Empire Building With Infinite Warehouse-Chapter 58: An Offer He Can’t Refuse

"You can’t be serious!" Julien shouted, his voice echoing endlessly across the infinite white space.

He pointed a finger at the massive Red Gate swirling a few yards away.

"I am a merchant! I am too weak to clear a basic Blue Gate, let alone a Red one."

Gina stopped walking to the side.

The faint, amused smile that had been resting on her lips vanished, replaced by a cold stare.

The temperature in the white void seemed to drop ten degrees.

"I know you are weak," Gina said, her tone flat and measured.

"I am not sending you in there to die alone. You will also take your team to Blaze’s party. I will even authorise the Association to hire whatever independent freelancers you think you need. But you, Julien, are going to raid the Gate in this district right after the second wave breaks."

Julien stumbled back a step, shaking his head.

"That doesn’t make any sense. Blaze is a veteran. Just send him. I sell bandages and low-grade potions, and most importantly, I don’t even have an offensive combat class."

Gina adjusted her glasses.

She watched his panic with the mild interest of a scientist observing a rat in a maze.

"I will make a space for your shop in this district," Gina stated.

Julien stopped talking.

His mouth hung open slightly. The fast beating of his heart paused for a fraction of a second as his merchant brain caught up to the words she had just spoken.

"Think about it," Gina continued, stepping closer, her heels making soft tapping sounds against the invisible floor.

"How far will you really go in District 9? Even if you rebuild your ruined apothecary, what is your ceiling? You help a few desperate, low-rank hunters scrape by. You count copper coins to pay for your next meal. But here? In District 5?"

She gestured to the empty air around them, but Julien’s mind instantly filled in the blanks.

The clean streets and non-damaged goods.

"Here, you would get A-Rank hunters as your daily customers," Gina said, her voice dropping to a murmur.

"Hunters with deep pockets, corporate sponsorships, and a desperate need for whatever bizarre, rule-breaking inventory you seem to possess. You wouldn’t be counting coppers anymore, Julien but gold."

Julien swallowed hard.

The thought of setting up shop in the upper districts was a pipe dream.

The permits alone cost more than his entire life’s earnings.

"And don’t forget the commission rule of your unique skill," Gina added, circling him slowly.

"You facilitate trades and acquire things easily. Why haven’t you tried taking a combat skill for yourself after selling something high-tier?"

"I tried," Julien muttered, his shoulders slumping.

He rubbed the back of his neck, the pain of his bruised chest flaring up even in this mental projection.

"It resulted in the same problem. The System tells me my base stats are too low and I am too weak to wield high-tier combat arts without tearing my own muscles apart. I’m an E-rank body carrying an S-rank liability."

Gina nodded slowly, stopping directly in front of him.

"You are indeed weak. If you go into the Red Gate like this, you will be nothing but deadweight."

Julien’s eyes sparked with sudden, desperate hope.

"Right! Exactly! I would just hold Blaze and the others back. So it is better if I sit this one out, manage the supply lines, and let the professionals-"

"You are going to unlock your Tier 3 inventory during the third wave," Gina interrupted, her voice cutting through his excuses like a blade.

Julien froze.

The hope drained from his face, replaced by pure horror.

"Huh?"

"I won’t repeat myself," Gina said.

"No, I heard you the first time!" Julien took another step back, his hands raised in defence.

"Do you think it just requires money to unlock the next tier? Because it doesn’t! I need to be in a literal life-or-death situation to open even Tier 2. The System requires me to be on the verge of getting slaughtered."

"I know."

Gina didn’t blink.

But she didn’t offer a reassuring smile.

"And if you refuse to raid the gate," Gina whispered, her pink hair floating slightly as the ambient pressure in the white room skyrocketed.

Her eyes, previously a calm, piercing shade, bled into a terrifying red.

The entire infinite white space violently shuddered, as Julien’s head felt like exploding.

"I will kill you."

Julien’s face went paper-white.

The threat wasn’t a negotiation tactic but a simple statement of fact.

If he walked away right now, the Guild boss wouldn’t even need to use a skill.

She could just crush his consciousness right here in the void, and his body in the physical world would drop dead in that expensive leather chair.

He stood there, trembling slightly under the crushing weight of her red-eyed stare.

He thought about the last few weeks.

Every single time a crisis occurred, he was dragged into the mud.

He was forced to participate, forced to bleed, forced to survive against monsters and corrupted hunters alike, all because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He never got a choice, and never got a reward, but just the fucking debt.

But this time?

This time, the danger was coming with a prime real estate contract attached.

Slowly, the trembling stopped.

Julien let out a long, exhausted breath.

A small, almost crazy smile crept onto his face.

"You keep your side of the promise," Julien said, his voice steadying.

He looked straight into her terrifying red eyes.

"Wipe the debt. Give me the shop in District 5 and help me set up the team. Do all that, and I will clear that Red Gate for you."

He extended a hand.

The oppressive aura vanished as Gina’s eyes returned to their normal colour and she had a smile.

She reached out and took his hand.

"Good luck."

The white room flared into a blinding light.

Julien gasped, his lungs violently pulling in a lungful of cool air.

The scent of coffee beans hit his nose.

He was back in the physical world.

The System’s penalty was still active, so he was still blind.

Across from him, the faint clink of touching glass echoed in the quiet office.

Gina set her empty coffee cup down on the saucer.

"So," Gina asked, her voice carrying the polite, casual tone of a business owner.

"Do you want cash, or should I wire the advance funds directly to your Association account?"