Infinite wealth In A New World-Chapter 451: Intruder!

[The Deep Slums — The Warehouse]

​The group of four men led Regina deeper into the decaying heart of the slums, where the streetlights were all smashed and the air smelled of wet ash. They stopped in front of a monolithic, rusted warehouse that looked more like a tomb than a building.

​"As I told you on the way," the muscular man said, lowering his gaze to her. His voice had lost its earlier warmth, replaced by a cold, transactional tone.

​"You will meet some kids in there. They are sick, so they’ll say anything to you... Don’t believe their nonsense, ok?"

​Regina, clutching her gold coins and her bread, nodded her head obediently. The slim man stepped forward and pulled the heavy iron door open wide for her, the hinges screaming in protest.

​"You can go inside now," he said.

​Regina nodded once more and walked into the darkness of the warehouse. As soon as her small frame crossed the threshold, the slim man slammed the door shut and threw the heavy bolt, locking it from the outside.

​"That is taken care of," the third man smiled, his eyes already glazed over with visions of the bags of money they would soon hold.

​"Not yet. We have to make sure no one followed us." The muscular man turned his head back toward the street, a sharp frown cutting across his face. "I have a feeling we are being followed," he added, his hand drifting toward a hidden blade at his waist.

​"Followed?"

​The other three were stunned, their celebration cut short.

​In the First Realm, the laws of existence were fundamentally different. There was no trace of the celestial, spirit, mana, or primordial energies found in the higher worlds. Instead, the inhabitants relied on Life Force.

​The Essence of Life Force

Unlike mana, which is harvested from the atmosphere and cultivated, Life Force is a finite resource born within the physical body. It is the raw vitality of the soul. Because it cannot be "gathered," only a tiny fraction of the population is born with a high enough reserve to weaponize it.

​Those who can harness this energy are known as Warriors. They are graded on a descending scale from Lv100 to Lv1. In this world, the lower the number, the more terrifying the power—with Lv1 being the pinnacle of human capability.

​In this group of four traffickers, only the muscular man possessed this inherent power. Being a Lv50 Warrior, he was the anchor of the group and the reason they had survived the brutal slum politics for so long.

​"Is it another warrior?" the slim man asked, pulling out a silenced pistol and frantically scanning the shadows of the alleyways.

​"It’s not human, and it’s also not a warrior." The muscular man stepped out in front of the group, his hands stretched to the sides to shield them.

​"All of you, stay back... Although I don’t know his level, I know I can take him on!!" he yelled, his voice echoing off the brick walls. He whipped his head to the right, then the left, his senses screaming.

​"He is... Up!"

​He snapped his head toward the roof of the building opposite the warehouse. There, standing at the very edge of the shingles, was a figure with his arms folded casually behind his back. Under the night’s snowing sky, the figure’s face was a shadow—except for two piercing, Golden Eyes that glowed with a predatory light.

​"Who? Who is that?" the second man asked, his voice trembling.

​"He is the one who has been following us," the muscular man growled, staring up at the stranger.

​"I am surprised you detected me, or perhaps not, let me guess, a gut feeling...? Seems not all of you are brain-dead," the figure said, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. He turned his head slightly toward the slim man.

​"I let some see me on purpose, but instead, he took it as an illusion..." He turned his golden gaze back to the muscular leader.

"As a Lv50 Warrior, haven’t you wondered why you couldn’t sense my aura back then?"

​"Back then?"

​The other three turned to the slim man, their eyes wide with realization.

​"So when you said you saw something in the alley, it was him?" one asked.

​"It seems like it." The slim man nodded, his knuckles white as he tightened the silencer on his gun, his gaze fixed on the figure. "No matter. I will just kill him and get this over with." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

​"Don’t." The muscular man stopped him with a firm hand, his instinctual fear finally starting to outweigh his pride. He looked up at the rooftop. "You... What level are you on?" he asked, his voice cracking.

​The figure moved his gaze down to the empty street separating them, then raised his head toward the falling snow.

​"You don’t need to know that." He lowered his gaze back to the four men. "Because you’ll be dead soon."

​The muscular leader gritted his teeth and hissed at the third man beside him: "Make a call to the Boss!! We need backup! Tell him a Red Threat level has appeared in the slum hideout!"

​"The Boss? Really? Is he that powerful?" The third man was stunned, but seeing the pure terror on the Lv50 leader’s face, he nodded and frantically pulled out his phone. "On it!"

​"The Boss." The figure fixed his golden gaze on the phone, shrugged, and then—to the absolute shock of the men—he simply sat down on the edge of the rooftop, dangling his legs.

​"I will wait for your Boss. I hope he puts up a fight."

​"He... Sat down?" The four were paralyzed.

​The figure’s absolute confidence was more terrifying than any weapon. The muscular man gasped, the blood draining from his face as he stared at those golden eyes.

​"What happened?" the others asked, seeing their leader’s sudden collapse.

​"No... No... It can’t be possible!" The muscular man took a stumbling step back, his entire body trembling with primal fear.

​"It’s impossible."