As long as you have the courage, fierce ghosts go on maternity leave.

Chapter 252: Richest man Alexander

"Six... six hundred and thirty trillion?" Both Kassadin Imperial and Edward were momentarily stupefied on the spot. Kassadin Imperial, in particular, was so exhilarated that tears of joy streamed down his face as he muttered, "I’m rich, I’m damned rich!"

Kassadin was undoubtedly a veteran Imperial, having even witnessed the era when Hades existed.

From the inception of the mist instance, he had been participating as a Ghost King. After several centuries of laborious effort, Kassadin broke through from being a Ghost King to an Imperial, and now, reaching the level of Ghost Emperor seemed within arm’s reach.

At the Imperial level, he was indisputably top-notch.

Despite Kassadin Imperial’s hot-tempered nature, he was extremely cautious within the mist instance. If Edward was known for showing off, then Kassadin Imperial could unequivocally be crowned as the most cautious participant in the mist instance—a true survivor.

After all these years of cautious, Kassadin Imperial had accumulated substantial wealth, albeit it was only in the tens of billions.

And here was Alexander, who had earned six hundred and thirty trillion in just three days! Was this some kind of bug? Had all the ghost energy reserves from the entire horror world gathered here?

The claim was not even an exaggeration. The mist instances are indeed not abundant; only three known instances exist in the entire misty area: Cangshan City, the Nevernight City, and Blood Hell City.

These three don’t open simultaneously but alternate. If, for instance, Cangshan City is active this year, the Nevernight City will follow next year, and so on.

The participant pool this time entering the Cangshan instance accounted for more than half of all the participants. These individuals had practically stored all their savings in the Ninth Dining Hall.

That’s the entire wealth of thirty thousand Ghost Kings, Ghost Imperials, and even Ghost Emperors! The highest among them, a Inherited Ghost Emperor, recharged more than five hundred billion.

So, to say that Alexander had gathered all the ghost energy values from the entire horror world wasn’t an overstatement.

"Alexander, are we really going to take all these ghost energy values with us? It feels... intimidating! If this gets out, it’s going to be way more terrifying than when Louis became the Lord of the Dark Hell!" Edward said, his voice tinged with palpable trepidation.

If word got out, they’d be making enemies across the entire terrifying world—a feud that could be lethal.

"Do you guys still want your share of this ghost energy or not?" Seeing the worried expressions on their faces, Alexander couldn’t help but inquire.

"Split it! Absolutely split it!" both men chimed in unison. With over six hundred trillion in ghost energy, even a 10% commission would amount to tens of trillions.

They had now become bona fide trillionaires, and the mere act of showing these staggering numbers was a glory unto itself, worth dying for!

Besides, they were both ghosts. What would they have to fear from dying again?

Without further ado, Alexander began distributing the shares. He transferred fifty trillion each to Edward and Kassadin Imperial, leaving the remaining change on the chef’s dashboard. Five hundred trillion in ghost energy values were funneled into Alexander’s own account.

"What should we do next?" Suddenly amassing such enormous wealth, Edward and Kassadin Imperial appeared bewildered and aimless.

"Nonsense! Since we’re filthy rich, the natural thing to do is spend!" Alexander rose from his seat, his voice full of grandeur. "Let’s go shopping!"

That’s right, shopping!

Though Alexander and his companions lacked sports cars or flashy motorcycles, what could attract more attention than Edward and Kassadin Imperial themselves?

One hundred sports cars combined couldn’t outshine these two individuals’ captivating allure. And indeed, reality proved it so.

When Alexander, swaggering and exuberant, appeared on the street outside the Ninth Dining Hall with the two participants, the atmosphere instantly shifted, imbuing the entire roadway with an uncanny air.

Countless natives, eyes reddened, turned their attention toward Alexander. Gradually, they began to close in, an ominous black aura emanating from their bodies.

Alexander’s own aura, eerily similar, began to swirl with a grayish-white mist. This, however, was not a taboo power like that of the natives, but a simulated force from the mist instance tool.

Many people gathered, and their powers were formidable—with four of them even possessing the rank of Ghost Emperor. However, the moment Alexander stepped in front of Kassadin Imperial and Edward, the expressions on the faces of these natives transformed.

An elderly man with a hoarse voice spoke up: "Alistair, what’s the meaning of this? Do you think that being a Dining Hall Manager grants you the right to do whatever you please? Are you trying to shield these participants?"

Hearing this, Alexander immediately felt vindicated in his assumptions. He had brought out Kassadin and Edward to test some theories.

Initially, he hadn’t held high hopes, but if the natives could see that these participants were with Alistair and cease their aggressive actions, it would be a splendid outcome.

