Dimensional Trader: From F Rank To Top Trader-Chapter 46 - 45: Flagged
Juliet sat in her apartment, wrapped in a faded hoodie, her hair still slightly damp from the emergency healing rinse she’d used on her temples. Her wristband lay cracked on the table—burned through, the circuits fried from whatever the hell Frank’s system had blasted through it.
The apartment was quiet.
Too quiet.
No system pings. No market flashes. No sarcastic banter over who got the better weapon drop.
Just her and the silence.
And the scar behind her left ear that hadn’t been there two days ago.
She ran her fingers along it absently.
"I touched something I wasn’t meant to," she muttered. "Something he didn’t even warn me about."
On the couch across from her, a hunter report played faintly on the holo-screen.
> "...the Association has issued a system patch for misaligned rank recognition glitches, but denies rumors of any foreign tech interference..."
She muted it.
"Lies," she whispered. "They don’t even know what he’s using."
She turned to her desk. Spread across it were a dozen scraps of notes she’d written over the last week:
"Non-standard portal energy signatures"
"Items with origin codes I’ve never seen"
"Who is Zaruun???"
"Frank’s wristband reads multiple realms??"
"Trade system responded to me... then rejected me violently."
Juliet let out a shaky breath and leaned back.
For the first time in a while, she admitted something out loud:
"I don’t know how to help him."
And worse?
She wasn’t sure he even thought she could.
She grabbed her jacket and slid it on, then paused at the door.
"I’m not going to keep getting left behind, Frank," she said softly.
"Next time, you talk."
***
Frank sat at his desk, the system still quiet from his return.
The glowing cube labeled Dimensional Trade System Core Overview floated calmly above the surface—gentle pulses flickering like a heartbeat. It had been sitting there for over twenty minutes.
Frank hadn’t touched it.
Not out of fear.
But because, for once, he wasn’t sure what would happen when he did.
He exhaled.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let’s see what all the mystery was for."
He tapped it.
The cube dissolved—unfolding into lightwoven lines, symbols, and cascading windows.
> [ACCESS GRANTED: ARCHITECTURE OVERVIEW – RED CODE LEVEL 3]
Dimensional Trade System – Abstract Layer Synopsis:
Built by Origin-Crafters. Not native to Earth. Not tied to any single realm. Designed for Story-based Economies.
Frank’s eyes narrowed. "Story-based...?"
The text scrolled.
> This system does not reward power. It rewards consequence.
Items traded, favors owed, alliances forged—all feed the unseen ledger. A ledger that writes not in gold, but in narrative weight.
> Each Trader affects the Tapestry. The more chaos, sacrifice, cleverness, or betrayal one brings... the more influence their system thread gains.
Frank’s breath caught.
This wasn’t just a trading app. This was a living story engine.
> Multiple systems are currently active across dimensions. Most users will never interact. Only Traders with interweaving threads breach multiple realms.
You are one.
"...And no one told me?"
> Because you weren’t supposed to survive this long.
Frank leaned back in his chair, stunned.
The screen flickered again, revealing a single glyph—a pulsing red diamond with seven prongs branching outward.
Underneath, it read:
> Current Thread Status: Unstable. Growth Curve: Atypical. System Interest: High.
Observers Active. Watchers Waking.
Next Threshold: Approaching.
Trader Hagan—
Will you trade control for influence?
Frank blinked. "Trade control...?"
The file collapsed into a single line of text:
> Every trader becomes a Chapter. But some... legends
He sat there in silence.
The glow faded. His apartment dimmed.
Juliet was gone.
The system was alive.
And Frank?
He was standing at the edge of something far bigger than trade routes and gadgets.
"...I need a drink."
Frank had barely stood from his chair when the room darkened.
Not from power failure. Not from magic.
From attention.
The system window above his wristband didn’t flicker—it stared.
Then, like smoke taking form, a new window opened, outlined in violet thread and golden ink.
A message formed:
> [Private Trader Channel: Secured]
Incoming Transmission: Trader Alias – Sarina of Threadline K-73
Frank groaned and ran a hand through his hair. "Of course it’s her."
The projection shimmered.
And then—she appeared.
Sarina. Leaning against a lattice of mirrors and glowing trade runes, arms crossed, her expression sharper than usual. Less seductive smirk. More collected fury.
Her eyes locked onto his.
"Hello again, Frank."
He crossed his arms. "Been a while. I assume you’re not here to offer more mystery crates."
Her smile was razor-thin. "You left me trapped in a dungeon. And you stole the trade meant to elevate my faction."
"You tried to con me into signing a loyalty clause disguised as a favor scroll."
"I was being playful." Her voice turned flat. "Now I’m being professional."
Frank raised an eyebrow. "So what’s this? A threat?"
Sarina’s eyes gleamed. "Let’s call it... a pre-invoice."
The air pulsed. Frank’s system beeped:
> [Notification: A Debt Marker has been placed against Trader Hagan.]
