"The Ghost wants a tribute? Or is it just you people?" Neo asked.

​The leader of the hooded group maintained his politeness. "Guest, you may have your doubts about the Ghost, but he is real. We are only working for him; if you can’t give us something, then just leave."

​Neo and Elena exchanged a glance. Elena’s expression suggested they should compromise. Neo decided it was the rational choice; there was no need to start a fight over this.

​He quickly signaled two masked undead to hand over two magical assault rifles from their backs. The wounds on the six undead were covered by tattered rags, so the guards didn’t suspect anything. On the contrary, their dangerous presence acted as a deterrent, warning the guards not to try anything funny with Neo or Elena.

​Ignoring the undead, the leader’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction after receiving the two assault rifles.

​"Oh, what do we have here? A Drag-1756 and a Meg-90. These are quite marvelous. You must be quite the rich fellas, aren’t you?"

​Neo hurrumphed coldly. "Don’t bite off more than you can chew. Make way!"

The leader didn’t move.. For a moment, greed flickered in his cybernetic optics, but his sensors also picked up the unnerving silence of the six cloaked figures standing behind Neo.

The air around the undead was unnaturally cold, a silent warning that these were not mere bodyguards, but something far more lethal.

​"Of course, of course," the leader said, quickly masking his greed with a toothy, metallic grin.

He then gestured for his men to step aside. "Forgive the rudeness. A man of your... resources... is always welcome in the Ghost Market. Please, enjoy the hospitality of the abyss."

​As Neo and Elena walked past, the crowded corridor of the cruiser seemed to part for them.

Nonetheless, the shouts of manic traders from behind them were wild.

​"Young master, do you want to buy this energy reactor?"

​"Customer, do you want to cuddle?"

​"Sir, do you want to try our new, delicious Octate Alien cuisine?"

​After carefully avoiding the frantic traders, Elena led them toward the lower gut of the ship. Along the way, Neo saw various medical pods and cryo-chambers.

​"These could have worked, but I suspect they would only make a healer at best. Anyway, where is that automata you mentioned?" he asked her from behind.

​"It’s with Dr. Clark. Just be patient, Master," she replied with a creepy smile, though he didn’t see it yet.

​After a while, the corridor narrowed and eventually led downward via a magnetic elevator. Neo, Atlas, Elena, and the six undead were all on board. Soon, after descending about 100 meters, a spacious chamber welcomed them.

​Neo looked around and saw various old-school data monitors and numerous biological experimental subjects on massive tables. At the center of the room sat a man with spectacles covering most of his face. His hair was jet-black, falling to his shoulders, and his oversized, unwashed coat gave off a foul odor.

​From every angle, this man screamed "intense shut-in."

​"Dr. Clark?" Neo asked, his hand instinctively hovering near his weapon. The smell of formaldehyde and rot in the room was even worse than the doctor’s coat.

​The man didn’t look up from the monitor, his fingers dancing across a clunky, mechanical keyboard.

"Elena... you’ve brought a ’Master’ this time. And quite a collection of... walking corpses. Fascinating."

​Neo narrowed his eyes. The doctor hadn’t even looked back, yet he had identified the undead immediately.

​"I’m here for the automata frame," Neo stated, his voice cold. "Elena said you have one from a Rothschild retrieval squad."

​Dr. Clark finally turned his chair around. His eyes, magnified by the thick lenses of his glasses, looked bloodshot and twitchy.

He let out a manic chuckle.

​"The frame? Yes, yes. The Valkyrie-7 model. A masterpiece of engineering and biology. But tell me, Young Master... what are you willing to trade for it? The Ghost doesn’t accept Federal Dollars down here."

​Elena stepped forward, her movements becoming strangely fluid, almost predatory.

"He has something better than money, Doctor. He has the Supreme talent."

​Neo felt a sudden chill. He hadn’t mentioned his specific talent rank to anyone before.

How did she know? Was the parasite already active inside her?

"Show him, Neo," Elena whispered, her voice sounding slightly distorted. "Show him how you can awaken anyone from death."

​Neo inwardly exhaled a sigh of relief.

​Hmm, so they think Necromancy is my Supreme Talent. It’s good that this parasite, or whatever is after me, doesn’t know about Universal Synthesis yet. But I’ll have to be very careful.

​Neo flashed a faint smile, then headed over to the doctor’s table. From there, he opened a preservation jar and took a dead frog out of it.

Then under Dr. Clark’s fascinated gaze, Neo activated his [Necromancy].

​Wu... Wu... Wu... Wu...

​The ghostly symphony played again, and this time it was even more chilling.

Dr. Clark’s hair stood on end.

The way the dead frog started twitching just after a touch from the boy was unbelievable.

Soon, the dead frog stood up on its legs and let out a horrifying, "Ree-beek!" sound.

​Dr. Clark’s eyes widened like saucers, and he nearly fell off his chair.

​"So it’s true... Necromancy really exists," he mumbled, his lips trembling. "This is the power that reshaped the fate of an inferior being like you."

​"True, Clark-708," Elena smiled creepily. "I didn’t think he would reveal his talent so easily. He is such a fool. To think, he will be the Tyrant of the future. And now, his path to Emperion will be cut off."

​Neo immediately signaled the undead to be ready, while his face maintained a confused persona.

​"What do you mean, Elena? Who exactly are you two?"

​"Hehehe..." Elena laughed manically. "I am your doom, Neo Godson. I am the end of your past, present, and future."

​Dr. Clark immediately pressed a red button on the desk, smiling coldly.

​"The Tyrant of the Future will be no more. Today is the day of freedom."

​THUD. THUD. THUD.