Money and Vessel.

  The stifling air hung heavy in Aryan's bedroom. Though asleep, his body twitched restlessly as he found himself trapped within a black void.

  "You think you can keep it?"

  The voice rasped like grinding stones, echoing through the emptiness.

  Aryan spun around frantically. "Who's there? Show yourself!" But only darkness answered, swallowing his words into its infinite depth.

  "My empire. My gold. My blood."

  The words resonated with ancient possession. A massive, shadowy maw gaped beneath Aryan's feet, its darkness hungrier than any physical void.

  He plummeted downward, the sensation of falling eternal and terrifying.

  Aryan thrashed violently on the bed, his limbs entwined in damp sheets that clung to his fevered skin.

  Panic surged through his veins as the nightmare's grip lingered. His body burned as though molten lava coursed through his veins instead of blood.

  Each labored breath sent waves of agony through his chest. The Billions sitting in his account represented far more than mere wealth or digital figures.

  They embodied raw, concentrated energy—the distilled life force of the Greed Demon itself. This power, malevolent, now resided within the fragile soul of a mere Rank One Human whose Strength stat barely registered at 8 within rank one.

  The imbalance was catastrophic, like housing a nuclear reactor in a paper shack. Aryan's mortal frame trembled under the strain, ill-equipped to contain such primordial force that threatened to consume him from within.

  Crack.

  A blood vessel in Aryan’s nose burst. Then one in his ear.

  The pressure inside his skull spiked. The Sam was trying to integrate the massive "Truth" data into his brain, but the hardware was too old, too weak.

  Sam shouted

  “WARNING Aryan, your Body is in Critical condition. Matter is Overload. Vessel Integrity is declining, 15%... 10%...” Aryan gasped, his eyes flying open, but he couldn't see, couldn't hear. His vision was a red haze.

  He tried to scream, but blood bubbled up in his throat, choking him.Aryan was arching off the mattress, his body seizing.

  Blood was pouring from his nose, his ears, and even the corners of his eyes. His skin was burning hot, radiating a visible red steam.

  The white bed sheets were already soaked crimson.He was vibrating, his veins bulging black against his skin.Amara rushed to his side, grabbing his wrist. It burned her hand.

  "Nine Scan!" she screamed. “Already on it. Examining the target Aryan.”Nine said.

  “His Matter is Poisoning. The Wealth acquired from the fight is Overload.The immense transfer is crushing his spiritual pressure. Time until Heart Failure is 30 seconds.”

  "Why did I forget this issue, this is an obvious thing. Hell.” Amara cursed herself.

  "That's not your fault, Amara. We're preoccupied with everything else, and this transformation shouldn't be occurring—certainly not now, not this rapidly.

  Something seems suspicious. Aryan hasn't even reached the peak of rank one, yet those billions he suddenly acquired are being converted into what we call Matter or Mana—spiritual energy—within his body by his system." Nine said.

  Glancing at Aryan's deteriorating form.

  "Discussions accomplish nothing at this point! This is like handing a nuclear reactor to a paper airplane!"

  Aryan gurgled in response, his trembling hand weakly clutching Amara's arm. His eyes rolled backward as his consciousness faded. He was dying—the very money that should have empowered him was instead destroying him from within.

  "Stay with me, brother!" Amara shouted, shaking Aryan vigorously as her typically cold composure crumbled.

  "Don't you dare die on me now." Nine interjected urgently amid the chaos, "You're addressing him as your brother. Though unconscious, his system might still register that." Frantically scanning their surroundings, Amara realized no simple remedy would suffice. He needed immediate relief from the pressure or an instant surge of strength to contain the overwhelming energy. She dismissed Nine's observation entirely.

  "Our blood connection confirmed his identity when I first sensed it, then seeing his mother removed all doubt," she muttered, her focus unwavering.

  "But that's irrelevant now." Her voice dropped to a desperate whisper.

  "Think, Amara, think!"She examined her status display. "Aspect of Greed. Infinite Vessel."

  The irony wasn't lost on her—she possessed a bottomless container while he suffered from an overabundance of energy, his body struggling to contain the surging power within.

  "I have to drain it," she realized, her mind racing through possibilities. "I need to siphon the excess pressure until his body stabilizes, before it tears him apart completely."

  "This might not necessarily work, Amara," Nine's voice echoed urgently in her mind, tinged with genuine concern.

  "Though you possess the infinite vessel, it still needs to develop gradually, not absorb such massive power at once. You could end up sacrificing yourself in the process."

  "We don't have time for caution, Nine," Amara replied, her voice steady despite the fear fluttering in her chest.

  "You know this as well as I do. Just do it. Now." With determination hardening her features, she grabbed Aryan by his shoulders and pulled him upward. His body felt disturbingly limp against hers, nothing more than dead weight in her trembling hands, his usually vibrant presence now terrifyingly absent.

