When Kai woke, the world smelled like burnt incense and wet coins.
The roof above him was gone—only splinters of marble and stained glass hung in the air like broken debt promises. The light was wrong too, a sickly golden shimmer that painted the ruins like sunrise on counterfeit gold.
He groaned, trying to sit up. His balance wobbled. Everything inside him screamed in overdraft.
"Ugh… note to self," he muttered, clutching his chest. "Never let divine entities touch my credit score again."
A familiar voice answered from nearby. "You technically agreed to that debt transfer, remember?"
Lena was slumped against a half-collapsed pillar, robes torn and covered in ash, but her tone was still sharp. "You signed the blessing with your blood."
Kai squinted. "It was a thumbprint, not a signature."
"That's still legally binding!" she snapped.
Around them, the ruined church groaned under the weight of divine aftershock. The once-gleaming statues of saints had melted into warped shapes — figures clutching ledgers and scales, their faces erased by holy flame. Every surface was dusted in glittering ash that looked suspiciously like powdered gold.
Then, a deep hum rumbled through the air — not thunder, but interest accruing.
Golden veins pulsed under the stone, spreading outward from the crater where the Debt King had emerged. The sigils burned like glowing circuits, crawling up the walls and across the city beyond.
Kai forced himself to stand. His body felt like it had been repossessed.
"Where's everyone else?"
Lena pointed weakly toward the far end of the nave. "Nyla's alive. Probably unconscious. The cat's… I think he used up his last credit to shield us."
As if on cue, a charred, smoky voice drifted from the rubble.
"Correction… second-to-last credit."
Credit, the cat, dragged himself out from under a pile of hymn books, singed but still smug. "I'm not dying until I see your student loans fully paid, Kai."
Kai smirked despite himself. "That's cruel optimism."
The three of them staggered to their feet, surveying what remained of the church. The giant debt circle carved into the floor now pulsed faintly, its glow synchronized with Kai's heartbeat. He could feel the link — a tug deep in his soul, like something was still borrowing from him.
Lena knelt, inspecting the runes. "This wasn't just an awakening ritual. It was a conversion rate. The entire city's economy is being rewritten."
Kai frowned. "Rewritten how?"
"Debt and faith… are now the same currency."
Outside, bells rang in eerie unison — the church, the guild, even the city's clock tower. Each toll vibrated through the sigil like a coin dropped into a bottomless jar.
And then the whispers began.
All around them, faint golden shapes emerged — citizens walking like sleepwalkers, eyes blank, their movements too precise, too quiet. Each one wore a glowing halo of numbers over their heads — debt amounts, ticking upward in real time.
"Holy hell," Kai whispered. "They're being taxed for breathing."
Lena's expression hardened. "No. They're praying through debt. The Debt King has made poverty divine."
At the far end of the street, a temple of light shimmered into existence — not built, but issued. Golden chains descended from the sky, wrapping around the city like celestial credit lines. A voice rolled across the wind, too calm, too merciful:
"All who owe shall be forgiven… once they have paid."
Kai's hands shook. The voice wasn't angry. It wasn't cruel. That made it worse.
He clenched his fists, feeling Limit Breaker react, the air around him warping as if reality itself resisted his balance sheet.
"Looks like the Debt King's offering redemption through interest," he muttered. "I'm gonna give him a refund policy instead."
Lena groaned. "You really want to pick a fight with a god right now?"
Kai's grin returned, tired but defiant. "If he's running the economy… then yeah. Someone's gotta file for bankruptcy."
A faint crack echoed beneath his feet — the sigil reacting to his debt climbing again. The runes turned blood red for a heartbeat before stabilizing, pulsing in rhythm with his determination.
The wind shifted. In the distance, gold smoke coalesced into the faint silhouette of the Debt King — tall, robed, and crowned with a halo shaped like a coin. His voice rolled again, echoing through every soul in the city:
"The debtor rises against the lender. So be it. Let us see whose faith yields more profit."
And with that, the streets ignited in gold fire.
The flames didn't spread like normal fire.
They moved with intention.
