[Netherworld Headquarters · Cross-Realm Operations Center (Formerly King Yan's Palace)]

  This was no longer the ruin whose front door had been kicked in. Although the two massive Black Iron gates still lay awkwardly by the roadside (rumor had it King Yan decided to keep them as a monument to "National Humiliation"), the interior had been completely revitalized.

  Countless golden runes and lines of code wove into light ribbons under the ancient dome cast from Ten-Thousand-Year Black Iron, transforming this solemn ancient palace into a cutting-edge data center.

  In the center of the hall, a high-level summary meeting on "Business Expansion and Risk Assessment" was underway.

  The atmosphere was... subtle.

  King Qinguang, the head of the Ten Kings of Hell, sat behind his desk holding a copy of Introduction to Netherworld Economics (Revised Edition), his brow furrowed.

  "Minister Singularity, was this move of yours... not a little too risky?"

  King Yan pointed at the holographic projection of the still-smoking ruins of New Babylon.

  "For an E-Class probationary agent, we not only authorized 'Cross-Realm Physical Teleportation' but also invited Lord Guan down there. If the Celestial Audit Bureau finds out, will I still be able to keep this hat on my head?"

  Below the dais, Judge Cui adjusted his glasses, which were as thick as beer bottle bottoms, while holding the Book of Life and Death (now renamed the Big Data Terminal).

  "Your Majesty, I second the motion. According to big data analysis, this operation consumed 30% of the Netherworld's energy reserves. Furthermore, Lord Guan's strike was too severe; it severed the causal laws of that world. The Book of Life and Death over there is now riddled with garbled code, and I can barely keep up with the repairs."

  Daoist Singularity sat further down, legs crossed, still holding half a shattered teacup (blown up by Tesla last time). Facing the questioning of two big shots, he didn't panic. Instead, he leisurely blew on the tea foam.

  "Leaders, you must take the long view."

  Singularity stood up, walked to the holographic map, and tapped it, enlarging the image of New Babylon.

  "Please look. That world, under the rule of the Necromancy Guild, is rapidly heading towards 'Heat Death'."

  "Humans are stripped of hope and turned into walking dead. They have no dreams, no resistance, not even emotions. What does this mean for us in the Netherworld?"

  Singularity looked around, raising his voice.

  "It means the disappearance of 'Demand'!"

  "A numb soul produces no 'Wish Power'. They won't pray, they won't repent, and they won't desire salvation. If the Necromancy Guild continues like this, the Merit production of that world will drop to zero! Our business will be cut off!"

  "Therefore, we must fight."

  Singularity slammed his fist onto the map, nearly knocking the tablet out of Judge Cui's hand.

  "This battle wasn't to save that silly kid; it was to 'activate' that world. Only by showing them miracles, showing them the possibility of resistance, will they regenerate desire, fear, and hope. And these... are the Netherworld's biggest source of revenue."

  King Yan listened, stroking his beard. "That makes sense... but the cost..."

  "Cost is cost."

  Stolen story; please report.

  The Accountant (an old man who looked like an abacus spirit), who had been silent, coldly interjected.

  "While the logic passes, the accounts cannot be messy. The previous 380.000 principal can be waived as 'Marketing Expenses,' but the cost of summoning the Martial Saint this time..."

  A long bill floated in front of Singularity.

  Guan Yu Physical Teleportation Fee: 500.000

  Green Dragon Crescent Blade Materialization Fee: 300.000

  Red Hare Fodder Fee (Immortal Grass): 50.000

  Key Item: Millennial Wish Power Conversion Fee (To counter rule suppression): 1.150.000

  [Total: 2.000.000 Merit Points (Debt)]

  "Two million." The Accountant flicked an abacus bead. "Plus interest. This amount must be borne by the agent. Otherwise, I have the authority to initiate forced execution procedures and drag him down to fill that pit in the 18th Layer of Hell that just collapsed."

  Singularity looked at the number, his eye twitching.

  "Fine. He... he can take the blame. Young people need a little pressure to be motivated, right?"

