The 44th floor of the Grand Lexic Hotel in Jakarta does not exist on any digital elevator button. Accessing it requires a specific magnetic card held only by a handful of individuals with a net worth exceeding ten trillion rupiah. Behind a soundproof steel door lies a private hall the size of a basketball court, known as The Vault. Every surface—the walls, the ceiling, and the supporting pillars—is plated in five-centimeter-thick pure gold. The air inside is heavy, smelling of sharp metallic brine, Cuban cigars, and a synthetic perfume used to mask the rot lingering in the corners.
Bramantyo, a fifty-year-old man with folds of fat cascading down his neck, sat upon a throne carved from elephant ivory. He had just won a high-stakes bet worth ten billion rupiah in a single round. Piles of banknotes and gold coins were scattered before him like trash. Yet, Bramantyo's face showed no joy. His skin was a bruised grayish-blue. Thick, cold sweat poured from his forehead.
Beneath the thin, white skin of his abdomen, hard coin-sized lumps bulged and rotated at high speeds. These protrusions migrated from his stomach to his chest, stretching his skin to the point of tearing. These lumps were the physical manifestation of MAU (Money Astral Beings).
MAU (Money Astral Beings): Astral parasites born from the frequency of extreme human greed. These creatures lack a fixed physical form until they inhabit a host. Inside the body, they consume organic nutrients and replace them with a hardening, solid metal structure—slowly turning human internal organs into lethal chunks of gold or silver.
"It hurts... my stomach feels like it's being stirred by a steel drill," Bramantyo groaned. Every time he drew a breath, a sharp metallic clinking echoed within his chest. It was no illusion; it was the sound of coins beginning to solidify his lungs.
Suddenly, the temperature at the main entrance plummeted to freezing. The five-ton steel door, designed to withstand a grenade blast, began to warp. The hard steel abruptly softened, liquefied, and turned into molten silver. The silver fluid flowed across the marble floor, emitting white smoke, before miraculously hardening back into thousands of worthless silver coins.
A man stepped through the pile of silver. This was Enver Eraly. His appearance stood in stark contrast to the opulence of the room. His skin was as pale as porcelain untouched by the sun. He wore a pitch-black suit without a single wrinkle. Most striking of all was his black hair. It was incredibly long, trailing past his waist and dragging across the marble floor. It did not sway as he walked; it fell perfectly straight due to its immense mass, as if every strand were made of lead wire.
Enver's Hair: This hair functions as a "Vault of Sinful Memories." Every time Enver purifies an astral being, the negative energy and weight of the target's sins are absorbed into his hair. This causes it to grow permanently and increases its physical weight, exerting pressure on Enver's neck and spine every second.
"Bramantyo," Enver's voice was flat, devoid of emotion, yet possessed a resonance that made the room's glassware vibrate. "Your time of debt to the universe has come."
Bramantyo's eyes widened. "Who are you?! Guards! Kill him now!"
Ten guards in tactical gear, stationed in the corners, reacted instantly. Professional mercenaries, they unleashed a barrage of fire from submachine guns. Hundreds of nine-millimeter rounds tore through the air toward Enver's chest. However, before a single bullet could touch his clothing, the projectiles stopped dead in mid-air. The hot lead suddenly crumbled, turning into fine gold dust that fell to the floor like a rain of sand.
Enver showed no surprise. He raised his left hand. With his right thumb—the nail of which suddenly grew as long and sharp as a razor—he sliced the skin along his left wrist. Not a single drop of red blood emerged. Instead, from beneath the torn muscle and tissue, the Golden Vein surged forth. It was not a liquid, but a glowing organic fiber emitting a blinding gold light. The vein extended three meters from Enver's body, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
Golden Vein: Enver's biological weapon and surgical tool. An extension of his "Hellseer" anatomy, it connects directly to the pure energy of the universe. This vein can pierce any matter and manipulate the nervous systems of other living beings.
Enver moved his fingers like a conductor. The Golden Vein darted through the air with lightning speed. It did not decapitate the guards; instead, it slid with surgical precision into their ears, nostrils, and pores. Enver was performing Neuro-Hacking. He was injecting pure life essence into their tainted motor systems. Within seconds, the ten guards dropped their weapons. Their eyes rolled back, showing only whites. Their bodies convulsed violently before they collapsed unconscious. Their brains could not contain the surge of pure energy Enver had channeled.