Every golden spark drifted upward, collecting around the Debt King's distant figure. The light gathered like a growing balance sheet, and with each pulse, the runes under Kai's feet throbbed harder. He could feel his own mana leaking—no, being collected.
Lena pressed her palm to the sigil. "He's drawing from you. You're his main account."
Kai's stomach sank. "That's… not comforting."
"You linked yourself to him when you invoked Limit Breaker during his awakening. Your debt, your strength—it's part of his system now."
"So I'm basically his credit card."
"More like his unsecured loan."
Kai groaned. "Fantastic."
A tremor rolled through the ground, toppling the last of the church walls. The holy bell—what remained of it—crashed to the street below, echoing like the clang of a cash register.
From the ruins, the first of the debt angels descended.
They weren't like the celestial beings from storybooks. These wore torn ledgers for wings, and their halos spun like golden coins. Each one carried quills dripping with molten gold, scribbling invisible records in the air.
Lena cursed. "They're auditors."
Kai blinked. "He sent angels to audit us?"
Credit sighed, tail flicking. "Well, Kai, you do have a history of delinquent payments."
One of the angels spotted them. Its face was smooth—featureless except for a glowing mouth that murmured,
"Unregistered borrower detected. Preparing enforcement."
The air thickened. Golden lines lashed out, wrapping around Kai's wrist like chains.
He yanked back, but they held fast.
A voice echoed from nowhere, mechanical and calm:
"Debt synchronization initiated. Payment due immediately."
Kai's pulse spiked. He could feel Limit Breaker kick in—his power surged, thrashing against the bindings. The chains cracked, light flickering red. For a moment, he felt something snap inside—not pain, but pressure, like breaking through a ceiling of control.
"Bad idea, birdbrain!" he yelled, and swung his fist.
The punch didn't hit flesh—it shattered concepts.
The angel burst into coins, dissolving into shimmering debt paper that rained around him. Each fragment whispered numbers before fading.
Kai stumbled forward, chest heaving. "Okay… maybe that was too much credit spent."
Lena stared at him. "Kai. That was divine power you just broke."
He grinned weakly. "Guess that means my interest rate's going up."
But behind the smirk, a flicker of worry crossed his eyes. The rush felt too good. Every ounce of strength came with that same whisper — the invisible pull of the Debt King's voice:
Spend more. Break more. Borrow everything.
For a moment, Kai wondered if he was really fighting against the system—or if he was feeding it.
Lena snapped him out of it. "We need to regroup. We can't stay here."
He nodded, forcing himself to move. They picked their way through the rubble, past burning pews and golden ash. In the distance, citizens wandered in silent lines, their eyes dim and halos bright. Every time one knelt to pray, the numbers above their heads grew.
"Debt as faith," Lena murmured. "He's weaponized devotion."
Kai stopped. "Then we hit his bank."
Lena blinked. "His—what?"
"If the Debt King runs on transactions, then we stop the flow. Cut the connection between him and the city's economy."
Credit jumped onto Kai's shoulder, shaking his scorched fur. "That's suicide. His temple is the economy now."
Kai smirked. "Then we'll just have to file for divine bankruptcy."
Lena gave him a flat stare. "You think you're clever, but your plans are like your wallet: empty."
Before Kai could answer, the ground cracked open—deep and sharp. From below, golden liquid spilled upward like molten coins. The sigils beneath the street pulsed violently, and in the reflection of the gold, Kai saw something that chilled him.
His own reflection… wearing the Debt King's crown.
The image flickered, distorted, then disappeared.
He froze. His breath caught.
"Kai?" Lena asked, noticing his expression.
He shook it off quickly, forcing a grin. "Nothing. Just… overdrafted on sleep."
But the image stayed burned in his mind.
They reached the city outskirts just as the sky dimmed to twilight. The temple in the distance had grown — golden pillars piercing the clouds. The entire skyline shimmered, warped into the shape of a massive balance scale.
Lena set down Nyla, who was still unconscious but breathing. "We'll rest here. You burned through half your mana."
Kai leaned against a wall. "I'm fine."
Credit looked at him knowingly. "You're lying."
He didn't answer. Instead, he stared toward the distant temple, the faint pulse in his chest syncing with its light.