  [The 13th Street, Ruins Square]

  John Doe woke up to a smell of food.

  He opened his eyes and found himself lying on a makeshift bed made of door planks. Overhead was a tattered tarp, barely blocking the glaring sunlight.

  "Awake?"

  A familiar voice came.

  John turned his head and saw Bone.

  The guy looked absolutely wretched. His body was pieced together from all sorts of junk: his left leg was a rusty steel pipe, his right arm a section of exhaust pipe, his ribs bound with iron wire. Most ridiculously, many of his joints were covered in white Super Glue, emitting a pungent smell.

  But he held a bowl in his hand. Though his hand (with only three finger bones left) was shaking, the soup in the bowl was steady.

  "Boss, drink some. Mom made it."

  John took the bowl. The soup was cold, with a layer of oil floating on top. But in this moment, this bowl of cold soup was more tempting than any nectar.

  He drank it all in one go, feeling warmth flow down his throat into his stomach. The dying weakness finally receded a bit.

  "Where's Mom?" John asked.

  "Over there, changing dressings for the wounded." Bone pointed not far away.

  John propped himself up. He saw Margaret, saw Grace (her wristband charging), and saw the neighbors who, though bandaged, wore smiles of survival.

  They had lost their houses, their property, even their loved ones.

  But they were still smiling.

  Because they had survived. And they had survived standing up.

  "Is this what you wanted?"

  Daoist Singularity's voice suddenly rang in his mind.

  John took out the iPad. The screen displayed the massive IOU of two million, along with Singularity's message.

  [Congratulations. The previous debt is waived. But because you hired Lord Guan, you now owe me two million. Interest as usual.]

  John looked at the number but didn't scream or break down like before.

  He just stared at it, his gaze a bit unfocused.

  "Two million..."

  John patted Bone's round skull, then looked at his mother busy in the distance.

  His brain began to spin fast, like solving an extremely difficult math problem.

  If he followed the previous earning speed—livestream sales plus odd jobs—he could earn about 5.000 Merit a day.

  2.000.000 ÷ 5.000 = 400 Days.

  This didn't even count interest. With compound interest, he would need... a lifetime.

  "A lifetime of paying debts."

  John murmured softly.

  But that wasn't the scariest part. The scariest part was that this debt was incurred just to "live."

  To avoid being killed by the Guild, he borrowed this money to hire Guan Yu.

  Guan Yu left, but the Guild remained.

  Next time the Guild came, he'd have to borrow again.

  Borrow more money, hire stronger gods, and owe more debt.

  This was a perfect Dead Loop.

  "It's like being on a treadmill," John smiled bitterly. "The faster I run, the faster the damn belt spins. But I stay in the same place forever."

  He thought of Moriarty.

  That man sitting in the clouds, watching him struggle below like watching a monkey show.

  Moriarty created the crisis (wolf), forced John to borrow (buy a gun), and then watched John take on huge debt. Even if he survived, he just became a higher-level slave.

  "If I don't break this loop..."

  John stood up, walked to the edge of the ruins, and gazed at the Necromancy Guild tower still piercing the clouds in the distance.

  "I will forever be a 'slave living to pay debts'."

  "Whether working for the Guild or the Netherworld, there's essentially no difference."

  "The only difference is, the Netherworld has some shame, while the Guild..."

  John gripped the iPad, his knuckles white.

  "The Guild wants not just money, but my life."

  "So, just paying back money is useless."

  John's eyes gradually became clear, revealing a cold, piercing light.

  "I have to take out the person... who makes the wolves."

  "Only by toppling that tower, by dragging down the person who makes the rules, can this dead loop... be untied."

  On the other side of the screen, Daoist Singularity had just finished the meeting and was about to log off to rest. Hearing John's inner voice, he paused.

  He took off the sunglasses that were half-broken, a gratified smile curling his lips.

  "This kid..."

  "He didn't come to the meeting, but his enlightenment... is even more thorough than those gods."

  "He gets it."

  Singularity waved his hand, cutting the connection.

  "Since you get it, then... prepare to Havoc in Heaven."

  [Message from Singularity]

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