[LOCATION: CENTRAL WAREHOUSE — SECTOR 9]

[TIME: 02:15 AM]

Boss Ma was bleeding.

He crawled backward over a pile of shattered crates, clutching a Spirit-Lock Rifle that was empty.

His warehouse—his pride, his empire of crates and contraband—was burning. Not with fire, but with Blood-Qi.

The Iron-Blood Gang wasn’t raiding him. They were erasing him.

“Kui!” Ma screamed, coughing up black smoke. “We had a deal! I paid my dues last week! 20 percent!”

A massive figure stepped through the smoke.

Lieutenant Fang. The second-in-command of the Iron-Blood Mercenaries. He wore heavy scrap-armor and wielded a jagged cleaver dripping with red energy.

“Warlord Kui sends his regards,” Fang grunted. He kicked a crate of potions aside, shattering them. “But the Alchemist Consortium pays better. They want Sector 9 to burn. You’re just… kindling.”

Fang raised the cleaver.

Ma’s employees—twelve tough ghosts with batons—were already piles of dissipating mist. Dead. Gone.

Ma scrambled back, hitting the wall. “I’ll pay double! Triple!”

“Money isn’t the currency today, fat man,” Fang said. “Fear is.”

He swung the cleaver. It smashed into Ma’s shoulder, cracking his spectral form. Ma shrieked.

“Please!” Ma sobbed. “Anyone! Help!”

[LOCATION: NETHER-CORE TOWER — OBSERVATION DECK]

[TIME: 02:17 AM]

Two blocks away, Ren Wu watched through a pair of high-powered binoculars.

Han stood next to him, gripping the railing. “Sir! They’re killing him! We have to send the Golems!”

Ren lowered the binoculars. He checked his pocket watch.

“Not yet.”

“But he’s going to die!”

“Currently,” Ren said, voice calm, “Boss Ma values his warehouse at 500,000 Spirit Silver. That is market price. If I save him now, he remains the owner. He remains ungrateful. He learns nothing.”

Ren took a sip of tea.

“We wait for the market correction.”

Han looked at Ren with horror. Then he looked back at the warehouse.

The roof collapsed. Screams echoed across the street.

“Sir, he’s lost an arm! His soul density is dropping below 10%!”

Ren didn’t look away.

“His value is crashing. 500,000… 100,000… 10,000…”

Down in the warehouse, Lieutenant Fang raised his cleaver for the killing blow. Ma was on his knees, weeping, broken, holding up his remaining hand in a futile plea.

“Zero.”

Ren snapped the binoculars shut.

“The asset is now distressed. Han, bring the contract. Lingshan, you’re up.”

[LOCATION: CENTRAL WAREHOUSE]

Lieutenant Fang grinned. He loved the sound of a soul breaking.

“Goodbye, Boss Ma.”

The cleaver came down.

CLANG.

It didn’t hit Ma.

It hit steel.

A single longsword, thin as a willow branch, stopped the heavy cleaver dead in the air.

Fang blinked. He looked up.

Standing between him and the fat man was a woman in a black business suit. She held the sword with one hand. Her eyes were empty voids.

Lingshan.

“Iron-Blood business,” Fang growled, pushing against the blade. He was a Tier-D brute. He had strength. “Walk away, girl, or I’ll add you to the pile.”

Lingshan didn’t speak. She didn’t even breathe.

She flicked her wrist.

Flash.

Fang stumbled back. His cleaver fell to the ground.

Then his hand fell to the ground.

He stared at his stump. “My… hand?”

The pain hit a second later. “ARGH!”

Before his men could react, the front doors of the warehouse were ripped off their hinges.

THOOM. THOOM.

Two Spirit-Iron Golems squeezed through the frame. They didn’t rush. They marched.

Sync-steps. Like a firing squad.

“Kill them!” Fang screamed, clutching his wrist. “Kill the statues!”

The bandits opened fire. Salt rounds. Blood-hexes.

The Golems didn’t care. They walked through the fire like it was rain.

They grabbed the nearest bandits and—efficiently, brutally—threw them through the brick walls.

In the center of the chaos, a man in a pristine charcoal suit walked in.

