Thr... Three million?!


Lucas stared at the text. His first instinct? Scam. Definitely a scam.


But then logic kicked in. The message displayed his Warrior Bank account number—the official one. He glanced around the classroom. The other students had finally stopped gawking at him after the earlier commotion, so he stealthily slid his Warrior's License out of his backpack.


He compared the numbers. It was a perfect match. When he'd signed up with Thomas at the guild, he'd linked his phone number. He hadn't realized it was for direct deposit notifications.


Another text popped up, this one from Gordon: "Sold the Bat King corpse for you. 3 mil total. Wired."


Lucas stopped breathing for a second.


It was real. Three million bucks.


His hands started to shake under the desk. Even combining his previous life with this one, he'd never seen that many zeros in a bank account.


Chill, man, he told himself. Deep breaths. If I keep getting stronger and hit the Dimensional Rifts to hunt bigger Xenobeasts, this is just pocket change.


Calming down, Lucas started running the Art of Cultivation. His optimized version of the technique was way better than the standard issue; he could channel energy even while sitting in a jagged plastic school chair. It was slower than full meditation, but it worked.


He ignored the math lecture. He already knew the material cold, so he just needed a quick review before the Grand Selection. The math teacher noticed Lucas sitting ramrod straight with his eyes closed but didn't say a word. He looked like he wanted to yell at Lucas for sleeping, but then remembered who he was dealing with and just shook his head.


When third period finally ended, Tom rushed over to Lucas's desk, breathless.


"Lucas! Dude! Did you hear? Zack and Derek Ray... they transferred!"


Lucas snapped out of his cultivation trance. "Transferred? Seriously?"


Tom nodded vigorously. "Just heard about it."


"No way," a student nearby whispered. "Are they really gone?"


"Saw that coming a mile away," Wayne chimed in. He leaned back in his chair, nursing a bottle of Mountain Dew like a connoisseur of fine wines. "Zack and Derek are all about 'face.' You beat the snot out of both of them. Their egos couldn't handle showing up to class after that."


"Just because of that?" Tom asked, confused.


"You don't understand the complex inner lives of rich kids," Wayne said, taking a swig of soda and looking satisfied with his own wisdom.


Tom looked like he wanted to argue but couldn't find the words. Zack and Derek did come from serious money, after all.


"Well, Lucas," Tom said, looking at his friend with wide eyes. "You're officially the senior class celebrity. Give it a week, and the juniors and sophomores will know your name, too."


Tom's voice was heavy. Before, there might have been a little jealousy, but now? It was pure, unadulterated envy.


Envy from Tom: Credits +5, +5, +5...


Whoa, Lucas thought. Thirty credits just like that?


He decided to lean into it.


"Man," Lucas sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "Being this strong isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's a burden, really."


The classmates within earshot widened their eyes, staring at him in disbelief.


The audacity of this guy...


Shock from Dean Jones: Credits +10.


Shock from Zara Snow: Credits +10.


The System notifications chimed in Lucas's brain like a slot machine hitting the jackpot.


Hey, don't blame me, Lucas thought. The System made me do it. I need the credits.


By noon, Lucas was back in the gym. But he was done with the basics. It was time to work on arm strength.


Right now, priority number one was bulking up his arms. If he didn't, his Sky Halberd would remain nothing more than a glorified paperweight; he couldn't even lift the thing properly yet.


The most effective way to gain that strength was to use Origin Force to temper his arm muscles. The catch? He'd already done a localized tempering once. If he wanted to go for round two on his arms, he had to finish tempering the rest of his body first. If he tried to skip steps, he'd likely blow out a muscle or worse.


Lucas spent the afternoon ignoring his teachers, choosing to meditate and cultivate right at his desk. Ever since he'd taken that Spirit Enhancing Pill, his brain was operating on overdrive. High school calculus and literature felt like toddler puzzles now. The problem was the classroom environment—the efficiency was garbage.


If only he could train in The Rift...


Just thinking about the density of Origin Force in that other dimension made his eyes gleam with hunger.


When he got home, the house was empty. His parents were still at work, and his sister, Luna, hadn't returned yet. Lucas beelined for the study and fired up the computer.


He typed in the URL. A sleek, imposing webpage loaded up, stamped with three heavy words: The Warrior's Guild.


He clicked the login button. A prompt appeared asking for credentials. Lucas didn't hesitate. He punched in his ID number and the password from his shiny new Warrior's License.


Login Successful.


"Welcome to The Warrior's Guild. Would you like to change your initial password?"


Lucas thought about it for a second, then updated it to something secure. The screen flashed, taking him to what looked like an exclusive forum.


His eyes lit up. It was true. The Warrior's Guild intranet had everything—intel you'd never find on the public web, and more importantly, the Official Warrior Marketplace.


He clicked into the shop. It was a candy store for lethality. Combat Art Cards, tactical suits, weapons, raw monster materials...


"Diamond Skill Card... ten billion credits!?"


Lucas nearly choked. There was a top-tier Combat Art listed—a Diamond-rank card—but the price tag was offensive. The string of zeros made him dizzy.


He scrolled through the weapons. They were categorized into nine grades, though the shop only stocked up to Grade 6. Even a basic Grade 1 weapon cost ten or twenty thousand. The Grade 6 swords? They started at ten billion.


"Who the hell can afford this?" Lucas muttered.