[LOCATION: SECTOR 9 — FINANCIAL DISTRICT]
[TIME: 03:50 AM]
The smog in Sector 9 didn't taste like pollution.
It tasted like greed.
Ren Wu stepped out of the car and straightened his tie. The air reeked of sulfur, cheap incense, and desperate ambition—the kind that made people sell their souls for a promotion.
Before him stood Nether-Core Tower.
Fifty stories of black glass stabbing into the grey sky like a corporate middle finger. It was designed to intimidate—to make anyone who looked up feel small and powerless.
To the average ghost, it was a palace of opportunity.
To Ren, it was a desecration.
His eyes shifted. The world peeled back like old wallpaper.
He didn't see an office building anymore. He saw the truth underneath.
**[JUDGMENT EYE: ACTIVE]**
[TARGET: NETHER-CORE TOWER]
[ORIGIN: ANCIENT EARTH MERIDIAN]
[CURRENT STATE:
DEFILED BY COMMERCE]
[SPIRITUAL PRESSURE: LEAKING]
[VERDICT: RECLAIM]
"Disgusting," Ren murmured, his voice carrying harmonics that made the air vibrate. "They capped a sacred Earth Meridian with a call center. It's bleeding spiritual energy like a severed artery."
Ye Lingshan stood beside him, hand instinctively resting on her sword hilt. She studied the entrance, then glanced at him nervously.
"Ren, we can't just walk in. Look."
Two massive figures blocked the revolving glass doors.
Spirit-Iron Golems.
Eight feet of black metal and burning red runes. War machines designed to crush tanks. Steam hissed from their joints as their scanner-eyes swept the street in perfect synchronization.
Tier-B constructs. Military grade.
"Those are Tier-Bs," Lingshan whispered, muscles coiling. "I can maybe stall the left one for thirty seconds. You'll need to sprint for the service entrance while I—"
Ren didn't break stride. He walked straight toward the main doors.
"We're not sneaking, Miss Ye."
He buttoned his suit jacket with casual precision.
"And they're not guards. They're greeters."
The Golems detected movement instantly.
Their eye-runes flashed from passive yellow to kill-on-sight crimson.
Hydraulic pistons groaned as they stepped forward, pavement cracking under tons of iron weight. The left one raised a fist the size of an engine block, ready to turn Ren into a red smear.
Lingshan's sword cleared its sheath with a metallic ring. "REN! GET BACK!"
Ren didn't stop. Didn't flinch. Didn't even raise a hand.
He just l*looked up.
Met the Golem's glowing red eye.
And released a pulse of Sovereign Aura.
It wasn't wind. It wasn't force. It was gravity.
The air around Ren suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. The spiritual pressure of a soul that had once rewritten Hell's operating system washed over the machines like a tidal wave of absolute authority.
[AUTHORITY ASSERTED]
[SIGNATURE DETECTED:
THE ARCHITECT]
[OVERRIDE COMMAND: SUBMIT]
The Golem's fist stopped inches from Ren's face.
Its red eye flickered. Buzzed. The rune-light shifted from crimson to pale, reverent blue.
The war machine didn't attack.
It trembled.
Then, with the groan of straining metal, it took one step back.
And bent its knee.
CRACK.
Concrete shattered as eight feet of military-grade iron knelt, lowering its massive head until it was level with Ren's chest.
A heartbeat later, the second Golem followed suit.
Lingshan froze mid-swing, sword raised uselessly. Her mouth opened but no sound came out. She stared at the kneeling war machines, then at Ren.
What the fuck just happened?
Ren reached out and patted the first Golem's cold metal forehead like it was a loyal dog.
"Good boy," he said softly.
He walked past the kneeling giants and pushed through the revolving doors without breaking stride.
"Come along, Miss Ye. Don't be rude to the staff."
---
The lobby was chaos.
Dozens of low-level spirits and employees scrambled like rats on a sinking ship. Papers were being shredded. Computers ripped from walls. File cabinets emptied into garbage bags.
They knew Ren held toxic debt on the company. They knew the ledgers were cooked. They were looting everything not nailed down before the collapse.
Then the doors spun.
Ren walked in.
Behind him, the two massive Golems squeezed through the entrance, flanking him like royal guards. Their eyes burned blue, scanning the room for threats to their new master.
The silence hit like a physical blow.
Shredders stopped mid-whir. Looters froze with stolen monitors in their arms. A goblin dropped an entire box of staplers, the metal clattering obscenely loud in the sudden quiet.
Every eye turned toward the man in the immaculate suit.
Ren walked to the reception desk like he owned the building.
*Because he was about to.
The receptionist—a young ghost with transparent skin—trembled so hard her form flickered like a bad signal.