For the first time since being reincarnated into this world, Kai felt something foreign beneath the humor and debt jokes — fear. Not for himself, but for what might happen if that connection deepened.
Because if Limit Breaker truly drew power from debt…
And if the Debt King was the source of all debt…
Then the more Kai fought, the closer he came to becoming exactly what he swore to destroy.
The temple loomed like a monument to excess.
Gold veins crawled up its walls, glowing faintly beneath the night sky. The closer Kai and the team crept, the more they could hear it — the faint hum of a thousand whispered prayers, each one translated into numbers.
Lena crouched beside him on the ridge, whispering, "Those are transactions. Every prayer's being logged."
Kai squinted. "Who prays with an invoice?"
"You'd be surprised how many religions thrive on interest," Credit muttered, nose twitching. "This is a sanctified accounting system. If the Debt King's merged faith and finance, we're not just fighting a god — we're fighting a market."
Kai cracked a grin. "Then we short it."
Lena stared. "You can't short-sell divine energy, Kai."
"You say that like I won't try."
Nyla groaned awake behind them, rubbing her head. "Ugh… what did I miss? Are we still alive?"
"Barely," Credit said. "And possibly audited."
"Perfect," she said dryly. "That's the exact opposite of comforting."
The four slipped through the outer gates, moving quietly between merchant stalls now turned into shrines. Each one sold "blessed bonds" — strips of enchanted paper that shimmered with holy text. Citizens offered their life savings to buy them, whispering thanks for "forgiveness rates" and "divine returns."
Kai picked one up off the counter.
The letters were familiar — too familiar.
It wasn't scripture. It was his old debt contract.
At the bottom, in faded ink, was his own signature.
He stared, pulse quickening. "This is one of my first Limit Breaker deals. From when I fought the Frost Dragon."
Lena leaned over. "They turned it into a holy relic."
"Not just one," Credit said grimly, his eyes glowing faintly. "All of them. Every time you borrowed power, it was recorded. And now… it's gospel."
Kai swallowed hard. "So the Debt King's church is built on me."
"That explains the bond," Lena murmured. "You're not just linked to him — you're his first disciple."
The idea hit like a punch to the chest.
He wanted to laugh, but it came out shaky. "That's… terrible branding."
"You think this is a joke?" Lena hissed. "He's rewriting faith using your contracts. The people aren't praying to him—they're praying through you."
Kai stared at the glowing stalls around them, every worshipper unknowingly feeding his power.
For once, he didn't have a comeback.
Inside the temple, the air grew heavy. The grand hall was lined with statues of faceless saints clutching scrolls of debt. At the center, an enormous ledger floated in midair, its pages turning slowly on their own. Every flip sounded like a heartbeat.
Kai stepped closer. "This thing's alive."
"It's the Grand Register," Credit whispered. "It holds every debt in the world. Every soul. Every bargain."
Lena's hand twitched toward her sword. "Then we destroy it."
Before anyone could move, a voice echoed through the chamber — deep, calm, and disturbingly familiar.
"Destroy it? But you owe it everything."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. The shadows behind the ledger began to stretch, forming a humanoid shape. The figure that emerged was regal, draped in golden threads that pulsed with life. A crown of burning numbers hovered above his head.
The Debt King.
Kai's jaw clenched. "You again."
The figure smiled faintly, though its eyes were empty. "Not again. I never left you, Kai."
"Yeah, I've been meaning to cancel our subscription."
The Debt King tilted his head, amused. "And yet, you keep renewing."
Every word he spoke resonated inside Kai's chest. He could feel his own mana responding, like his body recognized the authority.
"You've done well," the King continued. "You spread the faith of debt further than I ever could. Limit Breaker, the ability to grow through borrowing—it is my gospel, in human form."
Kai's fists tightened. "You're using people. You're turning desperation into devotion."
"Desperation is devotion," the King said softly. "You of all people should understand that. You begged the universe for a second chance, didn't you? You borrowed power you couldn't afford. Every act of faith begins with a plea… and a price."
Lena stepped forward, fury sparking in her voice. "You think suffering's sacred?"