Even if his role as Alistair couldn’t prevent these natives from their aggression, Alexander had other contingency plans. If the locals continued to approach, Edward would activate his spatial abilities to transport them back to the Dining Hall for a makeover. These were the two scenarios Alexander had considered.

Yet what he hadn’t expected was this: The berserk behavior of the natives was not due to a complete loss of consciousness. It seemed that their desire to kill Edward and Kassadin wasn’t purely instinctual.

Rather, some unknown mechanism created an irresistible allure that they couldn’t defy. Hence, upon spotting the participants, these natives would enter a frenzied state.

What could excite them to this extent?

Suddenly, a daring speculation flashed across Alexander’s mind. Seeing the natives readying to attack, he hastily inquired, "How much would it cost to hire you for a day?"

"Alistair, do you really think you can buy us all?" The native elder rolled up his sleeve and extended his arm toward Alexander, sneering, "After regaining our senses, although we don’t consume as many ghost energy values as you, the amount needed to maintain our sanity is still significant.

I only have thirty minutes left—enough of this chatter! If we kill them, kill enough participants, we can redeem ourselves from this cycle and become Dining Hall Managers like you—truly free, rather than trapped in an endless loop of death and rebirth."

As the elder spoke, his arm shimmered with a distorted light, reminiscent of the strange tattoos on the participants’ hands.

Each native had a tattoo with a reserve value, too. Only theirs were all the same: ten thousand, a number that was steadily declining. At the current rate, it would reach zero in thirty minutes.

Could it be that their frenzied attacks were due to limited time to regain their senses from the loop? Only by killing participants could they earn rewards that would free them from this endless cycle and turn them into beings like Alistair, who didn’t have to endure the cycle?

Alexander felt a shock pulse through him, and his eyes began to change. Ghost energy values also had worth in front of these ordinary natives, and evidently, their value was even higher.

Once awakened to this reality, who would willingly fall back into that ceaseless loop? And the only way to break free, to become someone like Alistair, was to kill participants before the countdown ended and earn the qualification to escape the cycle.

"Move aside!" The native elder roared, his ghostly energy surging as he yelled at Alexander, "Even as a Dining Hall Manager, you have no right to stop us from killing the participants. You’re a traitor for helping them! Hand them over, or not just they, but you too won’t be going back!"

"It seems we have no other option. Let’s use spatial power and return with Kassadin; the information we’ve gathered is valuable enough," Edward whispered from behind Alexander.

"No!" Alexander shook his head decisively. Turning to face the encroaching natives, he declared, "I am the chef of the 9th Dining Hall. Surely, I can have a couple of subordinates when I venture out? I have the money to indulge myself; what’s wrong with using participants as my henchmen?"

"Who gave you the right? Did you even ask us?" The elder was livid, his eyes red. He had already wasted precious minutes.

This elder had a ghostly aura worth billions, marking him as a Ghost Emperor. However, this energy was tethered to the Mist System and couldn’t be transferred to his arm. Once the countdown ended, he’d revert to a mindless state, caught in an endless loop of repetition.

In Mist instance they couldn’t escape, the only way out was to kill participants. Each kill would convert their ghost energy into a reserve value.

When that value equaled their own energy, they could redeem themselves, becoming managers like Alistair—still constrained, but at least free from this tormenting cycle.

And now, Alexander had the audacity to claim Edward and Kassadin as his subordinates. Did he expect them to just relinquish these two participants? What gave him the right? Did being the chef of the 9th Dining Hall give him carte blanche?

The natives collectively cursed under their breaths, readying themselves for a swift charge to snatch the participants. Edward and Kassadin were also growing tense, wishing they could drag Alexander back to the Dining Hall right away.

Once these natives attacked, they would quickly discover that this so-called Ghost Emperor Alistair was nothing but an impostor, and then all would be lost.

Just as the natives couldn’t hold back any longer, Alexander’s voice surged, booming: "You asked by what right? By what authority do I command you to stop? By what justification do I have two participants as my subordinates? The reason is quite simple!"

With that, Alexander lifted his right arm high into the air and bellowed: "It’s by my own effort! I have acquired another talent—it’s called the Power of Money! Mist System, transfer one hundred thousand units of ghost energy to everyone’s account present here!"

At Alexander’s command, the ghost energy value displayed on the arms of the over one hundred people present suddenly increased by one hundred thousand units. Then, Alexander revealed the astronomical number of his own ghost energy reserves. What he showcased struck everyone motionless with awe.

What did they see?

The ghost energy reserve value on this man’s arm was an astonishing... five hundred trillion!

The air seemed to freeze, every face etched with disbelief, eyes fixated on that unfathomable number.