"S-sir?" she squeaked. "You... you can't be here. The Board is in emergency session. Top floor. Absolutely no visitors—"
Ren paused. Adjusted his watch.
"I know," he said, his voice polite, calm, and utterly *terrifying. "I'm late for it."
He walked toward the elevators.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea.
No one dared breathe until the elevator doors slid shut.
---
[FLOOR 50: EXECUTIVE SUITE]
Inside the boardroom, the air smelled of expensive cigars and fear.
Branch Manager Zhou paced the length of the mahogany table like a caged animal. He was a corpulent ghost, his designer suit straining against his bulk. Ectoplasmic sweat—the ghost equivalent—dripped down his jowls.
"Liquidate it ALL!" Zhou screamed at the four executives cowering around the table. "The boy is DEAD! I want his factory sold for scrap by sunrise! Sell his ghosts to the mines! Burn the contracts! Burn everything!"
"But sir," an executive stammered, "if he's dead, the debt legally transfers to his estate. The Ye Clan might—"
"TO HELL WITH THE YE CLAN!" Zhou slammed both fists on the table. "Ren Wu was a glitch! A street rat who got lucky! He's GONE, and his ledger is ASH! Find his corpse and dump it in the River of Forgetfulness just to be—"
BOOM.
The heavy oak doors didn't open.
They exploded.
Wood splinters shot across the room like shrapnel. One of the doors flew the entire length of the table and smashed into the far wall, missing Zhou's head by inches.
Dust billowed from the doorway.
Through the cloud of debris, a figure emerged.
He wasn't running. He was *walking.*
Casual. Unhurried. Like he was arriving for a scheduled appointment.
He brushed a speck of sawdust off his lapel.
"You have a loud voice for a temporary employee, Mr. Zhou," Ren said.
Zhou stumbled backward, bracing himself against the window. His eyes bulged like a fish.
"Ren... Ren Wu?"
He looked past Ren at the two Golems standing in the hallway, their blue eyes burning in the darkness.
"Impossible... You're supposed to be a CORPSE! The Underworld Death Registry *confirmed it!*"
Ren walked to the head of the table—the Chairman's seat—with measured steps. The other executives scrambled out of their chairs, pressing themselves against the walls like cornered animals.
They felt it.
The pressure radiating from him wasn't just intimidation. It was the primal terror of prey realizing a predator has entered the cage.
"Registries make mistakes," Ren said calmly. "I don't."
He stopped beside Zhou's chair.
Zhou tried to summon his cultivation. He was Tier-C—strong enough to crush a human's skull with one hand.
But he couldn't move.
Ren's aura pinned him in place like gravity had increased tenfold.
"The... the ledger..." Zhou gasped, clutching his chest. "You can't enforce it. It's FRAUD! I'll report you to Capital! They'll—"
Ren smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Fraud is such an ugly word, Mr. Zhou."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out the Black Debt Ledger.
*THUD.*
He dropped it on the table.
The sound was heavier than a book should make. It sounded like a coffin lid slamming shut.
Ren placed his hand on the cover. Golden light bled from beneath his fingers, spreading across the wood like burning veins.
[JUDGMENT EYE: ACTIVE]
[TARGET: ZHOU FENG (BRANCH MANAGER)]
[DEBT: 4,000,000 SPIRIT SILVER]
[COLLATERAL: ETERNAL SOUL]
[STATUS: DEFAULTED]
[PAYMENT: 97 DAYS OVERDUE]
"According to this," Ren said softly, "your soul was listed as collateral for the Q3 expansion loan. You missed the final payment deadline..."
He checked his watch.
"Three minutes ago."
Zhou's face went from red to bone white. "No... WAIT! I can pay! I have assets! I have connections! I can—"
"I'm afraid your subscription to existence has expired."
Ren tapped the ledger once.
[DECREE: ASSET REPOSSESSION]
Black chains erupted from the book like striking serpents.
Zhou didn't get to scream. The chains wrapped around his throat, chest, arms—and *pulled.*
He didn't vanish. He was *dragged.* Violently sucked into the pages like smoke into a vacuum cleaner.
His fingers clawed at the table. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
Then he was gone.
The book snapped shut with a sound like breaking bones.
Silence.
Ren pulled out the chair—Zhou's chair—and sat down. He crossed his legs and looked at the four executives trembling against the wall.
"This meeting is now called to order," Ren said, folding his hands on the table like a CEO about to discuss quarterly earnings.
"First item on the agenda: your severance packages."
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[STRATEGIC NODE SECURED]
[NETHER-CORE TOWER: UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT]
[SECTOR 9 GATEWAY: CONTROLLED]
[PHASE TWO: ACTIVE]