All Chapters of RISE OF EDEN WEALTH: WEALTH SYSTEM: Chapter 121
- Chapter 130
161 chapters
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TEN: Every Seconds Counts
The ticking wasn’t loud, but Dean could feel it in his chest like a second heartbeat. Every second that passed pressed harder against his ribs, against his mind, against the thin line between control and collapse. He knelt in front of the chair, eyes locked on the wire system, ignoring everything else—the pain in his side, the distant sounds of boots retreating, the faint echoes of gunfire dying out beyond the warehouse walls. Nothing mattered except the mechanism in front of him. It wasn’t just a simple trigger. It was layered. That was the first thing he noticed. Whoever set it up didn’t rely on one fail-safe—they built several. The thin wire connected to a pressure base beneath the chair, but there was also a secondary relay running along the back support, hidden so well it almost blended into the metal frame. Cutting the wrong line wouldn’t just trigger one charge. It would trigger everything. Dean exhaled slowly, steadying his hand as he leaned closer, his fingers hovering just a
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND ELEVEN: Echoes that Follows
The night air hit Dean’s face hard the moment he stepped out of the collapsing warehouse, but it wasn’t relief that followed—it was pressure, heavy and unshaking, like the danger hadn’t ended, only changed shape. The man in his arms coughed weakly, his fingers twitching against Dean’s shirt, and Dean tightened his grip slightly, steady but careful, his eyes scanning the dark surroundings as debris thundered behind him, the sound of metal tearing and concrete crashing swallowing whatever silence the night once had. He didn’t slow down. Not even for a second. Because men like Jonathan didn’t build one trap. They built layers. And if the building falling was the last move, then it meant everything before it was just preparation. “Stay with me,” Dean muttered under his breath, not even sure if the man could hear him, but saying it anyway, grounding himself as much as the stranger. The man tried to respond, but it came out as nothing more than a strained breath, his body barely holding tog
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE: What Silence Hides
The car engine died, but the tension didn’t. It stayed in the air, thick and unmoving, like the world itself was holding its breath. Dean stepped out first, his boots crunching lightly against the gravel as his eyes swept across the structure in front of them. It didn’t look like much at first glance—just a low building tucked behind a wall of trees, lights dim, almost lifeless—but that was exactly what made it dangerous. Places like this weren’t built to be seen. They were built to disappear. “This is your ‘safe point’?” Dean asked without looking back, his voice calm but edged with doubt. The other figure stepped out of the driver’s side, closing the door quietly before moving around the car. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?” they replied simply. “That’s usually a good sign.” Dean didn’t respond to that. His attention had already shifted to the perimeter. Subtle details. A camera tucked high in the corner, almost invisible unless you knew where to look. A faint hum near the wall
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN: What Or Who, Is Worse?
The silence after the man’s words didn’t fade—it deepened, settling into the walls, into the floor, into the people standing in that room like something alive and watching. Dean didn’t move at first. He just stood there, eyes fixed on the unconscious man, replaying those few broken words over and over in his mind. It’s already started… the next phase. It didn’t sound like a warning. It sounded like confirmation. And that was worse. “We’re out of time,” Dean said finally, his voice low but firm, cutting through the weight in the room. The tall man leaned back slightly against the console, arms crossing as his expression tightened. “We were out of time the moment you walked into that warehouse,” he replied. “This just proves it.” Dean turned his head sharply. “Then stop talking like we’ve already lost.” The tension snapped tighter. For a second, it felt like something would break between them, but the figure stepped forward again, calm but commanding. “Enough,” they said. “Arguing doesn
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN: Find The Source
Chapter 114: Breaking the PatternThe countdown didn’t just sit on the screen—it pressed into the room like a weight, every second falling heavier than the last. Fifteen minutes had already become fourteen, then thirteen, the numbers shifting with quiet indifference as if they didn’t understand what they meant. But Dean understood. He stood still for only a moment longer, eyes locked on the screen, then he moved, fast and certain, like hesitation had been cut out of him completely. “Talk to me,” he said sharply, his gaze snapping to the tall man at the console. “Anything. Signal behavior, distortion pattern, lag—whatever you’ve got.” The tall man’s fingers flew across the controls, his expression tightening. “It’s not a fixed stream,” he said quickly. “It’s bouncing. Multiple relay points. Whoever’s sending this is constantly shifting the source.” “So pin the pattern,” Dean replied without missing a beat. “There’s always a rhythm. Even chaos has one.” The figure watched him closely, s
