Nioh’s new residence was nothing to boast about—a cramped tallic chamber with a cot, a sink, and a storage unit. Barely more than a cell. The water ran ice-cold, but he welcod it, letting the sharp chill wash away the gri of his journey. More than that, it jolted him into focus.
"Why is there a difference in strength between Corebinders of the sa level?"
That was the question Grims had left him with. A key to sothing deeper.
Nioh sat on the cot, his fingers drumming against his knee as he thought it over. He had fought plenty of people at his level before, but so had felt leagues beyond others. Was it battle experience? Advanced techniques? Biocore tiers? No, none of those alone explained the massive gaps in power he had encountered.
"Do you have an answer?" he asked, glancing at Ekoh.
"I do," Ekoh replied, his voice calm, knowing. "But it would be best if you figure it out yourself."
"Tch. Whatever." Nioh leaned back with a sigh. "I’ll put it on the back burner for now. Priority is earning Conqueror Points."
He pulled up the Citadel’s online catalog and started scrolling.
"I need a high-quality biocore to complete my five-star fusion."
A few taps later, he found what he was looking for.
"A neutral S-tier Biocore sells for... four million CP?!" His eye twitched.
He clenched his jaw. "Might as well hunt the damn thing myself."
Shaking his head, he switched to the weapons section. He had so skill in crafting, but not at an industrial level. His expertise lay in custom weapons, tailored designs. The problem was, without a fully equipped lab and a solid reputation, that idea was just a pipe dream.
"You could always get in touch with the Gold Pervert," Ekoh suggested. "That would make things easier."
A shiver crawled down Nioh’s spine. "Nah. Just thinking about eting that guy again makes my skin crawl."
He kept searching. Eventually, sothing caught his eye.
"There’s a weapon design lab for sale." His excitent was short-lived as he saw the price. "Five million CP. Ridiculous."
"How about you contact the seller and work out a deal?"
Nioh exhaled through his nose. "Seems like my only option."
Without wasting ti, he quickly created an account on the Citadel portal under the userna: Ekoh.
Ekoh: Hi! @labrat01 I’m interested in your weapon design lab. Why are you selling?
Labrat01: Looking for new horizons!
Ekoh: Can we et? Send the address of the lab.
Labrat01: Ethereal Weapons, 5th District.
Nioh cracked his neck and stood up. "Guess we’re going shopping."
-
The lab was deep in one of the Citadel’s unoccupied districts, a forgotten part of the city swallowed by shadows.
No wonder the business is bad, Nioh thought as he navigated the desolate streets. Even with a locator, it had taken him nearly two hours to find the place.
When he finally arrived, he was greeted by a neon sign that flickered erratically, displaying the words Ethereal Weapons in gaudy, pulsating light. The entire setup looked more like a seedy nightclub than a professional lab.
Nioh sighed, shaking his head in disappointnt before stepping inside.
The interior, however, was a different story. It was much larger than he expected, the walls insulated against both noise and temperature. To the left, a simple waiting area with a couch and counter. To the right, a transparent eting room. The space had been designed with care—whoever built it had put real effort into it.
Then she appeared.
Nioh had imagined a grizzled old weaponsmith, but instead, a tall, curvy woman in a lab coat and glasses strode into the room. Even under the coat, her muscular fra was impossible to miss. Her long, curly red hair and piercing gaze carried a natural, almost predatory allure. But what really caught Nioh’s eye—unintentionally—was her chest, which happened to be right at his eye level.
Her wrist token flashed. Level 3 Seed.
"You’re a new Seed?" she said, unimpressed. "You’re way in over your head. That kind of money isn’t sothing you can afford."
Nioh pulled his gaze away, adjusting his stance. "I know. I’m not here to buy. I have a proposition."
She scoffed. "Even if you’re an anomaly, I doubt you have anything to offer ."
Nioh ignored the jab and glanced around. "This is a good lab. Well-maintained. The owner must have put a lot into it. But you’re not a scientist, are you?" He leaned forward, eyes sharp. "So can I et the real owner?"
The woman arched a brow. "Oh? What gave away?"
"The calluses on your hands," Nioh replied without hesitation. "Too rough for a scientist. You’re more suited to being a butcher than a weaponsmith."
For the first ti, she looked genuinely intrigued. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him. "You’ve got a good eye. This lab belonged to my husband. He died not long ago. I’m just cleaning house."
"My condolences." Nioh nodded. "I like the place, but I don’t have the funds. So here’s my offer—invest in , and I’ll turn this lab into a profitable business."
She leaned back, arms crossed. "You’re still wet behind the ears. This is the Citadel. People here are warriors. They live and die on the battlefield. Do you really think they’d trust their weapons to a kid? The only valuable business here is buying from the armory."
"That’s because you’re thinking about it wrong." Nioh’s voice was steady. Confident. "In an environnt this competitive, no one wants another generic weapon. They want an edge. And I can give them that."
She narrowed her eyes. "Why should I believe you?"
Nioh smirked. "I’ll put my life on the line as collateral. As Grims’ ntee, that must count for sothing." He paused, then added, "Or I can prove it by customizing your weapon."
She didn’t react right away. Instead, she pulled sothing from the void—a massive war hamr. A single shake sent a deep thrum through the air.
"This is a Thousand Gods series hamr," she said. "Forged from condensed deep-sea tal and a dark water conductor." She rested it against her shoulder with ease. "It’s the heaviest standard weapon on the market. Are you saying you can do better?"
"No." Nioh t her gaze. "I’m saying I can make it better suited for you."
"How?" she asked, skeptical.
Nioh tucked his hair behind his ear, revealing the burn scars on his face. "For you to wield sothing this heavy, your strength must be absurd. I can only assu your Biocore ability amplifies it further." He tapped his fingers against the armrest. "But with a weapon this massive, your speed takes a hit. And based on your fra, your long limbs should give you better reach. You probably picked this hamr for its weight, but you’re better suited for sothing more modular within the sa class."
Her eyes flickered with interest. "You think you can fix that?"
"I know I can." Nioh leaned forward. "I’ve got the right materials here. Give a day, and I’ll make it into sothing that fits you."
She studied him for a long mont before suddenly tossing the hamr at him.
The weight was unreal—Nioh barely had ti to react before it crashed into his arms, slamming him into the ground. His bones scread under the pressure.
"If you fail," she said coolly, "I’ll kill you. Even if Grims kills after."
With that, she turned and walked out, leaving Nioh buried under the sheer weight of his own gamble.
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