2026-07-05 03:00:02Kaelen Drago’s grip on Aster’s wrist felt like cold iron fresh from a polar ice bath. The protagonist’s fingers trembled violently—not from weakness, but from the weight of emotions seemingly pent up for centuries.
Aster stared at Kaelen, eyes wide. His heart raced with adrenaline as he scrambled to process this absurd situation. Why did the novel’s protagonist just emerge from the shadows to grab my wrist? Does he know I just embarrassed Valerius? Wait, what did he just say? The World’s Law is going to kill me?
“Let go, Lord Drago,” Aster whispered, trying to pull his hand away without triggering an explosion of mana from Kaelen’s unstable core. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. This is just an ugly rock that fell from Mr. Clydes’ hand. I was just picking it up so no one would trip over it.”
“Don’t lie to me!” Kaelen’s voice was raspy, his rubyred eyes radiating a terrifying sense of desperation. “I have watched you die one hundred and fortyseven times, Aster! Every time I try to change your fate, this world corrects it in an even crueler way! That rock... it is a causality anchor for Valerius. If you take it tonight, before the time is right, the World’s Law won’t just send a monster to kill you. It will erase your very existence from space and time!”
Aster swallowed hard. His brain spun. One hundred and fortyseven times? A time loop?! Kaelen Drago is a regressor?!
No wonder Kaelen’s gaze in the cafeteria was so full of grief. No wonder he knew about Vespera’s debt. But this realization didn’t change the fact that Aster needed that stone. If he didn’t take it, he would be slaughtered by the Abyss Wave in Chapter 50. Between being erased by the World’s Law now or eaten by a monster later, Aster preferred to try and outsmart the system.
“Lord Drago, I truly appreciate your concern,” Aster said with a forced, polite tone, “but I really need this stone to prop open my dorm door. It’s always creaking.”
Kaelen stared at Aster as if he had just declared an intent to slap the Creator God. “You... you want to use the Earth Dragon’s Heart Scale as a doorstop?! Have you lost your mind?!”
Before Kaelen could continue his protest, the air inside the black market suddenly shifted.
The temperature, previously humid and stuffy, plummeted below freezing. Thick white steam billowed from Aster and Kaelen’s breaths. The chaotic noise of the black market, once filled with laughter and hushed deals, vanished entirely. Aster looked around and found that hundreds of merchants, buyers, and even Valerius—who was still crying on the floor—were frozen in place. Time itself seemed to have stopped.
Only Aster and Kaelen could still move.
Krak... Krekk...
A deafening cracking sound erupted from the black market’s ceiling, which was made of solid granite. Aster looked up, the blood draining from his face.
The cave ceiling was no longer stone. The surface had transformed into a slowspinning, golden geometric vortex. In the center of the vortex, hundreds of lidless “eyes” formed of pure mana light stared directly at Aster. The gaze was emotionless, devoid of anger. It was the look of a programmer staring at a bug or a virus in their source code, ready to hit ‘Delete.’
[Critical Warning: World’s Law has detected HighLevel Fate Theft.]
[Entity ‘Aster Vale’ is attempting to modify the Causality Anchor of Valerius Clydes.]
[Causality Execution Protocol Activated: Erasure Tribulation.]
“I won’t let you die for the 148th time!” Kaelen shouted. Bloodred mana erupted from his body, shattering the timefreeze around him. He drew his greatsword, stepped forward, and stood directly in front of Aster, ready to throw his own body into the World’s Law’s strike to protect the extra.
Aster panicked. This protagonist is going to commit suicide?! If he dies here, who will save the world in Chapter 50?!
Without a second thought, Aster reached into his backpack. He had no weapons. He had no shields. All he had was a pile of junk he’d scavenged that afternoon because he was worried about the underground black market leaking sewage water.
He pulled out a folding umbrella.
Its frame was made of the ribs of a young Wyvern he’d found in the academy’s kitchen trash, and the canopy was stitched together from a patchfilled tarp that had once covered an oxcart. The thing looked pathetic, bent in several places, and smelled faintly fishy.
I just need cover from the falling rocks! Aster thought, pressing the umbrella’s open button.
Kla-klik.
The system in his head shrieked with blinding blue light.
[Item: Wyvern Rib Folding Umbrella (Quality: F)]
[Error: Materials unable to withstand atmospheric pressure.]
[Absolute Compensation Injected.]
[Concept Granted: Absolute Sky Repulsion.]
[Defining ‘Sky’ as: All forms of intervention originating from ‘Above’ (Weather, Sky Magic, Tribulations, and the Gaze of the World’s Law).]
From the golden vortex in the ceiling, a silent, deeppurple pillar of light shot down. It wasn’t ordinary lightning. It was an erasure beam. Wherever the light touched, matter didn’t just break; it ceased to have ever existed.
Kaelen closed his eyes, gripping his sword tightly, ready to feel the agony of his 148th death.
