100\% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full?-Chapter 371 - Ledger

The Starforge staff swallowed once, then began.

"After we finished the delivery in the Southern Region, we were preparing to return. The route was clean. The sky was clean. Then..."

He glanced toward the horizon as if he could still hear it.

"The air detonated."

Lucien’s eyes narrowed.

"It did not sound like thunder," the man continued. "It sounded like the world’s lungs bursting. Like a mountain erupting inside the atmosphere."

A few of the returning crew shifted uneasily.

"We felt the pressure wave even from far away," another said.

Lilith’s expression sharpened.

The man continued.

"At first we thought it was an enemy assault. But then we saw movement. Multiple factions rushed in that direction."

Lucien asked softly.

"And your group did not join?"

"We could not," the man admitted. "Our mission was complete. We were not sanctioned to chase disturbances."

He looked down.

"But rumors traveled faster than us," he added. "Before we boarded, people were already talking. One faction claimed a small world revealed itself."

Silence thickened around Lucien.

Small world.

The phrase was a key turning in a lock.

The man continued, voice lower now.

"And on the way back... we saw them."

Lucien’s throat tightened.

"People," the man said. "With similar features as you, Benefactor."

The staff went on.

"The humans escaped. They were fast and desperate. They vanished into the terrain before anyone could corner them. But the factions did not leave."

His expression tightened.

"They formed a ring. Waiting. Like hunters waiting for prey to run out of breath."

Lucien stared past him.

Small world. Humans. Factions circling.

Lucien’s mind moved rapidly.

If a small world had opened, another Liberator had done it. Someone like Marie. Someone with the strength to split reality’s seam. Someone carrying the kind of value that turned sects into wolves.

And that someone’s Origin Core fragment... It could not be allowed to fall into enemy hands.

And there was another pull beneath it all.

A small world’s opening was a wound in reality.

Lucien might finally uncover a path or at least a clue leading him home.

His breath hitched and then steadied.

Everything aligned too cleanly.

Lucien froze.

Then he heard Lilith’s voice.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Lucien blinked once and looked at her.

He shook his head slightly as if shaking off a dream.

"Sister, let’s continue," he said calmly.

Lilith then dismissed the others with brief order to rest.

The moment the last of them had withdrawn, Lucien was already moving.

He returned to the formation points he had reinforced, checking each disc.

His hands did not tremble but his mind moved like a blade.

Leaving Starforge meant letting the vision breathe.

Staying meant losing the humans and losing the wound in reality that might be his only clue.

But Lucien had many methods at his disposal.

He could build a third path.

Lilith watched him work with narrowed eyes.

He moved too quickly, too much like someone trying to outrun a prophecy.

"Brother," she said quietly, "is this because of the vision?"

Lucien looked at her.

His mouth curved faintly.

"Do not worry," he said. "Everything will go well."

Lilith did not like that sentence.

It sounded like the kind of promise people made right before a funeral.

But Lucien had already turned away.

He finished the last reinforcement with a single drop of ancient beast blood.

The formation accepted it.

The light sank into the barrier like a new layer of bone.

Then Lucien returned to his room.

•••

He closed the door.

Just then—

A shift pressed against the edge of his awareness.

Lucien’s gaze sharpened.

Someone was calling him.

He stepped inside his divine energy core.

Lucien blinked once and appeared before the Abyssal One.

It was not sleeping anymore.

Its vast eyes were open, staring directly at him.

Lucien held himself steady.

The Abyssal One finally spoke.

"You do not require my tongue to understand what you are trying to do, right?" it said.

Lucien’s brow lifted slightly.

The Abyssal One’s eyes narrowed by a fraction, interested.

"You have brushed the ledger," it continued. "And the ledger remembers every finger."

Lucien’s spine tightened.

The Abyssal One exhaled, and the sound was not breath.

It was the sensation of depth rearranging.

"You have seen a thread," it said. "And now you seek to pull it aside."

A pause.

"Do you believe Fate is a person who writes stories?"

Lucien did not answer.

The Abyssal One’s voice deepened.

"Fate is not an author. Fate is record."

Its gaze held him like gravity.

"And the one who keeps record is not a poet. It is not a god with ink."

Another pause, heavier.

"It is Causality. The law that demands that effects do not appear without cause. The law that counts."

Lucien’s eyes narrowed.

The Abyssal One continued.