The King's gaze shifted to her, almost pitying. "Suffering is the currency of growth. Would you rob your companion of the very thing that makes him strong?"
Kai's heartbeat thundered in his ears. He wanted to shout back, but the words caught in his throat. The King wasn't entirely wrong. His entire journey had been built on debt, risk, and reckless spending of his soul.
But then he remembered the people outside — the ones collapsing under glowing halos, praying for a miracle that only deepened their chains.
Kai looked up. "You know what? You're right."
The King smiled faintly. "Am I?"
"Yeah. I do owe everything to debt." He smirked, fire flickering behind his eyes. "But you? You're about to find out what happens when someone defaults on a god."
The room vibrated as Limit Breaker roared to life. The air cracked, golden light twisting red. His debt counter spun out of control, and for the first time, the Grand Register hesitated—its pages stuck between two entries.
The Debt King's calm expression finally faltered. "What are you doing?"
Kai grinned. "Paying off my balance—with interest."
He slammed his fist into the floor. The ledger shattered halfway open, releasing a burst of radiant energy that surged through the temple. Chains of golden light snapped, screaming as they dissolved into the air. Outside, the halos above the citizens flickered and dimmed.
The Debt King hissed, voice echoing like a collapsing vault. "You fool! You can't destroy debt—only transfer it!"
Kai's eyes glowed crimson-gold. "Yeah. And guess where I'm sending it."
The temple exploded in a storm of gold and red, swallowing both of them in blinding light.
The city was quiet.
Too quiet for a place that had just survived divine annihilation.
Ash hung in the air like frozen snow, glowing faintly gold. The streets that once bustled with merchants and laughter were now empty, lined with cracked marble and smoking sigils. Every signboard, every shopfront, every cobblestone shimmered with a faint numeric light — silent reminders of debt unpaid.
Kai stood in the center of it all, fist still steaming from the punch that ended the angel.
The weight in his chest wasn't pride. It was something heavier.
He looked down at his hand. The skin wasn't burned, but the veins shimmered faintly gold, like molten wire under his skin. He clenched his fist again, and the glow pulsed in sync with his heartbeat.
"Limit Breaker…" he muttered. "What the hell are you doing to me?"
Credit perched on a toppled statue, tail flicking. "That question assumes your power answers to you."
Lena crouched beside a fallen pillar, scanning one of the runes that had cracked open from the explosion. "He's right. Whatever that punch was, it didn't just destroy that angel — it broke part of the Debt King's accounting system."
Kai blinked. "So I just… broke a god's spreadsheet?"
"Not funny, Kai. Those runes were his network. He'll rebuild them, but for now, the flow of divine currency's interrupted. You bought us time."
"Good," Kai said, forcing a grin. "Maybe I'll get a receipt for saving the world."
But even he could hear how forced the humor sounded.
They moved into what remained of the cathedral. The once-grand hall was little more than twisted stone and melted gold, the pews warped into jagged shapes. In the center, embedded in the cracked floor, was a single surviving page — still glowing faintly.
Lena approached it cautiously. "It's… still intact?"
Kai stepped closer, brushing off soot. The page was smooth, shimmering with faint script that pulsed like a heartbeat. But the writing—he froze.
It wasn't divine lettering.
It was his handwriting.
"What the—" He bent down, tracing the ink.
Each line was familiar, but wrong.
"I, Kai Everain, hereby accept the debt of a world."
"In exchange for power, I pledge my name, my will, my soul—until balance is restored."
His chest tightened. "This… this is my signature."
Lena looked up sharply. "Kai, are you sure?"
He nodded slowly, voice thin. "Yeah. I used to sign receipts like this at my old job. Before… you know." He gestured vaguely, meaning before dying, reincarnating, and being broke again.
Credit padded closer, staring at the page with narrowed eyes. "That's not just your signature. That's a contract."
Kai blinked. "But I don't remember making one."
"Then maybe you didn't have a choice," Credit said softly. "Maybe this deal was made before you ever woke up here."
For the first time, Kai had no comeback. The air around him felt heavier, the faint gold shimmer along his arm pulsing faster, brighter.