But the destruction never came.
BOOM—Ssssshhhh...
The sound wasn’t an explosion, but a soft hiss, like water hitting a hot pan. Kaelen slowly opened his eyes, and what he saw made his brain, tempered by hundreds of time loops, nearly stop functioning.
The pillar of erasure light struck the canopy of Aster’s junky umbrella. Instead of piercing through and erasing them, the purple light slid off. The concept of “Absolute Sky Repulsion” forced everything descending from above to veer away. The deadly light glided smoothly along the patched tarp, turned ninety degrees, and slammed into the distant main vault of the black market, melting the meterthick steel door into a pool of molten metal in an instant.
Above them, the hundreds of golden eyes of the World’s Law blinked wildly, as if suffering a logic error. How could a causality tribulation be repelled by a fishysmelling umbrella?!
After three seconds that felt like a century, the golden vortex closed with an awkward pop, and the cave ceiling reverted to ordinary granite. Time in the black market resumed, but instant chaos erupted as the merchants realized their main vault had melted away.
Kaelen fell to his knees, his sword slipping from his grasp. He looked at Aster—who was busy dusting off his junky umbrella—with a fanatical gaze that bordered on religious worship.
“You...” Kaelen’s voice trembled, tears involuntarily welling in his eyes. “You just slapped the face of the World’s Law... with an umbrella? You deliberately baited a causality tribulation just to test the durability of your mortalmade artifact?! Master Aster... just how far does your plan to manipulate fate truly go?!”
Aster stared at Kaelen blankly, then looked at his umbrella. Master?! Who are you calling Master?! I was just afraid of getting hit by falling rocks!
“Lord Drago, this black market clearly violates building safety standards. Their ventilation is so poor it’s creating static electricity that almost struck us,” Aster said flatly, hurriedly folding his umbrella and stuffing it back into his bag.
He crouched down and picked up the Cracked Stone lying on the floor. To hide the stone’s aura from the World’s Law—which might still be watching—Aster pulled out a cheap tin lunchbox he’d brought to hold Toby’s leftover bread.
[Item: Tin Lunchbox (Quality: F)]
[Concept Granted: Existential Isolation (Hides contents from the scanning of gods, laws of nature, and landlords).]
Aster dropped the Cracked Stone into the lunchbox, shut it tight, and slid it into his robe pocket. “Let’s go before the black market guards accuse us of melting their vault.”
Aster grabbed Kaelen’s arm—who was still in deep shock—and dragged the protagonist out of the black market’s chaos, heading up the secret stairs toward the surface.
They arrived in the wine cellar. Aster pushed the giant wine barrel that served as the exit, breathing in the fresh night air of the academy city with relief. Finally, I’m safe. I have the stone, and I have the remaining gold.
However, the look of relief on Aster’s face vanished instantly.
In the backyard of the wine cellar, which should have been empty, stood a dozen people in silver robes with the crest of the Royal Magic Tower on their chests. In the center, an old oneeyed man held a magic compass; its needle spun wildly before pointing straight at Aster’s chest.
“Aster Vale,” the oneeyed man said, his voice cold and echoing with the authority of highlevel magic. “In the name of the Magic Tower and the Patriarch of the Clydes family, you are under arrest for the suspected use of prohibitedlevel demonic artifacts, destruction of black market property, and the murder of a nobleman’s character. Surrender, or we will use force.”
