Slime Evolution

Chapter 309 - Isaac Reaction



Chapter 309: 309 - Isaac Reaction

NunuNote: Sorry for being away for so many days—I had food poisoning and was basically stuck going back and forth between my bed and the bathroom for a week (I won’t go into details about why I’m in pain so I don’t gross you out XD), but I’m still experiencing severe cramps. At least now I can sit down and focus on the story to write again, so we’re back on track, everyone—thanks for the kind words <3.

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At the top of one of Aethelgard’s stone towers, inside a luxurious conference room that exuded the wealth of this world’s human nobility, the atmosphere was one of great excitement.

Isaac Vance, the prodigy heir to the Vance Group, sat at the head of a black oak table, eyeing the stack of physical documents in front of him with a mixture of impatience and satisfaction.

Around the table, the leaders of the Vance Guild were discussing the final details of the operation that was set to cement Isaac’s position as Elysium’s number one player, at least for the next few weeks or months.

"The information is solid, Young Master," Martha, Isaac’s assistant, remarked as she adjusted the magical privacy device hovering over the table. "The group of independent scouts who located the target has signed all Level 5 confidentiality protocols. We paid 20 million credits in cash for this tip. The Level 15 Elite Wind Tiger has been spotted in a remote valley in the Ice Mountains, an eight-hour forced march from here."

Isaac drummed his fingers on the table, feeling the Mana coursing through his veins in a way that only further heightened the young man’s euphoria. "Twenty million for a spawn location is a small investment considering the return in global prestige. Tell me, what’s the status of our vanguard? Are Ivan and Bella still lost in their starting villages and insignificant forests?"

"From what our informants have told us—though the information may not be 100% accurate—Ivan is focused on recruiting scouts en masse, and he’s having great success with it; the salary he’s offering is practically irresistible. That may seem like a good thing for him, but we estimate that if his Guild can’t turn a profit within 6 months, that might be the end of the road for him." One of the deputy leaders replied, consulting a terminal.

"And as for Isabella, reports say she hasn’t been spotted in any medium-sized cities yet. Either she’s with them—and likely hopelessly behind our progress in Aethelgard—or she simply hasn’t been found yet..."

A cold smile spread across Isaac’s face. He stood up and walked over to the glass window overlooking the bustling town square. "What about additional support? The Wind Tiger isn’t an ordinary monster. The danger posed by a Level 15 Elite is exponential for players who have just reached Levels 13 and 14, like the members of our guild."

"We’ve already taken care of that, sir," Martha explained professionally. "We’ve hired 100 independent mercenaries, offering $20,000 credits to each one.

Their contract is clear: they’ll act as cannon fodder for us, draining the Tiger’s mana and absorbing its area-of-effect attacks, serving as a human shield so that our elite Level 14 players can land critical hits without risking their lives."

Isaac nodded, satisfied with the logic behind the battle plan.

Spending three million credits on 150 disposable mercenaries was a brilliant strategy to ensure that the Vance Guild’s vanguard wouldn’t suffer Elysium’s death penalty, thereby preserving the levels of their actual players.

"What about the informants?" Isaac asked, turning abruptly. "Do we have any guarantee that they didn’t sell the same ’leak’ to other guilds?"

The person in charge of the guild’s intelligence division stepped forward, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "They signed a binding non-disclosure agreement with financial ruin clauses, sir. If a single syllable about the Wind Tiger leaks before we carry out the takedown, their lives in the real world will be ruined. Their families will lose their housing permits, and they’ll be exiled to the polluted industrial sectors in less than 24 hours—if they’re lucky."

Isaac let out a proud laugh upon hearing such good news. "Excellent. Control over fear is always more effective than control over gold. Prepare our new mounts and supplies. I want this expedition of ours ready by tomorrow, and the worldwide announcement of the first Level 15 Elite kill under the name of our Vance Guild splashed across all of Elysium!"

The meeting was coming to an end, and the atmosphere of victory was incredible.

The leaders began gathering their belongings, ready to coordinate the army of mercenaries and scouts they had hired in the city, ensuring that everyone was trustworthy and that there would be no sabotage.

Isaac gazed up at Elysium’s digital sky, imagining the glory that awaited him.

However, the very millisecond he placed his hand on the doorknob to leave, the air around everyone present seemed to freeze with the familiar alert sound.

A global announcement siren echoed, not just in their ears, but directly into the soul of every Player connected to the game.

[Congratulations to Astralis Requiem for killing Elysium’s first Level 15 Elite Monster!]

The silence that fell over the conference room was deathly, broken only by the rhythmic sound of Isaac’s labored breathing.

His face shifted from confidence and excitement to a purple hue of rage in a matter of seconds. The veins on his forehead bulged, pulsing with Mana that seemed on the verge of exploding.

"ASTRALIS... REQUIEM... AGAIN?!" Isaac roared loudly, his voice booming like thunder, causing Martha to instinctively flinch.

In a fit of blind rage, Isaac Vance grabbed the heavy black oak conference table and, imbued with the physical strength of a Level 13 Player, hurled it against the stone wall.

The impact was devastating; the wood shattered into a thousand pieces, and deep cracks appeared in the wall.

"HOW?! HOW CAN THEY BE HUNTING LEVEL 15 ELITES WHILE WE’RE STILL PLANNING?! HOW MANY FUCKING CANNON FODDER DID THEY HIRE FOR THIS, DAMN IT?! AND WHO IS THIS PIECE OF SHIT CALLED HALON?!" He shouted, punching the wall until his knuckles bled, ignoring the pain as hatred consumed his mind.


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