INFINITY MONEY SYSTEM: Buying My Way to the Watchers' Legion

CHAPTER 5

 

The alley remained frozen in tense silence, every Santoro warrior's eyes locked on the mountain of High-Explosion Scrolls piled at Marco's feet. Sweat glistened on faces that had been confident moments before. Hands that had gripped weapons with arrogant certainty now trembled with genuine fear.

Dominic's jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground audibly. His pride warred with survival instinct, and the internal battle played across his features like a storm. Finally, he spat on the cobblestones. "Fine! We're leaving. But this isn't over, you worthless—"

"No," Marco said simply.

The single word cut through the night like a blade.

Dominic's head snapped up. "What?"

"You came here to rob us, to threaten Lady Isabella's life, to take what belongs to me." Marco's voice remained perfectly calm, almost conversational. "Did you really think I'd let garbage like you just walk away after showing such disrespect?"

"You dare—" Dominic started.

Marco's hand touched the activation rune on the topmost scroll.

Brilliant red light exploded outward as the scroll ignited. The rune formations blazed to life, and a deafening crack split the air. A bolt of pure destructive energy—condensed lightning wrapped in explosive force—shot forward like a spear from the heavens.

It struck the nearest Santoro warrior dead center.

The man's enchanted armor, worth thousands of gold coins, shattered like glass. The impact lifted him off his feet and slammed him into the alley wall with bone-breaking force. He crumpled to the ground, his chest smoking, his screams piercing the night as his expensive defensive enchantments sparked and died uselessly.

"SCATTER!" Dominic roared.

Too late.

Marco's hands moved in a blur, touching three scrolls simultaneously. Triple activation. The alley exploded into brilliant chaos as three separate bolts of destruction tore through the formation of warriors.

One warrior tried to raise a defensive barrier. The explosion punched through it like paper, the shockwave spinning him like a ragdoll before he crashed through a wooden cart. Splinters and blood erupted everywhere.

Another attempted to dodge, his Novice Rank speed making him blur. The lightning changed trajectory mid-flight, tracking him like a predator. It caught him mid-leap, and his agonized scream cut off abruptly as he fell twitching to the ground, smoke rising from his charred armor.

A third warrior managed to partially deflect the blast with an expensive defensive talisman. The talisman disintegrated, but it bought him a fraction of a second. The residual explosion still caught his leg, and the sickening crunch of shattering bone echoed through the alley. He collapsed, clutching his mangled limb, tears streaming down his face.

"Please! Stop! We surrender!" someone screamed.

Marco touched five scrolls at once.

The world became fire and thunder. Five simultaneous explosions merged into a catastrophic shockwave that shook the entire alley. Cobblestones cracked and flew like shrapnel. Windows in nearby buildings exploded. The very air ignited.

Warriors who'd been elite killers moments before were flung like leaves in a hurricane. Armor crumpled. Bones snapped. Blood painted the walls. Their screams merged into a chorus of agony that echoed through the night—proud young masters reduced to broken, bleeding wrecks begging for mercy.

"STOP! PLEASE! WE'LL LEAVE! WE'LL NEVER—"

Marco activated ten scrolls simultaneously.

The explosion was biblical. A pillar of destruction erupted skyward, visible across half the city. The shockwave blasted outward in all directions, leveling everything in its path. Warriors were thrown like ragdolls, their bodies tumbling, crashing, breaking. Those who'd already been wounded were hit again, screaming as secondary injuries compounded the first.

When the smoke cleared, twelve of Dominic's eighteen warriors lay scattered across the alley—unconscious, bleeding, or crying in pain. Enchanted armor lay in smoking ruins. Expensive weapons were bent and shattered. The mighty force that had come to rob and intimidate now looked like the aftermath of a natural disaster.

Isabella stood beside Marco, completely untouched behind her effortless defensive barrier. Her ice-blue eyes were wide, not with fear, but with genuine surprise. "You actually..." She looked at the devastation, then at Marco. "You're completely insane."

Dominic stood at the alley's far end, protected by his strongest personal shield. His face was purple with rage and humiliation. Blood trickled from one corner of his mouth where he'd bitten his lip. His hands shook—not with fear anymore, but with pure, murderous fury.

"You... you DARE?!" His voice cracked with emotion. "Do you have ANY idea what you've done? These are elite Santoro warriors! Sons of nobles! My family will—"

"Will what?" Marco interrupted calmly. "Send more trash for me to break?"

Dominic's eyes blazed with hatred so intense it seemed to physically manifest. "I was going to let you live, you worthless cockroach! But now—" He reached into his coat and withdrew a scroll unlike any other.

The moment it appeared, the temperature spiked dramatically. The scroll was massive, covered in ancient crimson runes that pulsed like a beating heart. Just looking at it made the air shimmer with heat.