He stepped over the debris. He didn’t look at the fight. He looked at Boss Ma.

Ma looked up, vision blurry. “Ren… Mr. Ren… you came…”

“I didn’t come to save you, Ma,” Ren said.

He pulled a document from his jacket.

“I came to make a purchase.”

Ren crouched down so he was eye-level with the dying boss.

“Your warehouse is gone. Your staff is liquidated. Your life is measured in seconds. The Iron-Blood Gang will finish you the moment I leave.”

“Help me…” Ma wheezed. “I’ll sign the protection deal! 10%!”

“No,” Ren said. “That offer expired yesterday.”

Ren placed the document on the bloodstained floor.

[TRANSFER OF DEED: CENTRAL WAREHOUSE]

[BUYER: REN WU]

[PRICE: 1 SPIRIT SILVER]

“I am buying the property. 100% ownership. Including the land, the inventory, and the liabilities.”

Ma stared at the paper. “One… coin? It’s worth half a million!”

“It was worth half a million,” Ren corrected. “Now it’s a burning pile of rubble occupied by a kill squad. I’m buying your debt, Ma. And in exchange, I ensure you survive the night.”

A bandit lunged at Ren from behind. “Die, corporate scum!”

Lingshan didn’t look. She reversed her sword and stabbed backward. The bandit dissolved into mist instantly.

Ren didn’t flinch. He held out a pen.

“Sign. Or die. The market waits for no one.”

Ma looked at the Golems tearing his attackers apart. He looked at Fang, who was bleeding out in the corner. He looked at Ren’s cold, indifferent eyes.

He realized the truth. Ren wasn’t a savior. He was a shark.

Sobbing, Ma grabbed the pen.

He signed.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[ASSET ACQUIRED: CENTRAL WAREHOUSE]

[COST: 1 SILVER]

Ren stood up. He pocketed the contract.

He flicked a single silver coin onto Ma’s chest.

“Pleasure doing business.”

Ren turned to the room. The fight had stopped. The bandits were backing away, terrified of the Golems.

“Listen closely!” Ren’s voice boomed. He used [Authority]. The air grew heavy.

“This building is now the property of Nether-Core Tower. You are trespassing on private property.”

Lieutenant Fang spat blood. “You think a piece of paper stops Warlord Kui? We own this sector!”

“You own nothing,” Ren said. “You are evicted.”

He pointed at Fang.

“Lingshan. Liquidate the trespassers. Leave one alive to carry the message.”

The massacre lasted thirty seconds.

It wasn’t a fight. It was a cleanup operation.

[LOCATION: OUTSIDE THE WAREHOUSE]

[TIME: 02:45 AM]

Ren stepped out into the cool night air.

Han was waiting with a towel. Ren wiped a speck of dust from his shoe.

Behind them, the sounds of violence ceased.

Lingshan walked out, wiping her blade on a bandit’s sash.

Boss Ma stumbled out a moment later. He was alive. He clutched the silver coin in his hand like a lifeline. He looked back at his warehouse—now Ren’s warehouse.

“You…” Ma whispered. “You stole everything.”

“I saved your life,” Ren said without looking back. “The market is fair, Ma. You bet on the Iron-Blood Gang. You lost.”

Ren turned to Han.

“Repair the walls. Install a Sanctuary node by morning. We need this warehouse operational for the new supply chain.”

“Yes, sir!” Han beamed. “We got it for 1 Silver! That’s a… 99.99% discount!”

“That’s the market.”

Ren looked down the street. Other shop owners were peeking out of their windows. The Scrap Dealer. The Potion Brewer. They had watched the whole thing.

They saw Ma survive. They saw the Iron-Blood Gang broken.

But mostly, they saw the contract.

Ren smiled.

“Send a memo to the remaining holdouts. Tell them the subscription price just went up 5%.”

[SYSTEM STATUS]

[TERRITORY EXPANDED]

[ASSETS: TOWER + WAREHOUSE]

[MESSAGE SENT TO: IRON-BLOOD GANG]

Author’s Note:

The Market is ruthless. Ren isn’t saving people; he is acquiring them.

Next Chapter: The Smugglers need a road. Ren builds one. And steals the Gang’s revenue.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep