Chapter 945: Please Pay The Sum

945 Please Pay The Sum

'Jake Wilderth... If he was indeed the one who held the Purple Hell, it shouldn't be too difficult to persuade him to relinquish it.' Mr. Balus thought optimistically as he placed his hand on the Yellow Cube, entering his destination.

Even if he didn't know Jake's exact coordinates, as long as he had his bracelet and the Oracle System, he could locate him. Of course, that was assuming he had a high enough Oracle Rank.

Alas, he quickly realized things were not going as he'd hoped. For after placing his hand on the Yellow Cube, he wasn't teleported anywhere...

"WTF!" Mr. Balus cursed, pounding the Yellow Cube with his fist, immediately receiving a warning from a New Earth Oracle Drone and a small fine of 300 Aether points.

Vexed and utterly perplexed, he could only mutter under his breath, "Don't tell me he's blacklisted me? Aren't Vexa and him supposed to be on good terms?"

Unfortunately for him, his fears were wellfounded. That was precisely what had just transpired.

Jake, who had just managed to shake off Hade, Asfrid, and Luxia, but not Will, suddenly received a message from Xi in his head, 'Someone named Balus requested access to our Yellow Cube.' She informed him in a dull voice as if discussing the morning weather.

"Oh? Doesn't ring a bell. What did you do?" Jake asked distractedly as he frantically pressed a button on his interface to purchase a million more Oracle Constructors. Costing only 10M Aether points, he had "only 10 trillion" to spend.

I l blacklisted him.'

Jake paused momentarily, intrigued.

"Why?"

'He's from Mirror Vanguard.' Xi smirked, then quickly continued upon seeing his expression change, I l know what you're going to say, but my instinct tells me it's best to avoid him as long as possible.'

Jake didn't immediately grasp what she was referring to, but remembering that Vexa had ended up in Ruby's stomach, who in turn had ended up in his, he realized the problem at once.

"Damn it!" He exclaimed, stopping what he was doing. "They want their Purple Hell back."

It would obviously not be an issue if the Gold Aether Artifact were still in his possession, but regrettably, that was no longer the case. Even if they somehow bought it back at full price, he l d be unable to regurgitate it.

Aware of the bullet he'd just dodged, Jake promptly gave a thumbs up to his reliable Oracle "Good job," He praised her with a beaming smile. If she were in her Familiar body, he would have surely embraced her.

Alas, the recipient of his praise responded with cold sarcasm, 'Hmmph. If you want to hug someone, just ask Lucia.'

Still stranded on New Earth, Mr. Balus had to face the facts, his mood stormy.

'This is going to complicate things.' The alien sighed with a weary, crestfallen expression, asking the Yellow Cube to teleport him to the next nearest Yellow Cube to his destination.

He still harbored a faint hope of landing on a Floating Island a few kilometers from his target's, but his expression darkened another notch upon discovering that the spaceborne island he had just arrived at was surrounded by nothing but the void of space, with not even an asteroid or another star in sight. In lieu of inhabitants, a few hundred aliens with cute antennae on either side of their foreheads were staring at him with confusion.

Remembering that, according to his information, Jake had once been as human as the citizens of New Earth he had just left behind, Mr. Balus's shoulders sagged in defeat, the alien in the suit temporarily admitting to his own shortcomings.

Reluctantly, he knew he had no choice but to contact Vexa. The Mirror Vanguard branch established on B842 was still in its infancy, and he lacked the courage to disturb his colleagues on their mission.

Indeed, for an Evolver from another planet to visit B842, which still enjoyed diplomatic immunity for just under four years, one generally needed approval from the Oracle Overseer, which required an ironclad reason.

Mirror Vanguard had its ways to send its agents to B842, but the motive and validation by the Oracle Overseer could not be entirely bypassed. To remain aboveboard, the Evolvers dispatched to the location had arrived invoking the motive that best represented them: "Eliminate the Digestor threat."

Every one of Mr. Balus's superiors, those who could unravel his dilemma with a mere flick of their fingers, were presumably ensnared in the ferocious maw of a Digestor swarm, gambling with their lives each fleeting second. Contacting them for such a trivial reason was utterly taboo.

