The slight dizziness faded, and the pitch-black prison melted away.
When David opened his eyes again, he was standing in a massive underground space. It looked like a giant black market built inside an abandoned bunker. Dim fluorescent lights flickered among the complex pipes on the ceiling.
This was the resting station for all survivors between dungeons—The Hub.
The air reeked of sweat, blood, and desperate sighs. Ragged, numb humans were everywhere. Some were missing limbs; others curled up in dark corners, nervously biting their nails.
In the very center of The Hub stood a tall tower glowing with soft white light: The System Trade Center. Above its entrance, the absolute iron rule of The Hub was written in bold text: [Any form of fighting or killing is strictly prohibited in the Safe Zone. Violators will be instantly erased.]
"No killing?" David gently touched the sleeping [Shadow Bear Spirit] hiding in the darkness of his coat. A cold smile curled his lips. "That's fine. Sometimes, living is much more painful than dying."
As the only player to achieve an SSS-Rank perfect clear, David currently had 50,000 Survival Points sitting quietly in his account. Meanwhile, those who barely scraped by with a D or E rank didn't even have 50 points.
Ignoring the terrified and greedy stares around him, David walked straight into the white tower.
Ten minutes later. When he walked out of the tower, the miserable, blood-soaked boy in the dirty delivery uniform was completely gone.
Replacing him was a tall man with eyes as sharp as blades. He wore a perfectly tailored black tactical trench coat with a hidden defense coating, and silent combat boots. His face, once pale from countless sleepless nights of working, now radiated a cold, deadly charm, completely rebuilt by the [SSS-Rank Physique Enhancement].
But the most eye-catching thing was what he held in his hands. In one hand, he carried a sizzling, perfectly cooked Tomahawk steak on a silver platter. In the other, he gently swirled a glass of blood-red Bordeaux wine.
In this hellhole where people traded their lives for a piece of moldy bread, the aroma of a hot steak was more deadly than any drug.
The surrounding survivors stared like starving wolves smelling blood. But when they met David's emotionless eyes and saw the terrifying black mist swirling around the hem of his coat, they lowered their heads in fear and cleared a path.
David strolled leisurely along the edge of The Hub, holding his steak.
Just as he passed a reeking pile of garbage, an incredibly familiar, yet pathetic begging voice caught his ear.
"Please... boss... just one piece of bread... my girlfriend is dying... I'll trade you this Patek Philippe watch! It's worth a million bucks!"
David stopped in his tracks.
Kneeling by the trash pile was a man covered in mud and unidentifiable filth. His right arm hung limply at his side, clearly crushed in the previous dungeon. His once handsome, arrogant face was now twisted with extreme hunger and fear. It was Kelvin. The rich heir who, just hours ago in the Presidential Suite, had threatened to crush David like an ant.
And shivering behind Kelvin was a woman with messy hair and torn clothes. She hugged her knees, her eyes vacant, muttering endlessly, "Don't come near me... monsters go away..." It was Nicole. The woman who had abandoned David for Kelvin's money.
Standing in front of them was a muscular thug with a scarred face. The thug kicked Kelvin to the ground and spat a thick glob of phlegm onto the expensive watch. "A million bucks? In this hell, your stupid watch is too hard to even wipe my ass with! Get lost! If you come near me again, I'll butcher you two dogs the second we leave the Safe Zone!"
Kelvin rolled on the ground, clutching his stomach. He didn't even dare to talk back. He just whimpered like a beaten dog. This was his true face after losing the protection of his money and power—a helpless coward.
"Tsk, tsk." A very light, extremely cold mocking sound drifted from above Kelvin's head.
"It seems your Police Commissioner uncle never taught you how to beg for food in the sewer."
The familiar voice exploded in Kelvin and Nicole's minds like thunder!
Kelvin snapped his head up, following the spotless black tactical boots upward. When he saw the man standing against the light—holding red wine and a Tomahawk steak, looking down at him like a dark king—Kelvin's pupils dilated to the absolute limit.
"Da... David?!" Kelvin shrieked, his voice cracking as if he had seen a ghost.
Hearing that name, Nicole trembled violently and jerked her head up from the trash pile.
When she saw him... the ex-boyfriend who worked himself to the bone for three months just to buy her a phone, the man she had called a "useless loser"... now wearing an expensive tactical coat, radiating a suffocatingly powerful aura, and holding the top-tier steak she was currently dreaming of biting into...
Nicole's brain completely crashed. Extreme shock, regret, disbelief, and the dizziness of starvation tore at her nerves all at once.
"This... this is impossible..." Kelvin shrank back in terror, pointing a trembling finger at the steak in David's hand. His teeth chattered. "How could you... how could you still be alive?! How can you afford this?! You're just a bottom-feeder delivery boy!"
David didn't answer. He simply bent down slightly and gently placed the silver platter with the fragrant Tomahawk steak right into the muddy water in front of them.
Gulp. Kelvin and Nicole swallowed their saliva frantically at the exact same time. Their eyes were glued to the meat like two starving wild dogs.
David looked down at them from high above. There was not a single trace of pity in his eyes. Only biting coldness and ultimate mockery.
"Eat," David swirled the red wine in his glass, his voice as soft as if giving charity. "After all... looking at you right now, you two are a perfect match for a piece of meat dropped in the mud."