[Reason: Swindling, Entrapment, Unfair Countertrade of High-Value Asset.]
[Issuer: Sarina of Threadline K-73]
[Collection Window: Pending. Interest Accrues Upon Acknowledgement.]
Frank blinked. "You put me in your system as a debtor?"
"I’d put you in a box if I could," Sarina said, voice like velvet-wrapped steel. "But this is cleaner."
He tilted his head. "So what—this is revenge?"
"No." She smiled. "This is... the opening move."
Frank narrowed his eyes. "You gonna send bounty traders after me?"
She stepped closer through the projection, almost like she could reach through it.
"Oh, Frankie." She whispered it now. "You’ve climbed too fast. You’re making too much noise. Everyone’s watching now. I’m just the one who decided to charge you first."
The projection faded, but not before her parting words burned into the screen:
> "Let’s see what you’re really worth... when everything around you starts to cost."
> Location: Threadline K-73 – Sarina’s Vault Chamber
Sarina moved with slow precision as she stitched shimmering trade-seal threads across the air. Each symbol she traced burned blue with verification.
Behind her, three crystal mirrors projected Frank’s smirking face at different moments—one mid-trade, one mid-con, and one mid-escape from her last trap.
She finished the final rune with a flick of her nail.
> [Notice of Intent: Trader Bounty Tier 3-A]
Target: Frank Hagan, Independent Earth-Origin Trader
Reason: System Disruption / Fraudulent Trade Reversal / Network Manipulation
Claim Type: Competitive – Reward Based in Threadline Assets and Market Rights]
The glyph pulsed.
> [System-Wide Notification Queued.]
Sarina smiled faintly, then whispered to the mirror:
"Let’s see how far that clever mouth of yours gets when every realm is watching it." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞
> System-Wide Ping: All Active Traders – Notice Issued
Trader: Frank Hagan
Status: FLAGGED
Caution: Engaged in manipulative and irregular trade tactics. Approach with awareness. All counter-trade actions now open.
> Location: Battleforge Cliffs – Realm of Tarka
Zaruun stood atop a jagged stone outcropping, arms folded as the wind howled around him. His gauntlet pulsed with the alert.
He glanced at it.
Then scoffed.
"Cowards."
He turned away from the screen.
"I dueled that man in trade. He didn’t cheat. He won."
He paused. Then added, "Loudly."
The message blinked again. Zaruun swiped it away.
"I’ll not raise a sword—or a scroll—against someone who earned my respect."
> Location: Goblin Market – Skitterfang Hollow
Moggrel nearly fell off his throne laughing.
"FLAGGED?" he cackled. "Trader Hagan? Ohhh, finally!"
He leapt to his feet, scattering a pile of discount rune charms.
"Get me the crate team. Get me the counterfeit coin mages. Bring out the bad coupons."
His assistant blinked. "Sir, are we moving against him?"
"We’re moving around him, under him, and possibly through him," Moggrel grinned, his eyes alight with profit-madness.
"Frank Hagan just lost his trader’s neutrality."
He turned toward the back of the market, where a vault door glowed with forbidden glyphs.
"And I’ve got just the trap to sell him."
Frank woke to the sound of his wristband humming.
Not buzzing. Not pinging.
Humming.
Like it was trying to politely wake him before the world tried to kill him again.
His eyes opened slowly.
The apartment was dark. Quiet. Juliet was still gone.
For a few precious seconds, everything was still.
Then the interface blinked to life.
> [System Alert: High-Level Dimensional Bulletin Received]
Frank groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Please don’t be another cursed crate."
But it wasn’t.
The projection unfurled, glowing red at the corners, gold in the center.
> [Dimensional Network Notice – Class II Escalation]
Trader: Frank Hagan
Status: Flagged – Disruption-Class Threat
Issuer: Sarina of Threadline K-73
Reason: Interference, High-Risk Manipulation, and Unrecorded Contract Breach
Note: This is a bounty flag, not a neutral status revocation. Trader retains system rights but is now subject to open counter-trade and classified challenge rights from other realm-aligned traders.
Frank read it again.
Then once more.
Then he sat forward, hair tousled, shirt wrinkled, and muttered:
"...They flagged me, but didn’t revoke my rights."
His fingers tapped against his wristband slowly. "That means... they don’t want me cut off."
"They want me visible. Vulnerable. Fair game."
He leaned back in his chair and stared at the glowing notice.
"Sarina, you slippery dagger-wrapped-in-lip-gloss... You’re not trying to kill me."
He smirked faintly.
"You’re trying to break me."
Frank stood up, stretching, the tension rolling through his shoulders like old rust coming loose.
"Let’s see who cracks first."
He stared at the glowing seal again—his name, etched in warning across the realm like a flashing neon sign.
> Frank Hagan – Status: Watched | Challenged | Open for Counter-trade
"...If they want to come for me, fine," he muttered.
"But they better bring something worth bartering with. Because I don’t fold."
He smirked again—this time colder.
"I sell."
