"Collateral?" Brutus let out a booming, abrasive laugh that echoed off the peeling wallpaper of the foyer.
He looked at the unarmed, soaking-wet teenager standing before the locked doors. Then he looked at the three armed thugs flanking him.
Crash!
The sound of shattering glass erupted from the dining room. A fifth thug—one of the guards Silas had bypassed outside—tumbled through the broken window, brushing shards of glass off his leather armor.
"Boss!" the fifth thug panted, gripping a rusted iron mace. "The front doors slammed shut. I thought it was a trap."
"It is a trap, you idiot," Brutus sneered, his glowing red gauntlet casting a sinister crimson light over the room. "But he's the one trapped with us. Look at him. The trash noble has finally lost his mind."
Five against one.
Five hardened syndicate enforcers against a teenager who, just yesterday, couldn't lift a broadsword without coughing.
Silas didn't flinch. He didn't take a defensive stance. He merely adjusted his tattered cuffs, his neon-blue eyes locking onto the glowing interface hovering above Brutus's bald head.
[Target: Brutus][Net Worth: 85 Stat Points][Cosmic Debt: 14,200 Karma Points]
"Kill him," Brutus ordered casually, turning back to the silver pocket watch he had looted. "Break his legs first. The boss wants him alive, but he didn't say he had to be able to walk."
Two thugs lunged simultaneously.
The first swung a heavy iron club aimed directly at Silas's kneecap. The second thrust a crude dagger toward his ribs.
They were fast. But Silas's newly acquired fifteen stat points surged through his veins, supercharging his perception. Time seemed to drag.
Silas didn't block. He didn't have a weapon, and his physical body was still mortal.
Instead, he slipped backward, letting the iron club smash into the mahogany floorboards where he had just stood. The dagger missed his ribs by a fraction of an inch, slicing nothing but the damp fabric of his tunic.
[Host evaded hostile transaction. Applying 20% Combat Interest.]
[Target 1 Active Debt: 50 Karma Points.][Target 2 Active Debt: 40 Karma Points.]
"Stand still, you little rat!" the dagger-wielding thug snarled, overextending his thrust.
Silas smiled. A cold, corporate smile. "Interest accrued."
He willed the mana in his core to ignite.
Shadow-Step.
Silas vanished into the dark shadow cast by the thug's own body.
The two thugs stumbled forward, weapons hitting empty air. "Where did he—?!"
Silas materialized directly behind the dagger-wielding thug. He didn't aim a punch. He simply placed his bare hand squarely on the flat of the thug's crude iron dagger.
"System," Silas whispered. "[Foreclose] and [Liquidate]."
[Hostile asset identified. Active Debt exceeds Net Worth. Foreclosure authorized.]
A brilliant flash of silver-white light erupted from Silas's palm.
The iron dagger didn't just break. It rapidly rusted, decayed, and crumbled into a pile of fine gray ash in less than a second.
"What the—my blade!" the thug shrieked, staring at the empty hilt in his hand.
But Silas wasn't finished.
[Asset Liquidated. Converting to raw energy...]
The energy extracted from the weapon surged into Silas's arm. He channeled that exact kinetic force directly into a palm strike, driving it into the base of the disarmed thug's neck.
Crack.
The thug collapsed instantly, his spinal cord shattered by his own liquidated weapon's energy.
[Target Eliminated. Seizing remaining assets...][Strength +1][Agility +1]
One down. Four to go.
"He's using magic!" the second thug yelled, swinging his iron club wildly. "He's a mage!"
"Don't panic, you fools!" Brutus roared, stepping forward. The ruby embedded in his right gauntlet flared, generating a wave of blistering heat. "He's unarmed! Swarm him!"
The remaining three thugs charged together, blocking any avenue of escape.
Silas's eyes darted across the room. He was backing into the dining room, retreating toward the broken window.
Three attackers. No blind spots. I need a broader margin.
Silas triggered Shadow-Step again.
He didn't teleport behind them. He teleported straight up, materializing in the deep, flickering shadow cast by the massive crystal chandelier clinging to the ceiling above them.
Gravity instantly took hold. Silas dropped like a stone, landing squarely on the shoulders of the third thug.
Before the man could scream, Silas grabbed the thick leather armor wrapping the thug's chest.
"[Liquidate]."
[Armor asset seized. Converting...]
The leather instantly turned brittle and disintegrated into dust. Stripped of his defense, the thug was completely exposed. Silas twisted his weight, using the falling momentum to snap the man's neck with his bare hands before rolling gracefully across the floor.