  "Aryan, listen to me," Amara urged, her voice steady with intensity as she cradled his limp form.

  "I'm going to take the backlash. You just breathe. Focus on your heart. Beat. Just beat." She glanced at Aryan's eyes desperately.

  "Sam, you must help Aryan."

  "Already on it," Sam responded inside Aryan head, though Amara couldn't hear his words. She placed her palm directly over Aryan's chest, feeling the erratic energy beneath her fingertips as she activated her aura.

  "Skill Initiated. Dark Matter Siphon, Improvised," Nine announced, commencing the dangerous process that might save Aryan—or destroy Amara or both.

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  Black energy surged from Aryan’s chest into Amara’s hand. It was agonizing—like sticking her hand into a blast furnace. But she had the Limitless Vessel. She could take it.

  "Come on," she gritted out, sweat breaking on her forehead. "Give it to me."The crimson vapor surrounding Aryan spiraled into Amara's form. His violent tremors gradually subsided, and the blood trickling from his eyes ceased flowing.

  As the energy transferred into her, Amara felt the insatiable Greed taking hold. The ravenous hunger. The demon's voice now slithered through her consciousness like a venomous serpent.

  Power... take it all... kill him and take it all... Amara's face hardened with determination, her brows knitting into a severe frown as she mentally battled the intrusive presence.

  "Shut up," she commanded through clenched teeth. "He's my Brother."

  She cradled him there, in the bed now saturated with his blood, her body functioning as a human lightning rod for the tempest raging within him. Her arms trembled with the effort, but her resolve remained unbroken.

  The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils, yet she refused to relinquish her grip, refused to let him slip away into the consuming darkness that threatened to claim him.

  "Nine, what's the update?" Amara's voice trembled slightly, betraying the anxiety she had been struggling to contain.

  "It's stable now, Amara," Nine replied, with cautious relief.

  "His heart has stabilized, and he's no longer in critical condition."

  "That's good. That's good, Nine." Amara exhaled deeply, her shoulders dropping as some of the tension drained from her body.

  As she spoke, however, tendrils of black energy began seeping into her heart. Though Aryan's condition had improved, his face remained motionless, showing no signs of waking from his mysterious slumber.

  The dark energy swirled around them both like smoke, gradually thickening until it formed a void around them.

  Amara felt a cold sensation spreading through her chest, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Aryan's pale face.

  "Amara, something is wrong!" Nine shouted, voice cutting through the eerie silence.

  "It's a trap!" But their realization came too late. Before Amara could react, the black energy surrounding Amara and Aryan transformed into a swirling void, circling with increasing violence.

  The air grew heavy, making it difficult to breathe. Amara tried to call out, but her voice failed her as darkness closed in from all sides.

  In a mere fraction of a second, her consciousness slipped away, her body crumpling as the void claimed her.

  The Glass cage.

  The residence of Monarch Markus was not merely a Palace. It is a statement of absolute dominion.

  Located in the heart of State Markus—named for the monarch who vanquished Demon Dylan—stands the Capital City palace, an architectural marvel crafted entirely from reinforced, transparent glass.

  From the outside, it shimmers like a magnificent diamond under the moonlight, radiating beauty and ethereal elegance that beckons visitors closer.

  The crystalline structure catches every ray of light, casting prismatic rainbows across the surrounding grounds and creating an almost hypnotic display of colors that changes with each passing hour.

  But to those who understand the palace's true nature, this transparency serves as a deliberate taunt. The gleaming walls seem to whisper,

  "I have nothing to hide because no one alive possesses the strength to challenge me."

  This arrogant declaration reflects the confidence of those who rule from within, secure in their power and untouchable in their glass fortress.

  Visitors often stand mesmerized by its beauty, unaware of the cold calculation behind its dazzling design.Inside, the royal customs of the old world were strictly enforced.

  Subordinates walked with heads bowed, their footsteps silent against the crystalline floors.

  Deep within the palace lay the Study. Unlike the rest of the glittering structure, this room was swallowed by an unnatural darkness.

  It was a space that seemed to lean into the Void itself, rejecting all light. A figure sat in that darkness, barely visible.

  "Is everything done?" The voice was calm, devoid of emotion, yet it carried the weight of a man who had single-handedly slaughtered the Destroyer Class Demon, Dylan.

  A Hunter, kneeling on the cold glass floor, trembled.

  "As per your orders, everything is in order, Monarch Markus."

  "You failed last time," Markus stated. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn't have to. The kneeling Hunter flinched as if struck.

  "I... I underestimated them, my liege. I disguised my scent and appearance perfectly. It worked on them initially. The boy, Aryan... he is indeed a Seer, but he is still only Rank One. I was careless."

  The Hunter swallowed hard, sweat dripping onto the glass.

  "But this time... with your guidance and the new preparations, they will die for sure."Markus didn't look up from the documents he was reading in the dark.

  He didn't even spare the subordinate a glance.

