Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World-Chapter 276: Mission Hub

The white light of his promotion faded, and Adrian found himself in a world that was a universe away from the chaotic pits of the Bronze League. The Diamond League Lobby was not a waiting room; it was a sanctuary for gods.

The floor was made of a flawless, shifting liquid metal that solidified underfoot. The ceiling was gone, replaced by a direct, crystal-clear view of the real, star-filled cosmos outside the Nexus ring.

There were no booths, no queues. Instead, the space was organized into sleek, open-plan alcoves, each dedicated to a specific, high-level purpose: "Personal Armory," "Advanced Medical Synthesis," "Interstellar Transit."

The crowd was thin. There were perhaps fewer than a hundred beings in the entire massive hall. Each one radiated an aura of casual, planet-cracking power.

Adrian saw a being made entirely of sound waves conversing with a creature that looked like a sentient black hole contained in a force field. He ignored them as had already achieved his main goal. Now, Adrian didn’t need to fight anymore. There was only one place he needed to be.

He located it quickly: the Mission Hub.

It was a quiet, circular alcove dominated by a single, massive holographic globe of the galaxy. Adrian entered, finding it currently empty save for the attendant.

The being behind the floating obsidian desk was a Xylotl, but unlike the others he had seen, this one’s crystal body was a deep, royal purple, humming with a terrifyingly dense psionic energy.

"Welcome, Project_Prometheus," the Xylotl’s voice echoed directly in his mind, polite but distant. "Are you interested in receiving a mission?"

"Yes," Adrian replied aloud. "I want to go after a Void Beast."

The Xylotl gestured with a slender hand, and the holographic globe expanded, zooming in on several red-marked sectors. A list of available missions scrolled into view.

<Mission Class: B>

<Objective: Clear a horde of C-Rank Void Ravagers terrorizing the Zeta-9 Mining Colony.>

<Reward: 150,000 GC>

<Mission Class: B>

<Objective: Hunt and eliminate the Void Leviathan reported in the Nebulous Drift.>

<Reward: 200,000 GC>

<Mission Class: B>

<Objective: Intercept and destroy a Void-corrupted Comet on a collision course with Sector 4.>

<Reward: 180,000 GC>

Each mission came with a full tactical breakdown when you clicked to view further. It estimated enemy strength, environmental hazards, and restrictions.

Adrian scanned them, his mind working fast. These weren’t just hunts; they were opportunities. He marked a few that interested him, mostly those that involved Void Beasts.

He turned to the attendant. "Can I take on multiple missions at once?"

The Xylotl raised an eyebrow. "How many are we talking about?"

"Forty-one is okay," Adrian said calmly.

The attendant paused, taken aback by the sheer, staggering arrogance of the request. Most Diamond fighters took one mission a month.

"Accepting a mission does not mark it as exclusively yours," it explained coolly. "Other fighters are allowed to pursue your targets, especially if you delay. You are allowed to accept as many as you wish, but be warned: your Escort will stick with you until you have either completed your list, given up, or met your grave."

The mental voice turned cold on the last word. It was a clear threat.

"Right," Adrian ignored the tone. "What’s an Escort again?"

The alien ignored his question, its fingers dancing across its console. "Select your missions."

After the list was registered and synced to his PAD, Adrian was directed to a small, unassuming door at the back of the alcove. He entered a room that was little more than a metallic box, like an elevator. He waited there in silence for a few minutes.

Then, the door slid open, and another alien joined him.

It was a humanoid, with green skin, pointy ears, and a noticeably large forehead. He looked almost normal, deceptively mundane compared to the monsters in the lobby. But Adrian’s [Omnisense] screamed a warning the moment the being entered.

"Hey, Project_Prometheus," the alien said, his voice casual, almost bored. "I’m Greg. I’m your Escort for this run." He tapped a device on his wrist.

"My role is simple: I ensure you complete your missions appropriately without breaking any of the Concordat’s codes. Specifically, the codes regarding the appropriation of restricted materials."

’So that’s the way,’ Adrian thought. He had wondered how the Concordat prevented powerful fighters from simply pocketing the Void Crystals. The answer was simple: they sent a babysitter who was stronger than the fighter.

"Is this the usual protocol?" Adrian asked, testing the waters. "Or is it because I’m a Slum dweller?"

Greg chuckled dryly. "You’re a special case, kid, I’ll give you that. But fighters outside the Slums have Escorts too. Yours is just... a bit different." He gave Adrian a final, meaningful look that made it clear he wasn’t interested in further questions. 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

It might look difficult to achieve his goals with this watchdog breathing down his neck, but Adrian wasn’t intimidated. Outsmarting others was his specialty. What truly worried him was something else entirely.

He tried to gauge Greg’s strength. He pushed his [Omnisense] to its limit, trying to find the bottom of the alien’s power.

He found nothing.

It wasn’t that Greg had no power; it was that his power was so vast, so deep, that Adrian’s senses couldn’t even find the edges of it. It was like standing on the shore and trying to measure the depth of the ocean with a ruler.

This casual, green-skinned man was in a whole different league of existence. The truth felt harsh. Despite his breakthrough, despite his victories... he really was just a fledgling.

"Come with me, Project_Prometheus," Greg said, tapping a panel on the wall. "Let’s go choose your ship."

Before Adrian could react, the floor dropped out from under them, and they descended rapidly into the depths.

The descent was very quick, and Adrian almost didn’t feel it. When the doors finally hissed open, the sterile silence was shattered by the deep, rhythmic thrum of antimatter engines.

They stepped out onto a high catwalk, and Adrian’s breath caught in his throat.