[Current Stack: 53 Common, 3 Rare, 1 Boss Chest, 1 Resonance Milestone.] [Vault Pressure: 87% Capacity. Warning: Cellular damage imminent if unreleased.]
The glowing blue text hovered in the corner of Yuto's vision, mocking him. His right arm felt like it had been dipped in boiling lead. The crimson mist bleeding from his Babel-Stigma was so thick it was starting to curl around his knuckles like smoke.
"Kurosawa-dono," Ayase said softly.
Yuto flinched, snapping his attention back to the ruined subway tunnel. Ayase was kneeling beside him, having just torn a strip of clean white cloth from the hem of her kimono. Her bare thigh was now exposed to the cold, damp air of the dungeon, but she didn't seem to care. Her focus was entirely on Yuto's bleeding hand.
"Your Stigma," she murmured, her sharp, beautiful eyes filled with a mix of awe and concern. "It is burning. I have never seen a Hunter project so much raw, unspent mana. Is this the recoil of your martial arts?"
No, it's the recoil of me being a greedy loot-goblin, Yuto thought, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted copper.
"Do not touch it," Yuto said, his voice a gravelly whisper. He pulled his hand back quickly. If she touched the Stigma, the System would absolutely register it as physical intimacy, and he did not have the mental fortitude to reject another [Resonance Milestone] right now.
Ayase bowed her head, immediately contrite. "Forgive me. I overstepped. But the boss... it dropped a Sapphire Core Chest. I saw it before it digitized. Why did you not consume it to heal your wounds?"
Yuto's brain scrambled for an excuse. He couldn't exactly tell the proud, honorable samurai that he was edging his loot for a massive dopamine payout later. He needed to sound wise. He needed to sound like the enlightened warrior she thought he was.
"A sword," Yuto began, staring deeply into a rusted puddle on the floor to avoid looking at her exposed leg, "is not forged by pouring molten steel directly into water. It must be folded. Hammered. Left in the fire until the impurities burn away." He slowly looked up, meeting her gaze with the coldest, most intense stare he could muster. "If I consume the core now, I am simply eating the beast's strength. If I wait... I conquer it."
Ayase's breath hitched. Her eyes went wide, reflecting the neon light filtering through the cracked ceiling.
"You... you deny the System's instant rewards to forcibly temper your own soul," she whispered, her voice trembling with sheer reverence. "You treat the Babel Tower not as a game, but as a crucible. Heavens... the Yakuza elders spoke of such discipline, but I thought it was only a myth."
[System Prompt: Admiration Milestone Reached! Target: Ayase. Claim 10% Spirit Stat Bonus?]
I am a fraud. I am a massive, dirty fraud, Yuto wept internally, furiously swiping his eyes away from the prompt to let it fall into the Vault.
[Milestone Vaulted. Current Multiplier: 145.2%] [Warning: Vault Pressure rising to 88%.]
A sharp spike of pain shot behind Yuto's eyes, making him stumble. Before he could hit the concrete, Ayase caught him by the shoulder.
"We must find a safe zone," she said, her tone shifting from reverent to deadly serious. "The explosion from the Scrap-Oni will attract scavengers. Or worse."
"Too late for that, Princess," a raspy, synthetic voice echoed down the tunnel.
Yuto groaned. From the shadows of the collapsed ticket gates, three figures stepped into the flickering neon light. They wore heavy, reinforced trench coats with the unmistakable emblem of a serpent eating its own tail stitched onto the shoulders.
The Ouroboros Guild.
The man in the center—a heavily augmented Enforcer with glowing green optic sensors in place of his eyes—tapped a spiked baseball bat against the palm of his metallic hand.
"Scrap-Oni on Floor 4," the Enforcer whistled, looking at the massive crater and the lingering data-particles. "That's a big kill. Worth a Sapphire Core, at least. And as you know, Guildmaster Ryūzen claims a ninety percent tax on all boss drops in this sector."
Ayase instantly stepped in front of Yuto, her hand dropping to the hilt of her katana. Even exhausted and drained of mana, her stance was flawless. "The Ouroboros Guild has no jurisdiction here. We killed the beast. The loot is ours."
The Enforcer laughed, a grating, metallic sound. "Jurisdiction is whoever has the biggest guns, samurai-girl. Now, hand over the core. Both of you."
He pointed the spiked bat directly at Yuto. "Especially you, rat. You look like you're about to pop a blood vessel. Hand it over, and maybe we let you keep the spare change."
Yuto slowly stood up, gently pushing Ayase aside. His body was screaming in agony. The Vault pressure was crushing his lungs. If he opened his interface and clicked [CLAIM ALL], he would instantly gain the fused power of 50 fragments, a Boss Chest, and two romantic milestones. He would rip these three Enforcers apart in a nanosecond.
But if he did that, the multiplier would reset to zero. The 145% compound interest he had suffered for over the last week would be gone.
Not yet, Yuto's inner greed snarled. Three random lackeys aren't worth the payout.
"I don't have the core," Yuto said, his voice eerily calm.
The Enforcer narrowed his synthetic eyes. "Don't lie to me, trash. The system scanner shows a massive concentration of unspent Code Fragments right where you're standing. Drop the loot."
"I said," Yuto repeated, taking a step forward. The crimson mist radiating from his hand suddenly flared, illuminating the dark tunnel in a terrifying, blood-red glow. The sheer, compressed density of his vaulted stats created a gravitational pressure that made the loose pebbles on the ground vibrate. "I don't have it."
The three Enforcers took an involuntary step back, their combat instincts screaming at them. The kid had no visible armor. No weapon. Just a cheap, bloodstained jacket. But the magical pressure radiating off him felt like standing in front of a deranged, starving dragon.
"Kurosawa-dono..." Ayase whispered, her grip tightening on her sword. She was ready to die fighting beside him.
Yuto raised his bare, glowing fists. If he couldn't use his stats, he was just going to have to beat them to death with the physical weight of his own agonizing restraint.
"Come collect your tax," Yuto smiled, his teeth stained with his own blood. "If you can."