The view from the top of Vayne Tower was different than the view from the Academy dorms.
From here, fifty stories up in the heart of the Imperial Capital, the people looked like ants. The carriages looked like toys. And the Academy, where I had just crushed the "Hero" of this world, looked like a quaint little sandbox I had outgrown.
I sat behind a desk made of polished void-wood, sipping a glass of wine that cost more than the average citizen earned in a decade.
On my desk, a holographic terminal was blinking furiously.
[Incoming Call: Duke Pendragon]
[Incoming Call: General Armstrong]
[Incoming Call: The Minister of Finance]
I swiped my hand, dismissing them all.
"Let them wait," I murmured. "Desperation increases the value of my time."
It had been one week since the Tournament. One week since I exposed Kaelen as a monster, saved the audience (ironically), and walked away with the Emperor's favor.
My stock portfolio was up 400%. Vayne Corp had just secured exclusive contracts for the repair of the Arena barrier. I was no longer just a student. I was the "Monster of Vayne," the youngest Baron in history, and the most dangerous man in the Empire.
But before I could move forward, I had one loose end to tie up.
The Imperial Medical Ward was sterile, white, and smelled of antiseptic and misery.
I walked past two Royal Guards who snapped to attention as I approached Room 304.
"Lord Vayne," one said, opening the door. "He hasn't spoken since he woke up."
"He'll speak to me," I said, stepping inside.
The room was sparse. In the bed, looking small and pale against the white sheets, lay Kaelen.
He wasn't the Golden Boy anymore. His hair was dull and matted. His eyes, once bright with determination, were hollow pits of despair.
But the most striking detail was his left hand. It was heavily bandaged, terminating abruptly where his ring finger used to be.
I pulled up a chair and sat down.
Kaelen didn't look at me. He stared at the ceiling.
"You came to gloat?" he rasped, his voice sounding unused.
"I don't gloat, Kaelen. Gloating is for people who are surprised they won. I'm just conducting a post-mortem."
Kaelen slowly turned his head. The hatred was still there, buried deep under the trauma, but it was a cold, impotent hatred now.
"Why didn't you kill me?" he asked. "In the arena... you had the knife. You could have ended it. Why let me live like this? Stripped of my title. Expelled. Maimed."
I crossed my legs, smoothing the fabric of my trousers.
"Because death is easy, Kaelen. Death is a release. You die, you become a martyr, and people write sad songs about how the Void corrupted a noble soul."
I leaned forward.
"But living? Living with failure is hard. Every time you look at your hand, you'll remember that you weren't strong enough. Every time you see my face on the news, you'll remember that you couldn't stop me."
Kaelen flinched.
"Besides," I added, standing up. "I might need a scapegoat later. The world always needs a villain, Kaelen. If I'm too busy being the hero, I might need someone to take the fall."
"You're a demon," Kaelen whispered.
"I'm a Baron," I corrected. "Get well soon."
I walked out, leaving him alone in the silence of his own failure.
Back at the penthouse, the atmosphere was different.
It was time.
On the center table sat a box made of obsidian, sealed with the Imperial Crest. A royal courier had delivered it an hour ago.
I broke the seal and opened the lid.
Inside, resting on red velvet, was the [Dragon's Tear].
It was a gemstone the size of a walnut, swirling with liquid gold and crimson mana. It hummed with a power that made the air in the room vibrate.
In the game, this item was the catalyst for the Second Awakening. It allowed a player to break the Level 20 cap and evolve their class.
However, in the game, it also had a 50% chance of killing the user if their constitution wasn't high enough.
"Nero," I called out.
The shadows in the corner boiled, and my Abyssal General stepped forth. He stood silent, a sentinel of death guarding the door.
"Ensure I am not disturbed," I ordered.
I then turned to the table. I wasn't going to leave my survival to a coin flip.
I lined up three vials next to the Tear.
[Elixir of Titan's Blood ($5 Million)]: massively boosts constitution for 1 hour.
[Soul-Anchor Totem ($12 Million)]: prevents spirit fragmentation.
[Vayne Corp Stabilizer Shot (Prototype)]: regulates mana flow.
"Pay to win," I smiled, downing the potions one by one.
My body felt heavy, fortified like a fortress.
I picked up the Dragon's Tear. It was warm.
I put it in my mouth and swallowed.
Burn.
The sensation was instant. It felt like I had swallowed a star. Liquid fire raced through my veins, tearing through the artificial limits of my human body.
I fell to my knees, gripping the edge of the table.
In the game, this was just a progress bar. In reality, it was agony. My mana circuits were being torn apart and rebuilt, expanded to hold a reservoir of power no human should possess.
"Ghh...!"
I gritted my teeth, refusing to scream. I focused on the expensive potions stabilizing my heart, forcing the chaotic dragon mana to submit to my will.
Submit, I commanded mentally. I bought you. You work for me now.
The golden fire clashed with my own blue mana, fighting for dominance. But the Void Heart in my inventory resonated, adding its own dark gravity to the mix, crushing the dragon's will.
DING.
The pain vanished instantly, replaced by a feeling of infinite lightness.
I stood up. I felt... taller. Clearer. I could see the mana in the air, drifting like dust motes.
A series of golden notifications cascaded in front of my eyes.
[ System Notification: Awakening Successful. ]
[ Level Cap Broken: 20 ➔ ∞ ]
[ All Stats Increased by +50. ]
[ Class Evolution Triggered. ]
[ Base Class: Tycoon. ]
[ Catalyst: Dragon's Tear + Void Influence. ]
[ New Class: Void Capitalist. ]
[ New Trait Unlocked: Mana Banker. ]
[Description: You understand that Mana and Money are interchangeable. You may now convert Gold into Mana (to replenish reserves) and Mana into Gold (to generate wealth) at a variable exchange rate.]
I stared at the trait.
Mana Banker.
In the game, this was the ultimate broken ability. If I ran out of mana in a fight, I could literally burn money from my bank account to cast spells. And if I needed cash, I could drain my mana to mint coins.
"Infinite sustain," I whispered, clenching my fist. Blue and gold energy crackled around my fingers. "As long as I'm rich, I'm a god."
I walked to the window, feeling the power surge through me. My reflection looked back—sharper, colder, hungrier than before. Blue-gold mana crackled around my fingers like liquid lightning, hungering for release.
I was ready.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A red alert flashed on the massive wall-screen of my office, breaking the moment.
I looked at the map. The Southern Duchies, the breadbasket of the Empire, were blinking red.
[Breaking News: Mysterious Outbreak in Oakhaven Region!]
[Report: A strange "Green Fog" is consuming villages. Healers are baffled. Mortality rate: 100%.]
I watched the footage. Grainy magical recording showed villagers coughing up black bile, their skin turning green and rotting while they were still alive. The crops were wilting instantly.
The Second Calamity. The Pestilence.
In the original timeline, this plague wiped out 30% of the Empire's population and caused a famine that lasted a decade.
But in this timeline...
I checked my inventory. I had the [Void Queen's Gland] from the first boss. The raw material needed for the cure.
Seraphina would be waiting in the next room, ready for orders. She had chosen the ruins. Now she would rule them with me.
I smiled at my reflection.
"Right on schedule," I said, reaching for my phone to call my factory manager.
"Time to patent the cure."