Endless Debt-Chapter 883 - 29: Game of Wits (Part 3)

The Tyrant was at a loss; he was a greedy man, with servants under his command primarily focused on amassing wealth. They were far inferior in infiltrating intelligence compared to others, and years of ease had already caused him to sink into the Great Rift for far too long.

Aside from these troubling enigmas, one important matter had become incredibly clear at this moment.

The Order Bureau had obtained the Original Object.

The Tyrant didn’t know the research progress the Order Bureau had made on the Original Object, but considering the worst-case scenario, it wouldn’t be long before they discovered the truth about the world... or perhaps they already had.

"The conflict isn’t just approaching; it’s advancing ahead of schedule..."

The Tyrant murmured to himself; he had this premonition, the soaked blood was slowly warming up, growing hot.

"You used me."

A cold voice echoed in the darkness; Gray leaned in the corner, the Blood Transfer Sword placed beside him, and he held the exquisite Silence Sword in his arms, carefully wiping the Blade with the sleeve fabric.

Gray cherished this Secret Sword greatly; during his service to the Tyrant, he constantly used the Blood Transfer Sword in battle, and the Tyrant had never seen him draw out the Silence Sword.

The Tyrant said bluntly, "You were always a pawn of mine, any problem with that?"

Gray still held some value to him; for those who held value, the Tyrant was always very patient. However, this patience would be consumed along with the depreciation of that value.

The Tyrant took a deep breath; should he say not worthy of the Shadow King? Even in words, it was hard to gain an advantage against him, a slight sense of defeat arose, but this wouldn’t affect the Tyrant’s actions.

The most important thing for a merchant is trust.

"Speaking of which... what do you think, Gray?"

The Tyrant thought of something interesting; he enjoyed watching someone linger and struggle at the boundary.

His sinister gaze fell on Gray, releasing evil intent without reservation.

"Even if I don’t use you, what would you do?" the Tyrant asked. "Now that you’ve seen the Shadow King, just as I said before, will you fight for him or... kill him."

Gray’s action of wiping the Blade paused; his palm instinctively clenched, the cold metal cutting into the skin, and the gushing blood stained the silver-white Blade red.

His chest heaved violently for a few moments, then he calmed down, his gaze becoming tranquil as water again.

"No matter what kind of decision I make, I do not have the power to execute it."

Gray was very aware of his weakness, just now—even if he wielded the sword against the Shadow King—it made no difference, as at the moment he drew the sword, the Third Seat’s storm-like offense would descend upon him.

The Tyrant seized the key point, "Do you want power?"

Gray shook his head, "I have nothing else to offer you."

Power, such an alluring thing.

Gray thought of something; he asked, "As a Devil, what about your Protection?"

Every Devil possessed their own Protection, often as powerful as Secret Energy, but unlike Secret Energy, Protection came with unimaginable side effects, also known as curses.

Eternal Laboring makes the will of the Protector remain clear, never swayed by illusions but also condemns them to lifelong toil, unable to rest and find peace, until they become numb and collapse in endless fatigue.

Bloodthirsty Healing allows the Protector to devour flesh, gaining a powerful near-immortal body, but in the long-term feast, they grow increasingly hungry, and even if they burst their organs, they cannot gain the slightest sense of fullness.

Doom Just Enjoy converts intense emotional fluctuations into Ether, but as the threshold of pleasure continually refreshes, the Protector ultimately gains nothing but a numb heart and a twisted will that imposes cruel acts upon themselves to seek greater pleasure.

Gray knew these terrifying costs, but in the face of tangible power, few could resist it.

"Oh? You want my Protection."

The Tyrant’s eyes brightened up as if no one had asked for his Protection in a long time.

"My Protection is not that easy to obtain."

"Because of the high cost?"

The Tyrant furrowed his brows, thinking for a moment, "Actually, it’s not about the cost. In fact, the cost of my Protection is very slight; it’s just that the competition is somewhat fierce."

Gray did not understand what the Tyrant meant, when suddenly the Tyrant got up and came to Gray’s presence, pressing his hand against Gray’s chest.

"Protection· Greedy Obsession and Guarding."

Sinister words describing those horrifying, bizarre sentences; in a brief trance, it was as if the Tyrant lost the human form, becoming some unspeakable thing—a twisted posture beyond human senses could observe.

"This Protection is simple; I grant the Protector a vast Ethereal Pool, from which you can freely draw power. As long as you are willing, you can surpass your current Tier in Ether response at any time, rivaling Seekers of Glory—even infinitely aspiring to... the Crowned."

Gray’s breathing grew heavy, feeling his blood growing hot.

"However, this power isn’t perfect, the Ethereal Pool has a fixed total amount, with every increase in the number of Protectors, they share more of the Ethereal Pool’s power; initially, you might easily gain the power akin to that of a Seeker of Glory. But soon, as the number of Protectors increases, this power begins to dilute, eventually, the average strength you receive won’t even count as a Condenser."

Gray vaguely guessed what the cost might be.

"Greed."

The Tyrant joyfully said.

"I’ve had many Protectors in the past; to gain more power, they began to slaughter each other, with every Protector that disappears, they can obtain more power, and this is the cost my Protection requires.

Indeed! How can such greedy people allow themselves to share this power with others?"

Footsteps echoed from outside the door; someone arrived with heavy steps, Gray could hear the sound of metal grinding.

"After countless years of slaughter, one Protector killed all the competition, completely monopolizing my Protection." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

The door opened, and a Silent One adorned in pitch-black Armor stood in front of them, almost substantial killing intent brushed past Gray’s cheek, making him feel like his skin was filled with wounds.

"Sorry, Gray, it’s not that I am unwilling to grant you Protection."

The Tyrant said helplessly, "If I grant you Protection, at the moment you gain power, you will be killed by him."

"So do you understand now?"

Gray stared firmly at that silent figure, only at this moment did he understand how the Silent Legion and Gray Trade Association were connected; they inherently belonged to the same Devil’s command.

One responsible for selling wars, the other responsible for inciting wars.

The Tyrant was an excellent merchant, a war merchant tainted in blood.