A few hours later, the desert night was a paradox—biting cold air above and sand that still held the lingering heat of a brutal sun. The "Mobile Shop" sat like a massive wooden mountain in the middle of the dunes, its brass fittings gleaming under the starlight. We were still a day’s journey from the border, but the logistics of moving a building on six horses meant we were in for a long, quiet night."Slow and steady wins the race, but it doesn't half make you hungry," I muttered, pulling out my phone.I scrolled through the [INSTANT-FOOD] tab of the System. I didn't want to tap into our fresh supplies yet; we needed those for the "Siren's Call" tomorrow. Instead, I went for the classics.I burned 10,000 VP in a single tap. It felt like a lot, but seeing the crates manifest in the sand was worth every point.Nissin Cup Noodles: 500 units (The "Seafood" and "Spicy Curry" varieties).MOK (Meal of Kitchen) Premium Meals: For the leaders.Sugar Juice Sachets: Thousands of them, high-gl

The sun was at its zenith, a merciless white hammer beating down on the jagged obsidian walls of the Gothic Capital. But the heat wasn't the problem for the few loyalists left on the ramparts, it was the silence. The rhythmic clank-clank of armored patrols had been replaced by the distant, muffled sound of chewing and the occasional satisfied "Ahhh!" of a man discovering electrolytes for the first time.The Great Gothic Gate, a massive slab of iron-reinforced soul-oak that had stood shut against famines, plagues, and ancient wars, was now completely unattended. The guards hadn't been killed; they were simply two hundred yards away, sitting in white plastic chairs and arguing over whether the "Seafood" or "Spicy Curry" Nissin noodles had the better mouthfeel.The last remaining gatekeeper—a man who had survived three dragon-wars, looked at his empty post, then at the horizon. He could see Shannon holding up a "Limited Edition" translucent blue cup, the ice cubes clinking like frozen

"The gates are open, the hostages are eating donuts, and your army has officially resigned," I said, leaning back on the Celestial seat. "Commander Draco, your 'Protectorate' is currently in a state of 'Negative Equity.' I’m here to collect the keys."Draco’s eyes weren't just glowing; they were leaking liquid gold. The lightning above us intensified, the air growing so heavy with mana it felt like being underwater."YOU... YOU INSOLENT TRADESMAN!" Draco shrieked, his body beginning to swell, his scales turning into jagged plates of obsidian armor. "YOU THINK YOU CAN EVICT A GOD?""God? No," I sassed, reaching into my jacket and pulling out a "Relic-Grade" chocolate chip cookie. "I'm evicting a tenant who's three weeks behind on his 'Being-a-Decent-Leader' payments. And I brought the heavy-duty cleaning crew."Then…Draco didn't just transform; he underwent a biological meltdown.The air in the throne room turned into a pressurized vacuum of black mana. His human skin didn't shift; it

The throne room was transitioning from "Battlefield" to "Grand Opening" at a speed that only System-grade logistics could manage. The smell of ozone and sulfur was being aggressively outcompeted by the aroma of toasted brioche and flame-grilled wagyu.I was slumped in Draco’s former throne, or rather the Gothic King’s former throne, which, honestly, was a bit too cold and pointy for my taste, holding a double-bacon Victory Burger that Mistress Helga had prepared with "Relic-Grade" aged cheddar."It’th time," I declared, my voice echoing off the scorched rafters. "The firtht bite of the New Era."I lifted the burger. My brain said Chomp, but my upper lip, which had now reached the size and consistency of a ripe mango, said No Access.I tilted my head 45 degrees to the left. I tried to slide the burger in through the "Southern Entrance" of my mouth.Squish.The top bun hit the swelling. A glob of "System-Secret Sauce" smeared directly onto my nose. I didn't even feel it."Master," Elsa

But then the third head turned toward me. The white moon-eyes locked onto mine. I felt it—a cold, heavy weight starting at my toes and racing up my shins. My heart slowed, turning into a literal rock in my chest. I tried to reach for my phone, for the System, for a "Relic-Grade" escape, but my fingers were already grey, stiff, and lifeless.The last thing I saw was the dragon’s three mouths opening in a silent, mocking laugh before the world shattered into darkness.I bolted upright in the massive bed, my chest heaving, the silk sheets tangled around my legs like white snakes. The morning sun was streaming through the high Gothic windows, hitting the gold leaf on the ceiling, but I was shivering as if I’d been dunked in an ice bath."Huff... huff... just a dream," I whispered, rubbing my face. "Jutht a weird, Netflix-induced hallucination."But then the pain hit.THROB.My upper lip didn't just hurt; it was electrified. I reached up to touch it, expecting the swelling to be gone aft