Chapter 277: Paul, Pocket Dimension

Solomon eventually drifted to sleep after his morning workout at the corporate building. He woke up late in the evening to the sound of a soft knock on his bedroom door. Jasmine peeked her head inside.

"Mom and Dad are back," Jasmine announced cheerfully.

Solomon sat up and stretched his arms. "When did they get home? Are they closing the diner early today?"

"They just finished locking up the shop," Jasmine replied, skipping into the hallway. "They also brought home a bunch of leftovers from the diner for dinner!"

A short while later, the entire family sat down around the kitchen table to eat their evening meal.

Johan scooped a portion of mashed potatoes onto his plate and looked across the table at his son. "Where did you suddenly run off to this morning, Solomon? I was genuinely worried when you never returned to the diner."

"I just went for a long jog," Solomon lied smoothly, taking a bite of leftover chicken. "I overate when Mom kept bringing out all those side dishes. I needed to burn off the calories, but I ended up just coming straight home to sleep it off instead."

After finishing his meal, Solomon pushed his chair back. "I am going to take Barbaros for a walk."

Jasmine immediately jumped up from her seat. "I want to come with you!"

"No, you stay here tonight," Solomon declined, grabbing the dog’s leash from the hook by the door. "I am going for a really long walk. You will just get tired halfway through, and I am not carrying you all the way back while trying to handle Barbaros."

Jasmine pouted and crossed her arms, but she didn’t argue further.

Solomon clipped the leash onto the collar, and Barbaros happily trotted out the front door. The fluffy dog seemed incredibly excited, as it had clearly been a while since he was taken for a proper evening walk by Solomon.

A while later, Solomon reached the local neighborhood park. He had fully expected to see at least a few kids playing on the swings or parents chatting on the benches, but the park was completely empty, mirroring the eerie silence of the morning streets.

"No one is even stepping out of their houses because of the dungeon’s appearance," Solomon muttered to himself, looking around the deserted playground. "Why would they even do that? Do they not already know that monsters cannot leave the dungeon until a break officially occurs? And if a dungeon break were to actually happen, everyone in the city would know about it instantly because the collapsing portal sends massive magical shockwaves through the entire district."

He unclipped the leash, letting Barbaros run freely across the grass to enjoy himself. Solomon walked over to the swingset and sat down, slowly kicking his boots against the woodchips.

A few minutes later, a nervous shadow shifted near the edge of the park. The junior clerk stepped out from behind a large oak tree and stood a respectful distance away from the swings.

"I am here," the clerk announced quietly.

"I can see that," Solomon responded, continuing to swing gently.

An awkward silence settled over the empty playground.

"I realized I forgot to actually ask for your name," Solomon said, breaking the tension. "What is it?"

"Paul," the man answered, rubbing his hands together nervously.

"So, Paul," Solomon began, stopping the swing. "How did everything go with the authorities? Did the cops suspect anything, or did they ask you any questions that went off the script?"

Paul shook his head. "They asked a lot of questions, but I responded exactly as you instructed me to. They seized every single document and all the physical evidence of what the executives were doing in the basement. Since the incident involved a criminal massacre with hundreds of dead enforcers, they will likely just complete the standard bureaucratic formalities and close the case quickly. They have plenty of other active cases and dungeon breaks to worry about."

"Did you do the other thing I asked you to do?" Solomon inquired, leaning forward.

Paul nodded quickly. "Yes. I discreetly gave one hundred thousand dollars to every single person who was rescued from the basement, just as you ordered."

Solomon smiled and nodded in satisfaction. "That is good. So, what do you plan to do next?"

Paul’s shoulders slumped. He looked down at the grass, a profound sadness washing over his features. He genuinely had no idea what to do with his life now that the crippling debt and his corporate captors were gone. He could not say a single word in response.

"If you have nothing to do, I can give you a job that you might actually like," Solomon offered casually. "It might not be different from the administrative work you were doing at the financial company, but the working conditions will surely be infinitely better."

Paul looked up, his curiosity piqued but his expectations remaining incredibly low. "What kind of job?"

"Running a guild," Solomon responded.

Paul blinked in utter confusion. "What?"

Solomon grinned. "You will find out all the details soon enough."

Paul remained skeptical. He still did not fully trust the silver-haired teenager. Deep down, Paul felt like Solomon was simply using him as a convenient tool, fully expecting the boy to either discard him or kill him once his usefulness expired.

"What should I do with the rest of the vault contents currently stored inside my pocket dimension?" Paul asked, shifting his weight.

Solomon thought for a second. "I do not need any of it right now. But since your talent has a strict twenty-four-hour limit, you should probably just go home, pull everything out before the timer expires, and then store it all back inside in the morning to reset the clock. Just hold onto it until I contact you again."

Paul stared at the teenager in sheer disbelief. "Are you not afraid that I will just run away with all of this money?"

Solomon chuckled and shrugged his shoulders effortlessly. "It honestly does not matter to me. I would not care if you did. That money never belonged to me in the first place, so I would not be sad or worried about losing it."

That nonchalant response finally broke through Paul’s skepticism. For the first time since the bloodbath in the executive office, Paul began to trust the boy.

"You can go now," Solomon dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

Paul remained standing near the oak tree for a few seconds longer. He reached into his pocket, activating his dimensional talent, and pulled out a thick, sealed manila folder. He walked over and handed it directly to Solomon.

"This might be useful to you, since it directly involves the current affairs and the impending evacuation of District Six," Paul explained. "Richard asked me to store this file in my dimension for safekeeping since it was really important."

After handing over the file, Paul offered a respectful nod and left the park, disappearing into the quiet suburban streets.

Solomon looked at the manila folder. He broke the seal and opened the cover. The documents inside detailed a highly illegal, comprehensive real estate agreement forged between the financial company and the ’Six Savers’ guild—the guild officially responsible for protecting District Six.

According to the information Solomon had gathered the entire day, there were a total of seven guilds in ‌district six, and four of them closed recently just around the time the dungeon appeared. And out of the remaining three, two guilds merged, but they eventually lost the bid of the dungeon and it was now the responsibility of the Six Saver guild to clear it.

Solomon read through the twisted clauses and immediately realized what was actually going on.

The ’Six Savers’ guild had no intention of clearing the manifested dungeon. They were intentionally delaying the raid. The guild and the financial company were actively colluding to spread terror throughout District Six, using the impending threat of a dungeon break to force the residents and shop owners to evacuate their homes and abandon their businesses.

Once the district was completely empty and the property values crashed, the financial company planned to buy up the entire sector for pennies, effectively turning the entire district into the guild’s own private, corporate playground. And perhaps, sell it to someone willing to buy it from them at their price.

Solomon gripped the papers so tightly his knuckles turned white. A furious scowl completely overtook his features.

"I honestly should have expected a pathetic, cowardly scheme exactly like this," Solomon muttered, his silver eyes flashing with cold rage in the dark park. "Especially since the ’Six Savers’ are directly affiliated with ’The BlueYorker’s Shield’."