Not to mention that contacting a colleague over such long distances wasn't cheap, even for a Seventh-Ordeal Evolver like him...

Fortunately, there was the Faction Chat for that, a legal loophole that allowed free communication regardless of distance. The Mirror Vanguard sub-faction in which Vexa and Prysm belonged managed the elites of planets B835 to B845. A Seventh-Ordeal Evolver like Mr. Balus naturally had a place there.

However, when the alien checked the Faction Chat that he seldom consulted, his eyebrows immediately furrowed, noticing an unusual irregularity. No faction member had said anything for several hours, which was nearly impossible.

Under normal circumstances, there were always a few chatterboxes and keyboard warriors lurking on the chat, commenting on everything and anything. This aroused his suspicion, but he didn't dwell on it further. Calmly, he mentally drafted his message and sent it to the Faction Chat, pinging Vexa.

A notification immediately dashed his hopes.

[Your message could not be sent. To ensure your message reaches each faction member able to consult the Faction Chat, please pay the sum of XXXX Aether points.]

With eyes bulging in sheer incredulity and his jaw agape, dangling inches from the ground, Mr. Balus clutched at his chest, seeking solace for his throbbing heart. The astronomical sum that had materialized before him threatened to seize his heart in its icy grip. This staggering figure eclipsed any he had ever seen in his entire life.

'What the hell is going on here?

One didn't need to be a genius to realize something was amiss. A Seventh-Ordeal Evolver typically had excellent instincts, or they wouldn't have survived this far. He prayed it was a temporary failure of the Oracle System that would be quickly fixed, but when his Oracle Al indicated it didn't understand what was happening either, he immediately prepared for the worst.

Regardless, did he intend to give up on his mission? Not at all. Unable to report to Vexa, he planned to treat this trip like a vacation.

He had already checked that the cost of Aether points would climb exponentially when trying to send a message to a faction member on another planet-ship. His colleagues on B842 were still reachable, even if it would undoubtedly cost him an arm and a leg.

His last resort was, of course, to contact his target directly. But who could guarantee, under the current circumstances, that his mission expenses would be reimbursed?

And so, without any remorse, the emissary decided to employ the most ancient method of communication: the spoken word. And for that, there weren't a thousand ways to proceed.

spaceship," Mr. Balus murmured with little hope, materializing a deep blue-armored spacecraft with a shape reminiscent of a short sword. "I hope his Floating Island isn't too far from here..."

Preparing himself a cocktail, the alien settled comfortably onto a divan in his ship, engaged the autopilot, and turned on the VR television. A lengthy journey through space of indeterminate duration was about to begin...

The following day...

When Xi l s voice, thankfully warmer than the day before, reminded Jake that the time for the mandatory ceremony he had to attend was fast approaching, his eyebrows twitched with irritation. Since his return from the Ordeal, he hadn't had a single moment to himself.

First, he had expanded his island, then upgraded the Faction, updated, and chosen the new Faction Skills, thinking he could finally enjoy a much-deserved vacation day, as was his tradition after every Ordeal. It was his way of rewarding himself and taking a breather.

Compared to his procrastinating and lazy temperament before, it was really not much to ask.

But apparently, even a day of peace was impossible. Thank God, Lucia hadn't tortured him by sticking to him all day. Perhaps it was her unquenchable thirst for victory, but simply seeing that his Floating Island was much larger than hers had convinced her to leave early. She couldn't expand her island as much, but she couldn't afford to fall too far behind either.

No, the one who had been a constant thorn in his side was, of course, Will. All the natives they had saved on Quanoth had eventually learned how to use their new bracelets and applied to join their Faction.

Naturally, the question of their accommodations arose. Although the islands of Will, Lucia, and Asfrid had the space and residences to accommodate a few thousand refugees, half a million inhabitants far exceeded their capacity.

Inevitably, this duty fell to Jake, the only one with an island large enough and pockets deep enough to host so many people at once.