[160]: Game Over

Arriving at the residence of the so-called "Ruler"—a place resembling a royal castle—a boy with short, slightly wavy golden hair and bright blue eyes opened the large front doors.

When he saw Cyr, his expression froze for a second before he politely smiled and introduced himself. "Hello, I'm List."

"Congratulations on obtaining the final card. Please follow me."

Cyr glanced at him, thoughts flashing briefly—

This guy doesn't look like some throwaway NPC.

With a slight nod, he followed List through a long corridor until they stopped in front of a large door.

List pushed it open—

And inside was… a complete mess.

The room was filthy and cluttered with junk, books, and trash littering the floor, making it nearly impossible to step anywhere clean.

And sitting on the ground in the middle of it all was a disheveled, bearded man with tangled hair and a greasy look that screamed shut-in.

He turned around and looked up at Cyr.

"Yo, you're—" The man choked on his own words halfway through, taking a moment before finishing:

"—here."

Ha, so Ging had once declared with total confidence that his son would be the one to clear this game.

Well, unless Ging somehow had a white-haired kid, it looked like someone else beat his son to the punch.

So he'd just have to give this boy the standard version of the reward.

The special version? That was meant for Ging's kid only.

"Card." Cyr extended his hand toward the messy man.

"Hold on, let me find it..."

The man dug through a pile of disorganized books and eventually pulled a card out from a corner and handed it to Cyr.

"You don't have any questions?" he asked, curious.

"I'm not here to find my dad."

The white-haired boy's brows lifted with carefree arrogance.

"Just give me my reward."

He reached out again.

"…This." The man hesitated slightly, then handed over a rectangular Card Collection Book.

It had only three slots, just enough to hold three cards.

"As a reward for clearing the game, you're allowed to take three cards with you." the man explained.

"Is there anything else?" Cyr asked plainly.

"…"

The man looked like he was choking.

"That's it."

What more could this kid possibly want?!

"Then I'm leaving."

Cyr pocketed the mini book, turned, and walked out of the room without another word.

Both List and the scruffy man stared in shock, clearly not expecting him to leave so abruptly.

No curiosity.

No questions.

Not even a hint of excitement over winning.

Just like that, under their stunned gazes, the boy vanished without looking back.

"…He really just left," the man muttered, a little wistfully.

Interesting young people seem to be popping up more and more.

"There was originally supposed to be a celebration party…" List shook his head.

"Forget it. That kid didn't look like the type who'd enjoy that kind of thing anyway."

The scruffy man returned to his usual apathetic shut-in self.

Still… why hasn't Ging's son shown up yet?

…

"Which three cards should I bring…" Cyr stepped out of the castle gates—and saw a green-clothed boy standing at the entrance.

The other boy spotted him too, eyes full of resolve, fists clenched—and without a word, marched straight past Cyr, striding into the castle with a blank expression.

They brushed shoulders without exchanging a single glance.

"Only cards from the designated Pocket can be chosen…"

"One bottle of Witch's Youth Reversal Elixir, and the other two…"

Cyr pulled out his original card book, eyes scanning the contents with mild indecision.

Most cards didn't interest him.

Even Archangel's Breath wasn't useful—he could already heal himself with his RCT.

As for the rest? Even more useless.

The Witch's Youth Reversal Elixir contained 100 pills—each one could make someone a year younger.

He could probably sell a few to Battera.

But the whole bottle? No way.

His deal with Battera had ended long ago. Anything he brought out now wouldn't be part of that agreement.

If Battera wanted them, he'd have to buy them.

Ten billion per pill.

A hundred billion for ten.

Totally affordable for a rich guy like that. Just a small splurge.

"Alright then… Elder's Height-Increase Pills and Wandering Soul Pillow," Cyr decided lightly, as if it wasn't even worth a second thought.

—Elder's Height-Increase Pills, No. 067.

Difficulty: B

Card Value: 30

One bottle, 100 pills. Each pill adds one centimeter in height. Recommended for use after adulthood.

—Wandering Soul Pillow, No. 019.

Difficulty: A

Card Value: 13

Using it to sleep lets the user project their soul outside their body. If the soul doesn't return within 24 hours, it turns into a real ghost—forever unable to go back.

With that, he transferred the three selected cards from his old book into the new one.

[Game Cleared.]

…

He returned to the place where the game console was located.

Everything in Greed Island was real—so even after returning to Meteor Street, there wasn't that usual jarring feeling of leaving a game world behind.

The church in Meteor Street looked the same as always, except the kids weren't outside; they were all gathered inside.

Seid and the other priests and nuns were guarding the place—and even Pampas, who rarely showed up, was there too.

Weird.

Cyr was in the meditation chamber where Syd normally practiced.

It was still quiet, relatively speaking.

"Contact Battera. Ask if he wants to buy the Witch's Youth Reversal Elixir," Cyr said to Maro beside him.

"Yes," the blond young man nodded and walked off to make the call.

Meanwhile, Cyr pulled out his new card book and materialized all three cards.

Two bottles of pills.

One pillow.

All physical items—meaning they weren't one-time-use.

"No need to get younger for now… As for getting taller…"

Cyr glanced at the wall nearby, where he'd etched a mark two years ago.

After spending time on Greed Island, Cyr had grown to 175cm tall and was steadily approaching 180cm. He wasn't particularly anxious about it.

Thinking this, he casually popped five of the height-increase pills.

In an instant, his height broke through the 180cm mark.

Fifteen years old and already 180cm? At this rate, won't he hit two meters in the future?

Of course, there were side effects—his sudden growth left his fat distribution lagging behind, making him look a bit slimmer.

If he'd taken even more at once, he might've ended up looking like skin and bones.

"As for the rest… you take ten pills every half month." Cyr glanced over at the big white tiger beside him.

Sora parents were massive—nearly five meters long. If Sora took the height pills, he might grow to six meters.

Not bad. As my pet, he should absolutely outgrow his parents.

Thinking that, he fed Sora ten pills on the spot. Sora's body length increased by ten centimeters.

Thanks to his thick fur, he didn't look overly skinny—but definitely less round than before.

"Eat more from now on," Cyr said as he patted Sora head.

Fluffy things are cuter when they're round. Once they slim down, the texture just doesn't hit the same.

"Have Battera send over some food," he turned to tell Maro.

Zone 12 had limited food rations. If Sora started eating freely, in less than half a month, Syd and Pampas would be knocking, demanding he pay for restocking supplies.

Better to just milk the rich guy directly.

…

In the church's main hall, Syd and Pampas both turned in the same direction.

"That kid must be back," Syd said to the wary Pampas.

"Guess he finally figured things out," Pampas muttered, eyes flicking toward the room where the Greed Island console was kept.

Greed Island… Back then, they had played it too—convinced they could beat it.

Later, they discovered the game was actually real and went looking for the island itself.

But in the end… they were kicked out.

After that came the incident where fifty players suddenly dropped dead at once.

Since then, Pampas and Syd had never entered Greed Island again.

They even sold the game console.

Originally priced at 5.8 billion, they sold it for 10 billion.

At the time, they were pretty pleased with themselves.

Then came Battera, offering 17 billion to get his hands on a console—

And Pampas deeply regretted selling his too early.

That was seventeen billion—still the worst deal he's ever made.

To a speculator, if the profit isn't maximized, it's a loss.

°°°

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