Isabella's expression changed instantly. "That's... a Tier-3 Forbidden Scroll!" Her voice actually held a note of concern. "Dominic, you fool! Using that in the city—"

"I don't care!" Dominic screamed, his composure completely shattered. "I'll kill him! I'll burn him to ash! I'll—" He activated the scroll.

Reality tore open.

A massive summoning circle blazed into existence above the alley, easily fifty feet in diameter. Molten energy poured from it like a waterfall of liquid fire. The temperature soared so high that nearby wooden structures began spontaneously combusting. And from that burning portal, something emerged.

The Magma Giant was a nightmare made manifest—fifteen feet of living volcanic rock and molten stone. Its body glowed orange-red with internal heat, cracks in its surface revealing flowing lava beneath. Each footstep left molten prints that ignited the cobblestones. Its eyes burned like twin suns, and when it roared, the sound was like a volcano erupting.

The few conscious Santoro warriors scrambled away in terror. Even Dominic took an involuntary step back from his own summon.

"That's... Adept Rank," Isabella said quietly, her hand moving to her weapon. "Even I would struggle against—"

Marco pulled out another High-Explosion Scroll and threw it.

The explosion struck the Magma Giant's chest and detonated in a brilliant flash. When the smoke cleared, the creature stood completely unharmed. The attack hadn't even scratched its molten surface.

Dominic's manic laughter echoed through the alley. "See?! Your pathetic scrolls are worthless against true power, you insignificant insect! That creature could slaughter a hundred Novice Ranks! Your money can't—"

Marco reached into his coat.

And pulled out a storage ring.

He activated it, and the air above him shimmered. Then reality seemed to break as thousands upon thousands of High-Explosion Scrolls materialized in neat, floating rows—a sea of destruction that filled the sky above the alley like stars.

The laughter died in Dominic's throat.

Isabella's eyes went impossibly wide. "That's... how many..."

"Five thousand," Marco said calmly. "I had them prepared for fortress defense, but this seems like an appropriate use."

"Five... thousand..." Isabella stared at him like he was an alien being. "The national treasury of a small kingdom couldn't afford—how do you even—"

"Lady Isabella," Marco turned to her, his expression still perfectly composed. "Would you assist me? I believe a coordinated strike would be most efficient."

For perhaps the first time in her life, Isabella Moretti found herself following someone else's lead. Her hands moved almost automatically, drawing out her own combat scrolls—expensive B-rank attacks she'd been saving for emergencies.

Together, they moved.

Marco's hand swept forward, and two hundred High-Explosion Scrolls activated simultaneously. Isabella's scrolls joined the assault—lightning, ice, and force blasts merging with the explosive barrage. The combined attack was apocalyptic.

The sky itself seemed to crack. Thunder merged into a continuous roar that shook buildings for blocks. Lightning bolts thick as tree trunks hammered down like divine punishment. Explosions bloomed in rapid succession, each one feeding into the next, creating a cascade of destruction that turned night into day.

The Magma Giant raised its arms to defend itself. The first wave of attacks struck like a meteor shower. Its molten surface cracked. The second wave hit harder, and chunks of volcanic rock exploded outward. The third wave made the creature stagger, its roar now containing a note of pain.

"Impossible!" Dominic screamed over the thunder. "It's Adept Rank! It should be—"

Marco activated another hundred scrolls.

The battlefield became a vision of the apocalypse. Lightning merged into continuous streams of destruction. The heat was so intense that metal melted. The shockwaves shattered every window within three blocks. The Magma Giant's body fractured like breaking glass, molten blood spraying in all directions.

And Marco still had thousands of scrolls remaining.

The rear exit of the Manhattan Grand Auction House opened onto a cobblestone alley illuminated by enchanted street lamps. Cool night air carried the scent of rain. Marco, Isabella, and Envoy Marcus emerged, followed by attendants pushing carts laden with secured crates.

They'd barely taken ten steps when shadows detached from the surrounding buildings.

Fifteen figures in dark combat gear materialized, forming a semicircle that blocked their path. Each radiated the unmistakable aura of Novice Rank awakeners—powerful enough to slaughter normal humans like cattle. Their weapons gleamed with enchantments, and hostile intent rolled off them in waves.

"Handle the periphery," Isabella commanded without looking at Envoy Marcus.

"Understood!" Marcus vanished in a blur of movement, engaging the hidden scouts attempting to flank them from rooftops and side streets. The sound of combat erupted immediately—metal clashing, magical explosions, screams of pain.

The main group remained, and their circle parted like a curtain.

Dominic Santoro strode through, his blood-red cape billowing dramatically. His handsome features were twisted into an expression of sadistic anticipation. Behind him, three more Novice Rank warriors stood ready, their combined power making the air itself feel heavy and oppressive.

