Chương 453: The Debt Collector

Once we understood that the Void System's background frequency operated on a strict Law of the Scale, the entire dynamic of cosmic observation had changed. In the Hall of the Chronicle, Kasian, Jeeves, and I spent hours analyzing the implications of karmic weight. Higher-tier entities who used the white-noise interface to track, view, or monitor my progress accumulated a measurable debt on the universal Lattice.

To avoid a cosmic backlash that could disrupt their own authorities, the Scale forced them to offer equal aid or answers to balance the equation.

"I am not taking any loans," I stated plainly, leaning over the strategy table.

"I refuse to accept gifts or resources that would tilt the Scale into putting me in debt to a higher entity. But if someone has been passively spying on me through the Void System for cycles... I am more than willing to collect what they owe." Jeeves offered an impeccably polite, dry bow.

"A most sensible policy, Master. A Leader that does not borrow from shadows; he merely enforces his accounts." To test the mechanics, I conducted a series of experimental projections. I descended to the subterranean threshold of Sanctuary, standing on the obsidian gantry near the event horizon of the supermassive black hole singularity. Using my zeroth-tier [Symphony of the Animus Arch] in conjunction with my evolved [Voidflame], I used the black hole's event horizon as a massive spatial amplifier.

Instead of sending a polite query, I projected a formal, un-coded "Karmic Claim" into the System's background frequency, demanding that any observer who had monitored my false-flag raids or my soul-expansion training balance their account. For three days, no immediate portal opened. I didn't let the delay bother me. I returned to my physical routine in Bastion, enjoying the peaceful life our city offered as I vigorously continued my training.

I spent mornings watching the First-Year Academy students practice non-linear wind-slopes in the courtyard, afternoons reviewing Leoric's planetary shield upgrades, and evenings sharing cooked meals with Anna and Crys. On the fourth afternoon, while I was sitting on the terrace enjoying a cup of warm cinnamon tea, the Void System's purple crystal shards suddenly flared in my peripheral vision. A telepathic transmission resonated directly inside my optical nerves.

The signal carried a strange, familiar resonance — I briefly wondered if it was connected to the First Progenitor or Paelus, but a deeper analysis revealed a distinctly different, uncompiled origin. The sender was clearly annoyed. [Stop spamming the Frequency with formal Claims and Declarations, little child. Step into the portal so we can clear this ridiculous balancing demand.] A void-woven portal opened before me on the balcony.

Before stepping through, I verified the Void-Contract parameters with Kasian and Jeeves through our link, ensuring absolute physical safety, free will to depart at any microsecond, and zero mental manipulation. Satisfied with the security guarantees, I stepped through the threshold. The spatial transition ended inside a timeless, elegant pavilion floating in the center of an endless void-sea.

Sitting at a low, carved wooden table inside the pavilion were two individuals who looked astonishingly young — mid-twenties at most in physical appearance. The first was a young man with sharp, aristocratic features and long dark hair, clad in simple, unadorned white silk robes. The second was a young woman with serene, pearlescent skin and long silver-and-violet hair, wearing a flowing dress woven from starlight-thread.

Despite their youthful appearance, both of them radiated an unplumbed, ancient depth that made my [Primordial Shell] hum with quiet caution. The moment I stepped onto the pavilion, my [Lattice Perception] picked up a strange, profound soul-resonance from the young woman. Her aura carried a familiar, comforting frequency that made my central Star-Core pulse in sympathetic vibration. Before I could speak, the young man glanced at the woman beside him, giving her a subtle, quiet nod.

The silver-haired woman stood up without a word. She looked at me, her eyes carrying a deep, quiet emotion that I couldn't quite decipher behind her absolute, pre-System Veils, and walked past me, stepping off the pavilion edge to vanish into the void. I watched her leave, a deep frown tugging at my brow. Why did her soul-resonance feel so strangely familiar?

"Don't stare," the young man said dryly, pouring himself a cup of clear tea.

"It's rude." I turned my focus back to the young man, walking over to sit on a wooden stool across from him.

"Who was she?"

"None of your business," the young man replied flatly, setting his cup down. He looked at me with an irritated, long-suffering sigh.

"I was planning on clearing my karmic debt on my own time by dropping a coordinate slate in your lap a few cycles from now. But you just had to go and file a formal Claim through a supermassive black hole. Do you have any idea how loud that ping sounded in our archive?" This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"A debt is a debt," I said smoothly, leaning back on my stool.

"If you are willing to pay, I'm here to collect answers."

"Fine," the young man grumbled, leaning back against his chair.

"Ask your questions. But keep them within budget. The karmic debt I owe you for observing your little 'Young Master' false-flag show is relatively minor. If you ask grand cosmic questions that exceed the balance, I will simply refuse." I tested his parameters.

"Tell me how to destroy the Six Sunless Citadels of the High Courts instantly." The young man let out a loud scoff, shaking his head.

"Refused. That answer's value vastly exceeds the minor debt I owe you. Ask something within your budget, kid." I adjusted my approach, deciding to be meticulous and precise with my questions.

