The Strongest Curse Master-Chapter 239: Weak Are Entitled To Nothing

"You guys don’t believe me?" Ace asked, raising a brow as he caught the skeptical glances being exchanged.

None of them responded, but their silence spoke volumes.

Offended, Ace pulled a fist-sized diamond ore from his cursed toybox and waved it around like a trophy, proclaiming, "I bet this diamond ore that I have more wealth than the three of you combined. Anyone daring enough to take me up on it?"

Delores, Evil Eyes, and Matthews all stared, momentarily stunned by the sheer size of the gemstone. But before any of them could ask for a closer look, Ace promptly stashed it away again, leaving them no chance to inspect it.

With that stunt he had proven that he had wealth. But did he have enough?

None of them were buying his claim that he was richer than all three of them combined. They assumed he was just boasting—throwing a tantrum because they didn’t immediately believe him.

"Ace," Delores sighed, choosing to ignore his antics. If she let herself get caught up in every ridiculous thing he said or did, she would’ve killed him by now. "You do realize that ’half your loot’ means you owe Janice a Sky-tier innate curse tool, right? Those are worth several times more than regular Sky-tier curse tools."

Ace’s expression darkened slightly, his impatience flaring. "Yeah, I know that. What’s your point?" He spoke in the kind of tone that made it sound like every second of his time was worth millions. And that was when he officially stopped being cute to his temporary teammates.

Neither Delores, Evil Eyes, nor Matthews appreciated his sudden rich-guy attitude, but they respected him enough as a teammate to let it slide—especially since, despite everything, he had been the MVP of this hunt.

"Sky-tier innate curse tools aren’t just sold on the market—unless, in rare emergencies," Delores explained, watching Ace carefully and continued adding, "They’re almost exclusively auctioned off because they always start bidding wars and end up selling for way more than they’re actually worth."

She was trying to persuade him to give up one of the Sky-tier innate curse tools he already had instead of trying to buy one for Janice. But—unfortunately for her—she had seriously underestimated Ace’s wealth.

"That’s fine," Ace said, completely unfazed. His gaze flicked between Matthews and Evil Eyes. "You two have Sky-tier innate curse tools on you, right? Name your price, and I’ll pay double."

Evil Eyes and Delores stared, caught off guard by how casually he threw that offer out. Matthews, however, narrowed her eyes at him and asked, "Young man, do you pay your taxes? Because I don’t remember seeing your or your family name on the wealth watch list."

Ace snorted, his lips curling into a smirk, countering, "Taxes? I haven’t earned a single dime in my entire life. Why the hell would I pay taxes?"

He took his attitude down a notch, realizing he might’ve been too quick to flaunt his wealth. How was he supposed to know that instead of focusing on curselings and curse criminals, the C.I.B. would be worried about whether or not he was paying taxes?

Matthews’ frown deepened, but before she could say anything, Ace grinned and added, "You can’t prove anything. I’m innocent." Matthews looked like she was about to throw him back in the loop just to see him suffer.

"You sure you only became a curse master a few weeks ago?" Delores asked, crossing her arms. She wasn’t sure if he was lying about his wealth or not, but at this point, she was starting to think he might not be. And if that was the case… how the hell did he amass that much fortune in such short time of being a curse master? She has been one for more than a century and she did not dare to make the claims he made. More importantly, unlike the others, she knew his background better than anyone. He came from nothing. That was what made all of this even more baffling.

Ace didn’t even bother answering her. Instead, he just rolled his eyes, silently broadcasting his contempt—almost as if he was pitying her for being poorer than him.

"Sorry, not interested," Evil Eyes was the first to reject Ace’s offer. Though tempting, Demon7’s innate curse tool was far too valuable to give up. In the World of Curses, strength came first—wealth was secondary.

"Not interested," Matthews echoed, shutting him down without hesitation.

She had plans for the Sky-tier innate curse tool—specifically, as payment for Janice’s help with her daughter’s curse initiation ceremony. That was the real reason she agreed to this risky hunt in the first place.

As a C.I.B. agent, any innate curse tool she obtained while on the job technically belonged to the government. Instead of keeping the loot, she’d receive merits—a currency she could exchange for regulated resources. But the innate curse tools were way more valuable than the measly merits the C.I.B. handed out in return.

That was one of the grimmest drawbacks of being a C.I.B. agent. And Ace knew it. In fact, it was one of the biggest reasons he opposed the idea of ever joining them.

"See? Just fork over one of your Sky-tier innate curse tools already," Delores huffed, clearly pissed at him for his contemptuous eye roll earlier. "My patience is wearing thin."

"No. I need them," Ace shot back, stubborn as ever. His eyes flicked toward her before he tilted his head slightly, enquiring, "Is there an auction nearby? I’ll win one there and trade it for the Leprechaun Scope."

There was no way he was giving up either of his Sky-tier innate curse tools. And there was definitely no way he was letting go of the Leprechaun Scope. So, he had no choice but to publicly flaunt his wealth—despite the dangers that came with it.

"You’re a Mortal-tier curse master. At best, you can use a Knight-tier curse tool. What the hell do you even need two Sky-tier innate curse tools for?" Delores asked, eyeing him with clear exasperation as he stubbornly clung to his stance.

She didn’t forget to roll her eyes at him either—full of contempt for a measly Mortal-tier curse master acting this entitled.

Was she being petty? Well, in her defense, Ace started it.

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"Oh my god, am I not entitled to some privacy?" Ace snapped, throwing up his hands in frustration. "Do I have to spill every little detail about my life to you guys? I don’t see you sharing everything about you with me."

It had been one hell of a night, and in just a few hours, more of his secrets had been dragged into the open than he was comfortable with. He’d had enough of sharing.

"No. You’re weak. You’re entitled to nothing," Delores growled. Before he could react, she grabbed him by the collar, ripping him straight from Matthews’s grip. His flannel shirt tore in the process, but she didn’t care.

Lifting him effortlessly by the neck, she stared him down, her tone deadly as she asked, "Now tell me—are you entitled to privacy?"

Ace struggled to breathe under her iron grip, but of course, he still hadn’t lost his sense of humor. The moment Delores loosened her grip just enough for him to speak, he chuckled—his voice hoarse, but mocking as ever.

"I love that you’re taking your role as my mentor so seriously," he rasped, his lips curling into a cheeky grin, "but I’d love it even more if you focused on the other lessons we talked about earlie—guh—"

Delores tightened her grip again, nearly crushing his throat. Lucky for him, she still owed him for saving her life. Otherwise, considering the mischief he’d been up to—and Delores’s temper—Matthews would probably be making a grim phone call to his family right now, arranging to send them whatever was left of him.