Lena tore her gaze from the page. "If this is true, then your reincarnation wasn't an accident."
Kai's voice cracked slightly. "You saying someone bought me?"
"I'm saying," Lena said carefully, "someone invested in you."
The word felt wrong in his mouth. "Invested…"
He let out a hollow laugh. "So I'm not just broke — I'm collateral."
They set up camp outside the cathedral's ruins that night.
The moon above was fractured by drifting clouds of divine dust, painting the city in gold and shadow.
Kai sat by the small fire they'd built, staring at his reflection in a cracked piece of armor. His eyes — once a dull brown — now shimmered faintly gold in the firelight. The same color as the runes. As the angels. As the Debt King.
Credit watched him quietly. "You're thinking too hard again."
"Kind of hard not to," Kai muttered. "I used to think all this—" he gestured to the smoldering skyline, "—was some cosmic joke. I get isekai'd, get a dumb power, rack up debt to grow stronger. But now I find out I might've signed up for this before I even got here?"
"Maybe you were tricked," Credit said.
Kai smirked faintly. "Wouldn't be the first time I agreed to something without reading the fine print."
Lena joined them, dropping down beside the fire. Her usually steady hands trembled slightly as she held her staff. "You know, most people wouldn't take this so lightly."
Kai leaned back. "Most people didn't spend their last life arguing with vending machines."
Lena didn't laugh. She looked at him — really looked — and for once, Kai couldn't hide behind his humor. He saw his reflection in her eyes: exhausted, haunted, and still pretending everything was fine.
After a long silence, she spoke. "Kai… you realize this could change everything, right? If your power comes from that contract—if your existence is part of the Debt King's system—then destroying him might destroy you."
Kai didn't answer right away. He just stared into the fire.
Finally, he said quietly, "Then I guess I'll have to file for a very… personal bankruptcy."
Later that night, Kai couldn't sleep. He walked away from camp, up a small ridge overlooking the ruined city.
The golden temple still glowed in the distance, faint and cold. It looked smaller from here — less divine, more desperate. Like a god clinging to his last coin.
Kai reached into his pocket and pulled out the contract page. It was warm to the touch, pulsing faintly in time with his heartbeat. The ink shimmered — not gold, but red now, like blood diluted in light.
He traced the words again, his signature at the bottom mocking him.
"Until balance is restored."
"What does that even mean?" he whispered. "Whose balance? His? Mine?"
The wind didn't answer. But the paper rustled faintly in his hand, and he could've sworn he heard a voice — faint, whispering under the crackle of gold.
"You already know."
Kai's breath caught. "Who's there?"
No answer. Just the soft hum of divine power in the air, like the city itself was breathing through him. He felt dizzy. His arm flared again, glowing through his sleeve. The sigils along his skin shifted like numbers on a ledger, calculating, rearranging.
"Stop—" he hissed, clutching his arm.
Then, as quickly as it started, the glow faded.
The paper disintegrated in his hand, scattering like ash.
He stared at the empty air, chest pounding.
There was no message. No voice. Just silence.
And yet, deep inside, a single thought burned:
"I wasn't reincarnated to be free. I was sent here to pay."
When he returned to camp, Lena was awake, waiting.
She didn't ask questions. She just handed him a cup of water and said quietly, "We move at dawn."
Kai nodded, eyes distant. "Yeah. Dawn."
Credit stretched, yawning. "And where exactly are we moving, genius?"
Kai looked out at the horizon, where the first faint light of morning touched the temple's highest spire.
"To the capital," he said. "If the Debt King's ledger runs through this world, we'll find its core there."
Lena frowned. "That's suicide."
Kai smiled tiredly. "So was taking out a loan for college."
As the first light of day broke across the ruined city, Kai slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking. The gold in his veins dimmed to a faint glow, pulsing like a heartbeat beneath his skin.
Each step echoed softly on the cracked marble, and with every echo, a whisper followed him.
"Balance must be restored."
He didn't know if it was prophecy or punishment.
But for the first time, Kai stopped pretending.
He wasn't fighting debt anymore.
He was paying it.