snapping echoed like artillery fire down the subterranean corridor. The forty-ton, three-foot-thick titanium door completely buckled under the localized biological pressure. Ren physically shoved the massive metal slab inward, tearing it entirely off its reinforced hinges and sending it crashing heavily onto the floor of the inner vault.

A massive, suffocating wave of pure, concentrated, high-tier mana instantly rolled out of the dark room, washing over Ren’s towering frame.

It wasn’t the chaotic, wild energy of the wasteland. It was the dense, refined, heavily hoarded energy of the Old World elite.

“The structural impediment is bypassed,” Ren stated, his violet eyes completely solid and unblinking as he stared into the dark abyss of the bank’s heart.

Ren steps heavily over the ruined, forty-ton slab of Old World titanium, his trench coat billowing in the rush of stagnant, heavy air, driving his massive, Level 32 frame directly into the subterranean vault to consume whatever the billionaires of the previous era had desperately tried to lock away

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep