"Ethan Su, your life ends here."
The blade kissed my throat, cold steel promising death with surgical precision. Rain hammered down like bullets from heaven's machine gun, each drop exploding against concrete in a symphony of violence that would be my funeral march.
Derek Kane—my former best friend, my brother in arms—loomed over me with the cruel satisfaction of a predator savoring its kill.
"Next life, don't be born worthless."
But in my eyes, the world had transformed into something else entirely.
No life flashing before my eyes, no peaceful acceptance of death. Instead, crimson data erupted above Derek's head like a demonic tax bill printed in blood:
**[TARGET: Derek Kane]**
**[Identity: Lv.15 Swordsman | Status: Murderous Intent Detected]**
**[SEVERE TAX VIOLATION: Attempted Murder of "Supreme Tax Collector"]**
**[Amount Owed: 50,000 EXP + 1 Life]**
**[Forced Collection Success Rate: 100%]**
My clouded vision snapped into razor focus. Blood leaked from my split lip as I smiled—an expression so wrong, so violently inappropriate, that Derek's confidence flickered like a candle in hurricane wind.
"Sorry."
My voice came out hoarse, yet vibrating with bone-deep excitement that made the rain taste like champagne.
"But I've got my eye on your life too."
Derek blinked, processing my words, then exploded into manic laughter like he'd heard the world's greatest joke.
"Still talking tough when you're about to die?" He spun toward the woman holding a phone behind him, rain streaming off his face like tears of joy. "Sophia, get the close-up! Let the whole school see what happens to thieves who steal guild treasures!"
Sophia Reyes stood under a black umbrella, camera locked on my face with the cold professionalism of someone filming roadkill for a nature documentary.
"Already recording." She glanced at the comment stream, voice flat as concrete. "Don't blame me, Ethan. Derek needs proof for his Awakener Alliance application. Your death is his stepping stone. You should feel honored."
Phone light reflected off my face as comments exploded across the screen in a digital feeding frenzy:
*[Is this the thief? Looks human but he's trash!]*
*[Kill him! Garbage like this wastes oxygen!]*
*[Derek's so hot! Execute the loser!]*
*[Make him suffer first!]*
Live-streamed execution. Social annihilation broadcast to thousands.
They wanted to grind me into nothing, erase me from existence itself.
The red warning box in my vision pulsed frantically, system voice losing its mechanical tone and becoming something hungry, predatory, alive.
**[WARNING: Host Near Death!]**
**[Multidimensional Tax Collection System—VIOLENT ACTIVATION INITIATED!]**
**[Execute Forced Collection Protocol?]**
"Enough talking." Golden fire exploded in my pupils like twin ledgers flipping through pages of cosmic debt. "Execute."
"Die!"
Derek's patience snapped like overstretched wire. His sword carved through rain toward my heart, wrapped in killing intent so pure it made the air scream!
*Squelch*—
Blood sprayed in arterial arcs.
But Derek's triumphant snarl froze mid-expression, transforming into something approaching horror.
The blade had stopped. My right hand—supposedly chained and helpless—had somehow broken free and caught the razor edge bare-handed, fingers wrapped around steel that should have severed them to bone!
"Catching a blade barehanded? You've lost your fucking mind..." Derek tried yanking his sword back, horror dawning as he realized it wouldn't budge even a millimeter.
Worse—my blood wasn't dripping to the ground like normal human blood should. Instead, it transformed into golden threads that flowed up the blade like hungry serpents, coiling around his arm with predatory intelligence.
I raised my head, golden pupils holding no emotion, only the cold calculation of an accountant tallying debts.
"In the name of the Tax Bureau."
My voice dropped to a hellish growl that made thunder sound like whispers.
"I declare you—**BANKRUPT!**"
**[FORCED COLLECTION PROTOCOL EXECUTING!]**
**[Collection Item: Level Experience (Lv.15 → Lv.0)]**
**[Collection Item: Sword Technique Memory (Complete Seizure)]**
**[Collection Item: Remaining Lifespan (50% Confiscated)]**
"AHHHHHHH—!"
His scream drowned out thunder, a sound so raw it made nearby windows crack.
Derek watched his sword arm wither in real-time like time-lapse footage of decay. Muscle deflated like punctured balloons, skin sprouting liver spots and wrinkles. The power he'd cultivated for years—his pride, his identity, his future—got sucked out by an industrial vacuum that cared nothing for his dreams.
The glowing **[Lv.15]** above his head crumbled like a demolished building, collapsing to zero in seconds.
Meanwhile, my palm's bone-deep wound healed at visible speed, flesh knitting together with wet sounds. Color flooded back into my pale face as stolen vitality coursed through my veins.
**[DEPOSIT RECEIVED: 48,500 EXP!]**
**[Host Level Surge: Lv.0 → Lv.5 → Lv.10 → Lv.12!]**
**[Skill Acquired: Basic Swordsmanship (Master Level)]**
*Clang.*
The rusted blade hit concrete with finality.
Derek collapsed into muddy water like melted wax, trembling, aged thirty years in thirty seconds. He stared at his withered hands—hands that had once been strong enough to crush stone—voice cracking like old leather: "My power... my level... what did you do with my talent?!"
Silence stretched between us, broken only by rain drumming against concrete.
Sophia stood frozen, phone slipping from numb fingers to splash in a puddle. The livestream cut to black, her last expression pure terror as she realized she'd just filmed something that shouldn't exist.
I rose slowly, joints popping like firecrackers as new power settled into my bones.
Picking up Derek's sword, I spun it in a perfect flourish—his muscle memory from ten years of training, downloaded directly into my nervous system. Mine now.
"Whether I'm a demon doesn't matter."
I walked to Derek, raised my boot, and ground his once-arrogant face into the mud with the casual cruelty of someone stepping on an ant.
"What matters is you owe taxes."
Crouching down, I tapped the sword tip against his wrinkled cheek, voice arctic enough to freeze blood: "Remind me—who's the worthless one now?"
Derek's mouth gaped like a fish drowning in air. Pure terror made him soil himself, the stench mixing with blood and rain in a cocktail of humiliation.
*WOOOO—WOOOO!*
Sirens shrieked through the downpour like banshees announcing judgment day. Searchlight beams lanced from above, pinning me in their glare like a specimen under a microscope.
Helicopter rotors thundered overhead, mechanical angels of death. A voice boomed through speakers with the authority of gods:
"This is Awakener Alliance Branch Three! Drop your weapon immediately or face lethal force!"
A Lv.40 powerhouse. The Branch Chief himself had arrived to the party.
My system interface flashed crimson warnings that painted my vision red.
**[ALERT: High-Threat Target Approaching!]**
**[Side Effect Triggered: Soul Starvation Syndrome Activated!]**
**[URGENT MISSION: Collect Higher-Tier "Conceptual" Assets Within 24 Hours or Host Will Self-Cannibalize!]**
Indescribable hunger burned through my gut—not for food, but for *lives*, for *power*, for the essence that made people more than meat