Bramantyo tried to crawl backward, but his stomach suddenly exploded from within. The MAU nesting in his gut had reached full maturity. The creature slithered out of the gash in Bramantyo's belly. It resembled a two-meter-long giant leech, eyeless and skinless. Its entire surface was a weave of deep red muscle embedded with thousands of sharp gold coins. These coins spun on their axes like chainsaws, ready to shred anything. The creature emitted a high-pitched, metallic screech and lunged for Enver's throat.
Enver did not flinch. He caught the creature's slick neck with his bare right hand. Enver's skin hissed and smoked as it touched the MAU's negative energy. With inhuman strength, he halted the beast and drove his Golden Vein directly into its primary nerve center.
"Purificazione," Enver commanded, emphasizing every syllable.
Purificazione: A high-level astral surgical technique. Enver uses his veins to isolate negative energy, severing the parasite's bond with physical reality and reverting it back into neutral base energy before returning it to the universe.
A brilliant explosion of gold light erupted from the puncture site. The MAU went into violent spasms. The gold coins attached to its body melted into foul-smelling black vapor. Within seconds, the creature's entire mass evaporated, leaving behind a solid object in Enver's palm: a large, coin-shaped heart made of pure silver.
Bramantyo lay limp on the marble floor, now flooded with clear fluid from his open abdomen. There was no red blood—only piles of banknotes spilling out of his intestines, which had been transformed into organic money-printing machines. Bramantyo was still breathing, but his eyes were hollow. Above his head, the air shimmered into a circular projection of light—an intricate web of transparent nerves. This was the Neural Loom.
Neural Loom: The threads of fate and the central nervous system of the universe. In Enver's eyes, every living being is connected to this. When someone reaches the point of death following purification, the Loom appears to deliver the final judgment on the soul's remaining energy.
"Bramantyo, your sins are purified, but your existence has damaged the balance," Enver said, standing over the dying man. "Choose one of the three doors of redemption. One: Die now and be erased from the world's memory. Two: Enter the Prufen rehabilitation dimension to atone in eternal silence. Three: Become a Witness Coin slave, surrendering your soul to help me hunt other parasites."
Bramantyo stared at the golden ceiling, tears freezing into silver crystals. "Erase me... I don't want my wife and child... to see this money-filled carcass. Let them live as if I never existed."
Enver placed his palm on Bramantyo's cold forehead. "Choice accepted."
Instantly, Bramantyo's body dissolved. No flesh or bone remained. His body silently exploded into billions of new banknotes and shimmering gold coins that filled the floor waist-high. It was opulent, yet dead.
At that same moment, reality shifted. In a luxury home on the outskirts of the city, a woman looking through a family photo album suddenly froze. The face of the man in the photo vanished, leaving a blank white space. Her memory of her husband was completely wiped. Bramantyo was gone from history.
Enver stood amidst the floating banknotes. His black hair suddenly surged, growing another ten centimeters. The bones in Enver's neck let out a loud crack as his hair instantly became fifty kilograms heavier. His breath became short and labored.
Inside Enver's coat pocket, an ancient coin vibrated violently. A heavy, hoarse, and cold laughter echoed directly inside Enver's skull. It was the voice of Z'loq, the Absolute Overlord of Fate.
"Exquisite, Enver. Such a poetic sacrifice," Z'loq whispered. "But that power isn't free. Tonight, I have carved fifteen years from your remaining life. Our contract ticks faster now. Remember, Enver, you move within my grasp. Your fate is mine, absolutely. Never think there is a way out of the threads I have woven."
Enver did not reply. He wiped the remaining gold fluid from his wrist, which had already sealed perfectly, leaving only a thin scar. He stepped out of the golden room, dragging his heavy black hair over mountains of money that no longer held meaning or ownership for anyone in the universe. Outside, the torrential Jakarta rain greeted him, though not a single drop could wash away the exhaustion rooted in his soul.
High above the clouds, behind an invisible dimension, The 7 Councils watched through an astral mirror. Their faces were clouded with hesitation. If they let Enver live, their ancient rules would slowly be eroded by his overwhelming power. But if they eliminated him now, the universal system would reset to zero, and their power on Earth would vanish forever. They were trapped in an impossible choice.
Meanwhile, from the shadows, Maxcen smiled thinly. He cared nothing for the Council's rules or Z'loq's absoluteness. He wanted only one thing: to hijack Enver's destiny and turn him into the masterpiece of darkness he craved.