[HOST INTEGRITY: 10%]
[CAPITAL: 0 COINS]
[TIME: 4:15 PM]
The school bell rang, releasing a thousand teenagers into the afternoon sun.
For most of them, the day was over. For Ren Wu, the workday was just starting.
Ren sat on the curb outside the school gate, checking his pulse. It was thready, skipping every fifth beat. The adrenaline from the Tier 1 Memory unlock had burned off, leaving him hollowed out.
Energy Reserves: Critical. Estimated operating time before collapse: 4 hours.
He watched Ye Lingshan's black sedan pull away. She sat in the back seat, staring straight ahead, her sword case resting next to her like a silent passenger.
"She knows," Ren muttered, chewing on a stale granola bar. "She sensed the Authority spike in the tower. She just doesn't know it was me."
Jian was pacing back and forth, vibrating with anxiety. "Ren, can we talk about what happened? You spoke in a voice that sounded like... a movie trailer! And the ghost just bowed? Is she going to kill us?"
"She's an employee now, Jian. HR handles the complaints," Ren said, standing up. "We need to move. The factory is running, but the machinery is empty."
"Empty? I thought you sent the scary ghost lady to grind up the vermin?"
"Vermin spirits are Filler," Ren explained, walking toward the bus stop. "They provide bulk, but no potency. If we make incense out of just rats and bugs, it's trash. I need a premium product to buy the Body Refinement Pill."
He pulled out his phone and dropped a pin on a massive complex downtown.
[ST. JUDE'S HOSPITAL]
"I need Binder," Ren said. "Something to make the ghosts crave it."
The Logistics of Death
The bus ride was quiet. Ren kept his explanation brutal and efficient.
"To make [Grade-F Spirit Incense], we need three things: Base (Vermin), Fuel (Resentment), and Binder (Death Dew)."
"Death Dew?" Jian looked green.
"It's not a liquid. It's the spiritual condensate of the death rattle," Ren said, staring out the window. "When a human dies, the shock of separation freezes on the skin for four hours. Market price is 50 Spirit Coins per ounce. Hospitals wipe it away with bleach because they lack [Spirit Sight]."
The bus screeched to a halt.
"We're here," Ren said. "Time to pick up the trash."
The Infiltration
St. Jude's Hospital looked sterile to humans. To Ren, it was a smokestack of black misery billowing into the sky.
"We can't just walk into the morgue," Jian whispered by the emergency entrance. "Cameras. Guards."
"We aren't breaking in," Ren said, unzipping his backpack. "We are inspecting."
He handed Jian a high-visibility vest and a clipboard.
"Put this on."
"A vest?"
"Nobody questions a man in a high-vis vest holding a clipboard," Ren said, slipping his on. "It implies authorized boredom."
They walked to the loading dock.
A security guard looked up. "Hey! Deliveries are around the—"
Ren didn't stop. He didn't even look at the guard. He stared at his clipboard, looking annoyed.
"HVAC inspection. Ventilation failure in Sector 4. Unless you want the cooling units to fail and the bodies to rot by morning, let us pass."
The guard hesitated. Ren's tone wasn't pleading; it was the tired irritation of a man working overtime.
"Uh... right. Go ahead."
They walked past him.
"See?" Ren whispered. "Bureaucracy."
The Cold Room
The Morgue was in the sub-basement.
Ren pushed the double doors open. Rows of stainless steel drawers lined the walls. Three bodies lay on gurneys, covered in sheets.
Ren's eyes glowed green.
[SPIRIT SIGHT: ACTIVE]
The bodies shimmered with a faint, blueish frost.
[RESOURCE DETECTED: FRESH DEATH DEW]
[QUALITY: HIGH]
[QUANTITY: ~12 OUNCES]
"Jackpot," Ren murmured. "600 coins worth of product."
He pulled a glass jar and a silver scraper from his pocket.
"Ren, this is grave robbing," Jian whispered.
"They aren't using it," Ren said, pulling back the sheet on the first body. "The soul is gone. This is just sweat."
He scraped the glowing frost into the jar. It sizzled like dry ice.
He finished the first body. Then the second.
He was moving to the third when the temperature plummeted.
Not AC cold. Grave cold.
Ren froze. He capped the jar.
"Hide."
"What?"
"Hide!" Ren shoved Jian behind a stack of gurneys and dove behind a metal cabinet.
The doors swung open.
Two figures floated in. They wore long, grey trench coats and fedoras that shadowed their faces. They held lanterns that emitted no light, only heat-seeking beams.
[ENTITY: REAPER PATROL (CLASS D)]
[AFFILIATION: NETHER-CORE LOGISTICS]
"I smell it," one Reaper rasped, its voice like dry leaves. "Unauthorized harvest."
The other Reaper swung its lantern. The beam swept across the room, passing inches from Ren's foot. Where the light touched, the floor hissed and turned black.
"Someone is stealing the Dew," the second Reaper growled. "Find them. The Manager hates rats."
Ren held his breath. Frost was creeping up the side of the metal cabinet, numbing his fingers.
He had zero Mana. His skills were on cooldown.
If they found him, he couldn't fight.
He couldn't run.
The Reaper floated closer. It sniffed the air, turning its faceless hood toward Ren's hiding spot.
"Come out, little rat..."
Ren's mind raced.
I have to outrank them.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
[FIELD AUDIT: INITIATED]