CHAPTER 45: CH-45- 5.7 BILLION ( DEVIN STORY)

The fat man, whose name Devin had learned was Borlo, led him through the reinforced door. The air changed instantly, from the chaotic buzz of the market to a silent, pressurized stillness that felt like the inside of a vault. The room was a stark contrast to the grimy stall outside: soundproofed walls paneled in dark wood, a single, massive desk carved from a single slab of obsidian, and climate-controlled display cases holding artifacts that shimmered with restrained power.

Behind the desk sat the true power in this corner of The Exchange.

He was an old man, but age had not softened him; it had whittled him down to a core of hardened, ruthless efficiency. His hair was a swept-back mane of silver, and his face was a roadmap of scars and sharp angles. But it was his eyes that commanded attention. His right eye was a normal, piercing grey, but over his left eye was mounted a complex optical device, a single, circular lens set in a frame of polished brass and etched with minute, glowing runes. It was a Master-Appraiser’s Monocle, a priceless artifact that could discern the composition, age, and true mana signature of any object. It gave him the look of a predatory, steampunk scholar.

He didn’t look up as they entered. His attention was fixed on a data-slate, his fingers, adorned with simple, black iron rings, tapping silently.

"Borlo," the man said, his voice a dry, rustling sound like pages turning in a ancient tomb. "You interrupt my audit. This had better be worth the breach in protocol."

Borlo, who had been so boastful outside, was now trembling slightly. "Boss Silas, I... I have something big. Unprecedented."

Silas finally looked up. The Monocle over his left eye whirred faintly, its lens focusing first on Borlo’s sweating face, then flicking to Devin. It lingered for a moment on the E-rank badge, and a flicker of profound disdain crossed his features before his expression settled back into impassive stone.

"Define ’big’," Silas commanded, steepling his fingers. The black iron rings clinked softly.

"This kid," Borlo blurted, pointing a shaky thumb at Devin. "He’s got a bag. Full of high-purity mana crystals. We’re talking ninety percent!"

The silence that followed was heavier than any threat. Silas’s one natural eye narrowed. The Monocle remained fixed on Devin, its runes glowing a faint, steady blue.

"Ninety percent,"

Silas repeated, the words flat. He slowly leaned forward, the chair groaning under his weight. He sized Devin up, from his worn boots to his terrified eyes.

"An E-rank hunter. With a fortune that could buy a guild headquarters." He let the absurdity hang in the air. "Borlo, if you are attempting to amuse me, or worse, deceive me, you know the price of dishonesty in our business."

He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to.

As if summoned by the very concept of threat, a section of the shadowed wall moved. A man detached himself from the darkness, so large he seemed to block out the light. He wore a simple, black combat suit, his head shaved, his face a mask of brutal impartiality. His aura wasn’t just powerful; it was oppressive, a physical weight that pushed down on the room, making it hard to breathe. He cracked the knuckles of one massive hand. The sound was like rocks grinding together. A chill, colder than any dungeon’s depths, shot down Devin’s spine. Borlo audibly gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

"N-no lies, Boss Silas! I saw it myself! One crystal! The purity was off the charts!" Borlo stammered, his voice an octave higher.

Silas held his gaze for a moment longer, then finally turned his full attention to Devin. The Monocle’s lens seemed to bore into his very soul.

"Show me," Silas said, the command simple and absolute. "Show me what an E-rank worm dragged out of the dirt."

His heart hammering against his ribs, Devin stepped forward. He could feel the enforcer’s gaze burning into the back of his skull. With trembling hands, he upended the burlap sack over the obsidian desk.

What happened next was not a simple pouring out of stones. It was an avalanche of light.

Fifty mana crystals, each one a masterpiece of condensed energy, spilled across the dark surface in a roaring cascade of brilliance. They were not uniform; they were a symphony of blue and white, each pulsing with its own intense inner life. The room was flooded with a light so pure and powerful it felt sacred. The runes on Silas’s Monocle flared to life, spinning and whirring frantically, projecting frantic streams of data only he could see.

80%... 88%... 91%... 93%... a staggering 95%...

The numbers were impossible. The sheer volume was unimaginable.

The oppressive aura from the enforcer faltered for a split second, a crack in his impenetrable calm. Borlo simply stopped breathing, his eyes wide with religious awe.

Silas, the unflappable king of the black market, was stunned into utter silence. He slowly, ever so slowly, rose from his chair. He didn’t look at Devin. He didn’t look at Borlo. His entire world had shrunk to the galaxy of power glowing on his desk. He reached out a hand, not to take, but simply to feel the energy radiating from a crystal with 95% purity. His fingers hovered just above it, trembling for the first time in decades.