"When you change a recorded line, the record does not weep. The record corrects."

Its eye gleamed faintly.

"Correction arrives as tribulation."

Lucien felt the warning settle into his bones.

"Even with your veil," the Abyssal One said, "you will be noticed. Not by eyes. By imbalance."

It tilted its head slightly.

"You have spent long effort hiding from the world’s attention. Why court it now?"

Lucien’s mouth curved faintly.

"Senior," Lucien said, "if Fate does not wish to be altered, it should not show itself."

The Abyssal One stared at him.

For a moment, the silence was so profound it felt like an answer.

Then the Abyssal One spoke again.

"You misunderstand," it said. "Seeing Fate is not Fate offering kindness."

Its tone sharpened.

"It is you stealing a glance at the ledger and paying with your own pages."

Lucien’s eyes flicked colder. "Then the ledger has no right to be offended."

The Abyssal One’s eye widened slightly.

A sound emerged. Not quite laughter but something close enough.

"Good," it rumbled. "At least you do not kneel."

It watched him, amused now.

"I ask why you do this?" the Abyssal One said. "You know the answer."

Lucien’s gaze held steady.

He paused, then spoke with the blunt truth.

"Because I can."

The Abyssal One’s amusement deepened.

"There is the spine," it said. "There is the arrogance."

Its eye narrowed again, and the voice rolled over Lucien.

"Then listen carefully, little maker."

A pause.

"Defying the ledger invites repayment."

Another pause.

"You may succeed," it said. "You may even succeed repeatedly."

Its gaze sharpened.

"But the repayment does not always arrive as defeat. Sometimes it arrives as cost. A missing ally. A delayed rescue. A victory that arrives one breath too late."

Lucien’s jaw tightened.

The Abyssal One’s tone softened by a fraction.

"I will not stop you," it said. "I will watch."

Its eye remained open.

"And if you live through the correction, you will have earned the right to call it defiance."

Lucien bowed slightly.

"Thank you for the warning, Senior," he said.

The Abyssal One settled.

Its gaze remained fixed as if it had finally found entertainment worthy of an ancient nothing.

"Go," it murmured.

•••

Soon, Lucien blinked toward the ancient beasts’ location.

He did not waste time.

He told them about the vision and the situation surrounding the humans.

When he finished, silence held the group for a moment.

Then Condoriano flexed his wings once, delighted.

"So the sky finally offers meat," the condor boomed. "Good. My feathers have grown bored."

Saber’s lips curled, showing crescent fangs.

"A hunt," he said. "At last."

Kira’s mandibles clicked softly.

"Change arrives," she said. "Then we sharpen ourselves with it."

Morveth’s gaze turned inward.

"The world repeats its cruelty," he said quietly. "But this time we are prepared."

Lucien nodded.

"Here is the plan," Lucien said.

He spoke clearly, assigning roles like a commander laying chess pieces.

"I will stay in Starforge," Lucien said. "Brother Condoriano and Brotherr Saber will remain with me. If the Alloykins come, they will not find an empty nest."

Condoriano laughed again. Saber simply nodded, already imagining teeth in metal.

Then Lucien turned to Morveth.

"Uncle Morveth," Lucien said, "you will go outside with Aerolith, sister Kira, and one of my split bodies."

Morveth’s eyes narrowed slightly. "To retrieve the humans."

"Yes," Lucien said.

Aerolith’s eyes widened instantly.

"Food?" she asked.

Lucien stared at her.

"Yes," he said evenly. "Better food. If you come back alive and you do not eat anyone important."

Aerolith nodded like a solemn soldier.

Kira’s mandibles clicked again, satisfied.

"Great. I want to see this era," she said. "Firsthand."

Morveth’s expression softened.

"So you think to place the weak inside my shell," he said. "A wandering shelter."

"Yes," Lucien said. "Your cohabitation is your strength. Use it. Let them live in you until the hunters cannot find their scent."

Morveth’s gaze turned distant, remembering a different kind of life.

Then he nodded once.

"Then I will carry them," he said. "And I will not allow them to be taken again."

Lucien exhaled.

He looked at each of them.

This was not leaving Fate alone.

This was writing over it with planning and teeth.

He did not know what Causality would demand in repayment.

But he would not accept the vision as law.

Not while he still had hands to move pieces.

Lucien’s eyes sharpened.

"Alright," he said quietly.

"Let us defy the ledger."