[Target Eliminated. Seizing remaining assets...][Vitality +2]
"Two," Silas counted aloud, his voice devoid of any emotion.
The fourth thug, terrified by the impossible disintegration of his comrade's armor, hesitated. He took a step back, his hands shaking as he held up a short sword.
"Boss... he's turning our gear to dust. What is this?!"
"It's a parlor trick!" Brutus bellowed. He raised his glowing red gauntlet. "Burn to cinders, you little shit!"
A massive torrent of magical flames erupted from the gauntlet, engulfing the entire dining room in blinding fire.
The heat was suffocating. The sheer force of the D-Rank spell threatened to incinerate all the oxygen in the room.
But Silas was already gone.
Shadow-Step.
He materialized in the hallway, right behind the fourth thug who had backed away from the flames.
Silas reached out, tapping the back of the trembling man's knee. A simple, precise strike.
"[Liquidate] vitality."
[Target's Active Debt threshold breached. Seizing physical assets.]
The thug didn't even have time to scream. His leg withered into a mummified husk in a split second. He collapsed, gasping for air as the system drained the remaining life force from his body to pay his cosmic debt.
[Target Eliminated. Seizing remaining assets...][Mana +3]
The flames in the dining room died down, leaving scorched walls and burning carpets.
Brutus stood amidst the smoke, chest heaving, his red gauntlet smoking. He looked around the ruined room.
His four men were dead. Two had their necks snapped. One was missing his armor. The last was a withered husk on the hallway floor.
And Silas Vance, the pathetic, discarded noble, stood completely unharmed in the doorway. He was casually wiping a speck of dust from his sleeve.
"Your men had terrible credit," Silas said softly. "But you... you're the grand prize."
Brutus swallowed hard. The bravado was entirely gone, replaced by primal, suffocating terror.
He raised his gauntlet again, desperately trying to channel mana into the ruby. "Stay back! I'll burn this whole estate down!"
"You can't afford it," Silas stated.
Silas didn't dodge this time. He walked straight toward Brutus.
Brutus screamed, unleashing a concentrated beam of fire directly at Silas's chest.
Silas raised his right hand.
"System. [Audit]."
[Appraising incoming spell...][Asset Origin: D-Rank Fire Gauntlet. Status: Stolen Goods. Original Owner: Vance Estate.][Resolution: Immediate Foreclosure.]
The torrent of fire hit Silas's open palm—and vanished.
It didn't deflect. It didn't disperse. It was simply swallowed, absorbed perfectly into Silas's hand like water sinking into a sponge.
"No..." Brutus whispered, his eyes widening in absolute horror. "That's a D-Rank artifact... how..."
"You stole it from my family's vault," Silas said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, absolute calm. "You tried to kill me with my own property. The interest on that is astronomical."
Silas closed the distance in a single step and clamped his hand tightly around the glowing ruby of Brutus's gauntlet.
"[Liquidate]."
The red gauntlet shrieked. The metal cracked, and the enchanted ruby shattered into a thousand pieces. The magical energy violently reversed course, tearing through Brutus's arm.
Brutus screamed as the gauntlet turned to rust, fusing with his skin before dissolving entirely. His arm fell limp, completely paralyzed.
Silas kicked the back of Brutus's knee.
The massive syndicate leader crashed to the floor, kneeling in the ashes of his own weapon.
Silas stood over him, the neon-blue light of the System reflecting in his cold, calculating eyes. He raised his hand, ready to foreclose on Brutus's life.
"Wait! Wait, please!" Brutus begged, his voice cracking as tears of pain and terror streamed down his scarred face. "Don't kill me! I can pay! I have value!"
"Your net worth is eighty-five points," Silas said coldly. "Your debt is over fourteen thousand. You are mathematically worthless to me."
"No! I have information!" Brutus screamed, holding up his one good hand in a desperate plea. "Information about your family! About your parents!"
Silas's hand paused in mid-air.
The original host's memories twitched. His parents had disappeared in a Class-B dungeon breach three years ago. It was a tragedy that had stripped the Vance family of their standing and forced Silas into the slums.
"Speak," Silas commanded. "And it better be highly profitable."
"They didn't die in a breach!" Brutus sobbed, blood dripping from his lips. "It was a hit! The dungeon collapse was engineered! The debt your family owes... the syndicate... it was all a setup!"
Silas's eyes narrowed. The blue light flared dangerously in the dark room.
"Who?" Silas whispered.
Brutus trembled, looking up at Silas as if looking at a demon clawing out of the abyss.
"It was..."