"Well, well," Dominic drawled, his voice dripping with venom. "The Moretti princess and her pet beggar. How delightful." His eyes locked onto the treasure carts. "I'll make this simple, Isabella. Hand over everything you purchased tonight, and I might let you crawl away with your pathetic lives intact."

Isabella's expression remained perfectly cold, utterly unmoved. "You dare threaten me, Santoro trash? Your entire family combined couldn't produce even half the wealth my companion just spent. Know your place beneath superior beings."

Dominic's face flushed crimson. "You arrogant bitch! You think your family name protects you here? In this alley, with no witnesses?" He gestured, and his warriors began advancing. "I have eighteen Novice Rank awakeners. You're alone except for that worthless mentor and this unawakened cockroach." He jabbed a finger toward Marco. "I'll kill the garbage first, make you watch him bleed, then—"

"Enough," Isabella interrupted, her voice ice. She didn't even bother drawing a weapon. "If you want to die tonight, Dominic, I'll happily oblige. Though killing you would be like stepping on an insect—messy and beneath my dignity."

Despite her dismissive words, Dominic's warriors continued their advance, magical energy building around their weapons. They spread out in a practiced formation, cutting off all escape routes. The alley walls themselves seemed to close in, trapping their prey.

"Last chance," Dominic snarled. "Surrender the—"

Marco stepped forward.

The movement was so unexpected that everyone froze. Isabella's head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing with irritation. "Stay back, you fool. This isn't—"

"Actually," Marco said calmly, his voice cutting through the tension, "I believe this concerns my property. Allow me to handle it."

Dominic's warriors burst into mocking laughter.

"Handle it? You can't even awaken mana, you worthless piece of dirt!"

"He's going to 'handle' eighteen Novice Rank awakeners? This trash actually thinks—"

"Shut up," Dominic commanded, though his own expression showed cruel amusement. "Let the cockroach speak. I want to hear what delusion passes for bravery in his feeble mind."

Marco reached into his coat slowly, his movements deliberate. "I may not have combat ability," he admitted, "but I do have resources."

He withdrew a single scroll. It was compact, covered in intricate red runes that pulsed with barely contained energy. The moment it appeared, several of Dominic's warriors tensed, recognizing the design.

"A High-Explosion Scroll," one warrior muttered nervously.

Dominic sneered. "So what? Those scrolls are C-rank at best. They might hurt a normal person, but against Novice Rank awakeners with defensive enchantments?" He laughed mockingly. "You'd need dozens to even slow us down, you stupid—"

Marco reached into his coat again.

And pulled out another scroll.

Then another.

And another.

His hands moved in a blur, and suddenly scrolls cascaded from his coat like an avalanche. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred. They piled at his feet in an ever-growing mountain of explosive potential, each one covered in those same deadly red runes.

The laughter died instantly.

Eyes widened in horror as the pile continued growing. One hundred fifty. Two hundred. Marco kept pulling them out with the same calm indifference someone might show sorting papers.

"What the hell..." one warrior whispered, his voice cracking.

"That's... that's impossible..." another breathed.

Isabella stared, her perfect composure finally breaking into genuine shock. "How many did you—"

"Three hundred High-Explosion Scrolls," Marco stated calmly, placing the final one atop the massive pile. "Each one capable of C-rank destructive output individually." He looked up at Dominic's ashen face. "But when detonated simultaneously in an enclosed space like this alley, the combined force would rival an Elite Rank attack."

The temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. Every single warrior took an involuntary step backward, their bravado evaporating like morning mist.

Dominic's face had gone from red to white to an almost greenish hue. His hands trembled. "You... you're bluffing. You wouldn't dare. The explosion would kill you too, you insane—"

"Would it?" Marco's voice remained perfectly calm, almost conversational. "I'm standing right next to Lady Isabella, who possesses A-rank defensive capabilities. She could easily shield herself and me from the blast." He smiled slightly. "Can you and your men say the same?"

The advancing warriors froze completely, terror replacing confidence in their expressions. Several were already backing away slowly, their survival instincts overriding loyalty.

"At this distance," Marco continued clinically, "with this quantity, even Novice Rank defensive enchantments would fail. The shockwave alone would pulverize organs. The heat would melt flesh from bone. And the magical backlash would shred your mana cores into—"

"STOP!" Dominic shouted, his voice cracking with barely suppressed panic. Sweat poured down his face despite the cool night air. His eyes darted between Marco, the mountain of scrolls, and his own terrified warriors. "You wouldn't... no one's that crazy..."

Marco's hand moved toward the activation trigger on the nearest scroll.

Every single warrior stumbled backward in terror, their weapons forgotten. Two actually dropped to their knees, hands raised in surrender.

The confident hunters had become cornered prey, frozen in absolute terror before a mountain of potential destruction that could erase them all from existence.