  "This is your last chance," Markus said, the air in the room dropping several degrees. "Fix it well. They should be here soon. Go."

  In the center of the glass palace.Within the pristine glass towers, a reinforced chamber harbored an atmosphere thick with the copper scent of blood and the ozone smell of magic.

  This stark interior stood in sharp contrast to the rainbows that danced across the surrounding grounds, creating an almost hypnotic display of colors that shifted with each passing hour.

  The chamber's clinical sterility only amplified the metallic tang that hung in the air, a testament to Markus's ruthless methods.

  Outside, nature painted the landscape with vibrant hues, oblivious to the dark intentions brewing within these transparent walls.

  The juxtaposition of beauty and brutality seemed fitting for a place where life and death decisions were made with such cold calculation.

  Eight Hunters sat in a perfect circle, their faces illuminated by an eerie glow. In the center lay an intricate formation meticulously crafted from the harvested remains of Anay, the once-powerful Greed Demon.

  The red chalk lines pulsed with a sickly light, each throb seeming to carry the echo of the demon's final moments. The Hunters watched intently as the formation responded to the black tendrils of Void energy they methodically channeled into it, their expressions a mixture of concentration and unease.

  The air grew heavy with power and anticipation, while shadows danced across the walls of the chamber like restless spirits.

  "We've enhanced both the Void energy and Greed essence according to the Monarch's specifications," Hunter One whispered, her trembling hands smearing crimson droplets across the dirty rag.

  She gazed at the intricate patterns pulsing with an eerie luminescence, her forehead creased with worry lines that hadn't been there months ago.

  "But..." she hesitated, swallowing hard as memories of Amara's legendary exploits flashed through her mind,

  "do you truly believe this containment field can subdue Amara, the Cold-Blooded Hunter? The woman who single-handedly decimated the Northern Coven? I can't shake this dread settling in my bones. Honestly, I fear I may never witness tomorrow's sunrise."

  "Oh, give it a rest, Sis," Hunter Two muttered, checking his titanium watch for the third time that hour before forcing a dry laugh that didn't reach his tired eyes.

  "It's already past two in the morning. It's not 'tomorrow' anymore, it's today—a distinction that matters when you've been sitting in this blood-soaked chamber for fourteen hours straight.

  And I'm afraid the only thing we're going to see is darkness, just like the last three operations that yielded nothing but wasted resources and the Monarch's disappointment."

  He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, the faint tremor in his hand betraying the exhaustion he tried so desperately to mask with cynicism.

  The formation's sickly glow reflected off the thin scar that ran across his left cheekbone—a permanent reminder of his first encounter with a demon.

  "Don't jinx us, Bro," Hunter Three snapped, adjusting the feed of the poisonous mist filtering into the formation.

  "They must have been poisoned by now. The toxin in this trap is potent. Even a Peak Rank Five Hunter can’t circulate their matter once this gets into their lungs. She’ll be paralyzed before she draws her daggers."

  "Ai, if you ask me, it’s definitely Amara’s bad luck," Hunter Four said, shaking her head.

  "Who told her to ally with that Seer? And to personally kill the Greed Demon? She sealed her fate. We’re meant to serve the Monarch. Does a veteran like her really not know that?"

  Hunter Five frowned, looking at the pulsating formation.

  "But Sis Four... we’re talking about Amara here. After killing a Demon as powerful as Anay, her Rank must have officially increased. If she breaks out... the ones doomed will be us. With her power, even if she destroys this entire state to get to us, it wouldn’t be surprising."

  "Bro Five, use your brain," Hunter Six interjected, sounding confident.

  "She certainly can’t do that. It’s a law of physics on Planet Sean. As long as a High Rank entity—our Monarch—resides in the same territory, a Lower Rank entity cannot unleash state-destroying power. The matter pressure won't allow it.

  Our state is safe.

  Besides, Amara is precise. She doesn't destroy things that don't concern her."

  The group fell silent for a moment, the fear still lingering in the air.

  "You are all missing the point," Hunter Seven said quietly from the shadows. His voice cut through the chatter.

  "The Greed Demon Anay... he didn't just appear. He was personally raised by Monarch Markus."

  The other hunters turned to look at him.

  "No matter what form Anay transformed into," Seven continued, tapping the floor near the blood circle,

  "as long as someone absorbs his Greed Vessels, they fall under the Monarch’s control. It’s a failsafe."

  He glared at the group. "Now, shut up. Unless you want to die by Sis Eight's hands for speaking nonsense." At the mention of the Eighth Hunter, the group instantly went silent, turning their focus back to the pulsing, bloody trap waiting for its prey.

  Matter Poisoning: Aryan is literally drowning in his own success.

  Rank Suppression: You can't destroy a city if a Monarch is home. (Physics enforces the hierarchy).

  The Failsafe: Markus controls anyone who uses Greed Vessels.

  Next Chapter: The trap springs. Amara vs. The Eight Hunters.