"Who are you?" I asked first.

"And why have you been watching me?"

"We are simply those who remained loyal to a Primordial whose soul architecture resembled yours," the young man answered cleanly, taking a slow sip of tea.

"As for why we watch... When an un-systemic hybrid war ignites in a newly quarantined sector that attracts the gaze of multiple Primordials and High Courts, it creates a unique ripple across the deep void. We monitor the ripple to ensure the fire doesn't extinguish prematurely."

"What specific data do you receive when you 'watch' me through the Void System?" I pressed, my eyes flashing.

"Are you reading my private thoughts? Are you copying my spell blueprints?" The young man laughed, a short, dry sound.

"Do you think we have the time or power to sit around watching your daily life like a theater show? No, child. The Void System's observation frequency provides only a background sliver of data — a faint, high-level karmic divination ping that signals your general well-being, your major public breakthrough milestones, and large-scale spatial anomalies that involve any of its Foundries. We don't see your private thoughts, and we don't copy your blueprints." I let out a quiet, internal breath of relief.

Knowing that higher entities weren't reading my inner thoughts or copying my private preparations was a massive weight off my shoulders. I shifted the topic, bringing up the parasitic Transcendent from Sector K-14.

"During my travels, I encountered a Tier 12 Transcendent who built his power on harvesting the suffering of millions of lower-tier citizens," I said, looking at the young man with cold, analytical eyes.

"If you entities possess such ancient power and watch these sectors... why do you allow parasitic monsters like him to exist? Are they not accumulating massive "debt", tipping the Scale or generating bad Karma or whatever?" The young man looked at me, his expression completely devoid of judgment or emotion. He was an absolute, cold pragmatist.

"Because his actions are none of my business," the young man answered plainly.

"I do not apply my personal morality to the affairs of lower-tier cultivators." He leaned forward over the table, using an analogy.

"Tell me, Eren Kai... when you built the high-density foundations for Bastion's foundries, did you inspect every square foot of soil? Did you weep for the colonies of rodents or insects whose nests were flattened under your slate pillars?"

"They are not rodents," I said, my voice dropping into a subterranean rumble.

"They are living people."

"To a Tier 12 Transcendent who has lived for three million cycles, the difference between a mortal cultivator and a rodent is purely academic," the young man replied calmly.

"He harvests suffering to fuel his core; you harvest forests, monsters, beasts, animals and Shards to fuel yours. He operates within his realm, and I operate within mine. Unless his actions directly disrupt my primary objectives, I have no reason to intervene." We debated the ethics for several minutes, the young man maintaining a detached, macro-cosmic perspective while I held firmly to my grounded philosophy of protecting my found family and refusing to treat lower populations as fodder.

"Your answers have satisfied the debt," I finally said, standing up from the stool and adjusting my cloak.

"Our account is settled."

"Good," the young man sighed in relief.

"Now stop pinging my frequency." Just as I turned toward the portal threshold, the space beside the pavilion rippled. The silver-haired woman re-emerged from the void. She walked up to the table, holding a sealed parchment letter wreathed in dark violet runic seals, and attempted to hand it directly to me. Before my fingers could touch the parchment, the young man flicked his wrist. A spatial barrier materialized between us, intercepting the letter and pulling it back to his hand.

"No," the young man told the woman firmly, his tone carrying a rare, serious edge. He looked at her, speaking cryptically.

"We talked about this. He is not ready for that weight." The silver-haired woman looked at the young man, then turned her gaze to me. She gave a slow, silent nod of agreement, stepping back into the void. I stood on the pavilion edge, staring at the intercepted letter with a deeply confused, intrigued expression. Why had she tried to give me a letter? And why did her shrouded soul-resonance feel so insanely familiar, like a memory buried deep beneath eons of ash?

"Get going, child," the young man waved his hand, opening the exit portal behind me.

"Our account is zero, for now." I took a deep breath, refrained from pushing the issue, and stepped through the threshold. The spatial transition ended, and I re-emerged on the obsidian gantry in Sanctuary, standing beside the supermassive black hole. I returned to Bastion, meeting with Kasian and Jeeves in the Hall of the Chronicle to debrief the encounter.

As I explained the young man's answers — confirming that higher entities received only high-level fate pings rather than private thoughts — Kasian and Jeeves let out collective sighs of relief.

"A most reassuring revelation, Master," Jeeves bowed.

"Our internal security remains absolute." I sat at the slate desk, pulling up our sector maps, a dry, confident, and utterly fearless smile spreading across my face.

"And now that we know how the Law of the Scale works..." I chuckled softly, looking at my inner circle.

"We know exactly how to use it."

"Use it how, Master?" Kasian asked.

"I'm going to become a Galactic Debt Collector," I grinned, my eyes flashing with a starless black and arterial crimson fire.

"Nobody likes a debt collector, Jeeves... but if these ancient observers want to watch our show, they're going to pay their tab."