Beside Aster, Kaelen slowly rose, his bloodred mana aura beginning to boil and scorch the night air, ready to slaughter anyone standing in his “Master’s” way. Aster, however, quickly held Kaelen’s shoulder, his eyes locked on the Inquisitors while his hand slowly reached into another pocket of his robe, touching a cylindrical object he’d crafted from an empty toothpaste tube.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 145: Back to the Shop
Nine o'clock at night.The bell above the door of Vale Junk Shop rang. Ting.The sound was small, rusty, and slightly out of tune. But to Aster Vale, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. A sound that meant he was home. A sound that meant the workday was over. And most importantly, a sound that meant it was time to count his money.Aster stepped inside, closed the wooden door with creaking hinges, and locked the double latch. He did not turn on the main light right away. Moonlight filtering through the front window was enough to guide him to the rocking chair behind the counter. The chair creaked in protest as he sank his tired body onto its thin cushion.From inside his woven rattan bag, he pulled out a notebook, a pen, and a broken mechanical calculator with a snapped indicator needle. Then, he began taking out bags of coins.Clink. Clink. Clink.The sound of gold hitting the wooden counter was tonight's symphony. Aster lined up the piles of coins, sorted them by income sour
Chapter 144: Two Different Paths
The corridor connecting Floor One to the surface was still intact. The stone steps creaked under the footsteps of Helena and Kael—two figures who should have never walked side by side. The Grand Inquisitor of the Church of Sacred Light. The General of the Valdris War Faction. Two institutions that had stood on opposite sides for two hundred years.Behind them, four royal knights escorted them. Not escorting them as prisoners. Escorting them as... witnesses. As people who did not know what to do about two individuals who had just stopped being themselves.Sunlight poured in from above. Real sunlight. Not crystal light. Not the glow of moss. Not mirror reflections. Sunlight that was warm, honest, and reflected nothing other than itself.Helena stopped at the dungeon gate.The black stone arch towered before her—ancient symbols eroded by three hundred years, security seals that were now dark, a surface no longer glowing. The gate looked old. Tired. Like someone who had stood for too long
Chapter 143: From Cult to Community
Malachar did not walk like a Grand Priest. There was no cape billowing without wind. No eyes burning with the fire of conviction. No voice sounding like dry bones scraping together inside a cave.He walked like an old man who had just woken up from a forty-year sleep, realizing that all his dreams belonged to someone else.His steps were short. Hesitant. His old shoes touched the mirror floor without confidence—without direction. Where should he go? What should he do? Who was he, if not the Grand Priest of the Abyss Remnant Cult? Who was he, if not a hunter of God? Who was he, if not anything at all?The Cracked Mirror still lay on the floor. Its cracked surface now reflected the ordinary light of the Maze—a light that showed no souls, no truth, nothing other than the surface. But Malachar did not need to look at the mirror anymore. He had already seen it. And what he saw was still burning behind his eyes.A former bishop. Alone. Fired. Without friends. Talking to walls.Not a Grand P
Chapter 142: Toby, the Unwanted "Prophet"
He found a gap between two cracked mirrors—a narrow two-meter space hidden behind the reflection of light. There, far from the battle, far from the screams, far from poison daggers, mana nets, and giant fists slamming into the floor, Toby did the only thing he could do while the world was collapsing around him.He cooked.The Kerosene Stove burned with a small blue flame. Its bent chimney puffed out thin steam that smelled like chicken broth mixed with damp moss and a hint of ozone from the dungeon air. Inside the dented pot he brought from the shop, dungeon water boiled—water he scraped from the leaks along the Maze walls, water no sane person with an appetite would ever drink.Toby stirred the soup with a wooden spoon he had chewed on in three places. A greasy apron was tied around his neck—an apron he found in a supply sack when they first entered the dungeon. It was way too big for him, but enough to keep his fur safe from splatters.This was not the thick, black, asphalt-smelling
Chapter 141: Aster Faces the Three Leaders
Reinforcements arrived in four minutes and thirty seconds.A platoon of Aethelgard royal knights—forty men in silver armor with golden lion crests on their chests—entered Floor Four in a two-column formation. Their captain, a woman with a scar on her temple and eyes that had seen too much to ever be shocked by anything, swept her gaze across the Maze.And even she stopped.Twenty Valdris shadow soldiers sat on the floor. Weapons lay beside them. Masks unfastened. Empty eyes. Not fighting back. No need to bind them—they weren't even trying to stand up.Twelve cult followers knelt on the other side of the Maze. Their red eyes blinked with a confusion never before seen on the face of any cultist. Some were crying. Some were staring at their own hands. Some just stayed quiet.Kael's five guards lay near the shattered mirror wall. Unmoving. Breathing, but unmoving.And in the middle of it all, three people sat in front of a small cracked mirror. Crying.The platoon captain swallowed hard.
Chapter 140: The Last Line of Defense
The effect of the Rusty Shop Bell pulled everyone to a single point. The effect of the Dusting Broom erased intent from everyone within a ten-meter radius. But not everyone was within that radius. And not all intent could be erased.Kael's five personal guards stood at the edge of the Maze. They felt the pull of the bell. They felt the broom's erasing effect. But they were veterans of three border campaigns—their souls had been forged too hard, too many times, for the outer layer of their intent to be wiped away by a single sweep of a broom.And four of Malachar's followers—four of the twelve who had been brainwashed too deeply, for too long, for the chains on their souls to be loosened by a single wave of cleansing—stood up. Their red eyes glowed. Ritual knives were drawn.Nine figures moved. Not toward the mirror. Not toward the three crying leaders. Toward Aster.Toward the old man crouching on the moss, his back to the world, pressing the buttons of a broken calculator.Kaelen mov
You may also like
I AM THE MASTER OF UNLIMITED DOLLAR SYSTEM
MELODEAROSE31.6K viewsCultivation Sign-In System
ShadowKatake57.5K viewsVillain steal the Heroines
Autistically24.0K viewsSystem Blessing For The Poor Son-in-law
Pein50.0K viewsGod Slayer: SSS-Rank Abyssal System
The Silent Quill196 viewsSCUMBACK
Charisma715 viewsMy System Has a Daily Human Limit
Konice91 viewsHeaven Defying System
Wordsmith Wanderer613 views