The fortune on the table wasn’t just life-changing. It was city-toppling.

And it all belonged to the terrified E-rank hunter standing in the middle of the room.

Silas’s voice was a hoarse whisper, stripped of all its former authority and filled with nothing but sheer, unadulterated awe. The glow from fifty high-purity mana crystals reflected in his single, unnervingly sharp eye and the complex lenses of his appraisal monocle.

"Whaatttt..." he breathed, the word barely audible. He finally tore his gaze from the glittering fortune on his desk to stare at Devin, his expression a turbulent mix of shock, greed, and utter disbelief. "Kid. Where did you get all these crystals from?"

The question hung in the pressurized air. Each crystal was a treasure that would make a guild master weep. For an SS-ranked hunter, finding one would be the crowning achievement of a decade of dungeon delving. For an E-ranker to possess a sackful wasn’t just improbable; it was a fundamental rewriting of the laws of the world.

Devin, though trembling under the combined weight of Silas’s gaze and the enforcer’s oppressive presence, held firm. His mother’s face, pale against hospital sheets, flashed in his mind. Daelen’s final shout echoed in his ears. He couldn’t risk this transaction falling through over questions he couldn’t answer.

"I’m sorry," Devin said,

his voice surprisingly steady. "I can’t divulge that information."

The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere shattered.

The massive enforcer behind him took a single step forward. No shout, no threat. Just a silent, deliberate release of his aura. It wasn’t just pressure; it was a physical force, a mountain of intent crashing down on Devin’s shoulders.

The air vanished from his lungs. His knees buckled, and he gasped, vision spotting at the edges. This was the true, unrestrained power of an S-rank hunter, a force meant to shatter bones and wills alike.

Just as Devin felt his consciousness start to slip, Silas raised a single, ring-adorned finger.

The pressure vanished instantly.

Devin collapsed to one knee, sucking in ragged, desperate breaths. Silas watched him, a slow, cold smile spreading across his face. It wasn’t a friendly smile; it was the look of a shark that had just scented blood in the water.

"A man of principle. I can respect that," Silas said, his tone dripping with false amiability. "Let’s move to business, then. Are you willing to exchange all of these stones for money?"

"Yes," Devin choked out without a second’s hesitation. The money was everything. The money was life.

"Excellent."

Silas picked up a simple, black metal ring from his desk, a basic spatial storage ring, the kind used for large financial transactions. He slid it across the obsidian surface. "The agreed-upon value for this... collection... is 5.7 billion credits. It’s all there."

Devin’s fingers shook as he picked up the ring. He focused a sliver of his mana into it, and a digital readout shimmered in his mind’s eye. The number took his breath away all over again.

5,700,000,000.00. It was an abstract number, but its meaning was concrete: his mother’s cure, Lily’s future, security. A wave of euphoric relief washed over him, so strong it made him dizzy.

Silas watched the hope dawn on the boy’s face, his own evil smile widening just a fraction.

"The world is a dangerous place, boy," he said, his voice a low, almost paternal murmur that was more threatening than any shout. "Be careful with that. It makes you a very, very attractive target."

The warning was genuine, but its purpose was twisted. It was meant to make Devin paranoid, to make him run and hide, to make him an easier prey.

Gathering his courage, Devin looked up. "Can you help me? I need to hire a contracted A-rank healer. For my mother."

Silas didn’t even blink. "Of course. A simple matter. The fee for facilitation and a guaranteed contract is one hundred million credits. I’ll have the details sent to the ring."

The transaction was seamless. A hundred million vanished from the ring’s total, leaving Devin still impossibly wealthy. He bowed slightly, too overwhelmed with gratitude to see the predatory gleam in Silas’s eye. "Thank you. Thank you, sir."

With the ring clutched in his fist like a lifeline, Devin turned and left the vault, the door hissing shut behind him. He was steps away from his miracle.

The moment the door closed, all false warmth vanished from Silas’s face. He turned to the monstrous enforcer, his expression cold and flat. He gestured a single finger toward the door through which Devin had just exited.

"Hakon," Silas said, his voice now devoid of any emotion. "Follow him. Collect back what is ours. The money in the ring."

The enforcer, Hakon, gave a single, silent nod. His eyes held the dead calm of a seasoned killer. He melted back into the shadows from whence he came, a ghost set on a mission to turn a young man’s dream into a bloody nightmare. The hunt was on.