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN: This Choice Shouldn't Exist
The car didn’t slow down until the structure came into full view, rising out of the darkness like a forgotten giant. Rusted metal beams stretched high into the night sky, broken windows staring down like hollow eyes, and the entire place carried that same quiet feeling Dean had come to recognize—not abandoned, not empty… but waiting. The tires skidded slightly as the car came to a sharp stop just outside the perimeter, dust rising in a thick cloud around them. The countdown read just under eight minutes. Dean was already out of the car before the engine fully died, his movements sharp and controlled, his eyes scanning every inch of the building in seconds. “This is it,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. The figure stepped out right after him, closing the door quietly but quickly, their gaze sweeping the area just as fast. “No guards,” they noted. “No movement.” Dean didn’t relax. “That’s not a good sign.” “No,” the figure agreed. “It never is.” A faint wind moved through the
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SIXTEEN: Breaking Control
The hum beneath the floor grew louder, deeper, like the building itself was reacting to every breath, every movement, every decision being made inside it. The countdown dropped again—two minutes and thirty seconds—and the numbers no longer felt like time. They felt like pressure. Crushing, constant pressure. Dean didn’t look at the clock anymore. He didn’t need to. He could feel it. In the way the air tightened. In the way every second seemed sharper than the last. In the way his own heartbeat refused to slow down. He stayed crouched beside the hostage he had just stabilized, but his focus had already shifted elsewhere. Not to the next person. Not to the figure working beside him. But to the system. To the hidden core he had just noticed. His eyes narrowed slightly, tracking it again through the harsh light—the faint wiring running beneath the broken panels, the subtle alignment of the plates, the unnatural symmetry in what was supposed to look like chaos. “You see it too, don’t you?”
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN: When The Sky Falls
The moment Dean saw it—really saw it—everything else faded. The plates beneath his feet, the hum in the floor, even the countdown itself—it all became background noise compared to the truth hanging above them. The structure wasn’t just support. It was loaded. Balanced. Waiting. And whatever it was carrying… wasn’t meant to stay there. “It’s not the floor,” Dean said, his voice low but sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. “It’s the ceiling.” The figure’s eyes followed his line of sight, locking onto the overhead beams and the suspended framework that looked, at first glance, like nothing more than rusted support. But now, with the truth exposed, it was impossible to unsee. “That’s too much weight,” they said quietly. “If that drops…” “It won’t just drop,” Dean cut in. “It’ll collapse the entire structure.” The countdown ticked lower—fifteen seconds—and the room seemed to tighten around them. Jonathan’s voice returned, calm as ever, but now there was something else beneath i
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN: Silentium Post Victoriam
For a few seconds, no one moved. Not Dean. Not the figure beside him. Not even the hostages scattered across the floor. It was like the entire building had forgotten how to breathe. The hum was gone. The countdown had hit zero—and nothing followed. No collapse. No explosion. Just silence. Heavy, deep, and almost unreal. Dean stood still, his chest rising slowly as he listened. Not for noise—but for change. Because with Jonathan, silence was never empty. It always meant something. “Is it… over?” one of the hostages whispered weakly, their voice trembling as they struggled to lift their head. Dean’s eyes dropped to them, his expression steady but not soft. “No,” he said quietly. “But you’re still alive.” That mattered. Right now, that was everything. The figure beside him let out a slow breath, their shoulders relaxing just slightly as they looked around. “The plates are inactive,” they said. “No feedback. No response.” Dean nodded once. “The system’s dead.” A pause. “…For now.” The wor
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN: Protocols To Follow
Chapter 119: The Collapse ProtocolThe moment Dean started running, the building answered like a wounded beast finally lashing out. The crack from before didn’t stop—it spread. It crawled through the walls, across the ceiling, down into the floors, multiplying into a chorus of sharp, splitting sounds that echoed like distant gunfire. Dust burst into the air in thick clouds, turning the once-clear path into a choking haze. Dean didn’t slow down. He couldn’t. “Move… move…” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else, his boots hitting the ground in fast, controlled strides. Behind him, the hum had changed again. It wasn’t steady anymore. It pulsed. Like a heartbeat. Like something alive. Another section of the wall ahead suddenly buckled inward with a loud crash, blocking half the corridor. Dean skidded slightly but adjusted instantly, veering to the side without breaking momentum. His eyes scanned everything at once—the shifting debris, the unstable ceiling, the narr