A smell of burnt fabric filled the office.
The boss’s handmade Italian custom suit trousers were suffering; the cigar butt was stubbornly sizzling against his thigh.
“Ah!!” The delayed pain signal finally reached his brain.
The boss jumped up like a fat rat with its tail stepped on, frantically slapping his crotch in a comically ridiculous manner.
But at this moment, neither the supervisor who hadn’t put his shoes on properly nor the beautiful secretary standing at the door with a look of terror dared to laugh.
Because the numbers on that tablet screen were simply terrifying.
Every digit flickering there didn’t represent ordinary numbers; it was cold, hard cash—astronomical figures that their company couldn’t earn in ten years, even if they worked themselves to death making crappy games.
“How much did you say?!” Ignoring the burn on his leg, the boss grabbed the supervisor by the collar, his eyes bulging with a mix of bloodshot veins and greed.
“One hundred million?!
In ten minutes?!
Yen or USD?!” “Ye…
Yen!
But this is just the beginning, Boss!
This is only the data from the initial top-ups!” The supervisor was being strangled to the point of suffocation, his face turning the color of pig liver as he desperately waved the tablet in his hand.
“Look!
The servers are about to explode!
Thousands of people are trying to top up every second!” “It’s practically a money-swallowing beast!
And the reviews are overwhelmingly positive!
Everyone’s calling them ‘waifu’!” The boss let go, and the supervisor collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily.
The boss tremblingly took the tablet, watching the data line soaring into the sky, his breathing as heavy as a bellows.
Sage.
He had heard his subordinates mention this name just two days ago.
That poor kid living in a dilapidated apartment, who hadn’t turned in a draft for months and whose games were more boring than an old lady’s foot-binding wraps.
He remembered what he had said back then.
“Tell him to get lost!
Don’t let that trash hog our server resources!
Terminate the contract!
Terminate it immediately!” The boss felt his vision go dark, and tears of regret almost burst out on the spot.
That was a money tree!
That wasn’t trash; that was the God of Wealth descending to earth!
If only he hadn’t been so heartless then, if only he had taken one more look at his demo…
right now, even half of this money—even ten percent—would have been his!
“Quick!
Call him, now!” The boss roared hysterically at the secretary.
“Contact him!
No matter what it takes!
You must get in touch with Mr.
Su!” “Tell him it was a misunderstanding!
It was just his subordinates being incompetent!” “We’ll give him the best contract!
No!
Give him shares directly!
Make sure he signs the publishing rights for this game over to us!” “If you can’t sign him, you’re all packing your bags and getting lost tomorrow!
Go clean toilets!” The entire company was instantly thrown into chaos.
Everyone started looking for the contact information they had previously tossed into the trash like madmen.
…
Meanwhile, in the city center dozens of kilometers away.
In the city’s most exclusive wealthy district, inside a penthouse filled with modern artistic flair.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows was the night view of the entire city.
Inside, the scent of expensive incense drifted through the air—a delicate fragrance blended from several precious flowers and herbs that could calm the mind.
A man wearing a silk bathrobe, with skin more delicate than a woman’s and features so exquisite they were beyond reproach, sat elegantly by a white piano.
Sweet Mask.
A-Class Rank 1, a superhero who actually possessed S-Class strength, and the perfect idol in the hearts of thousands of young girls.
He had an almost pathological obsession with “beauty.” In this world full of ugly Monsters, he felt that only by completely eradicating ugliness could true beauty be ushered in.
“What a boring day.” His long fingers casually struck a few notes on the keys, his gaze somewhat vacant.
Recently, those Monsters had been appearing more and more, in all sorts of strange and disgusting forms that made him want to retch.
Although killing them was easy, the visual pollution left him feeling weary.
“Isn’t there anything that truly catches the eye?” He casually picked up the limited edition tablet resting on the piano stand.
He habitually browsed social media to see the praise from his fans; it was a form of pastime.
Suddenly.
A trending topic caught his eye.
#True Otherworld Scenery# #This Is the Fighting Stance Justice Should Have# #Sage’s Masterpiece# “Hmm?” Sweet Mask’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Scenery?
Masterpiece?” “Such sensationalist marketing buzzwords are truly disgusting.” He intended to swipe past it, but his extremely fastidious aesthetic sense inadvertently caught a glimpse of a corner of the cover image.
It was a screenshot from a game.
Oathkeeper’s Point under the moonlight, where the Anemo element condensed into a breeze blowing through dandelions, and the distant starry sky was pure and profound.
No blood.
No slime.
Only an extremely pure, harmonious beauty that made one feel as if their Soul was being cleansed with a single glance.