“You mechanical ant, do you really think that after stealing from me, you’ll live to see tomorrow’s sun? The Overlord Group will kill you, kill everyone you know— even your neighbor’s dog will be torn to pieces!” Henry Clark snarled viciously.

“Sun? Lord Antique, you must have stayed on the God’s Ring for too long and forgotten that down here, beneath these black clouds, who can see the sun? My employer promised me a new world— can you offer that?” Joan of Arc said, strolling to the side and stopping in front of a control panel.

“Wait! What are you trying to do?” Henry Clark was starting to panic.

“Of course, I don’t expect to walk away with this beauty from your thousands of troops. But she’ll deliver herself to my employer. Now, let’s start the delivery.”

As Joan of Arc spoke, she smashed the control panel beside her with her elbow. With a loud crack, the warehouse beneath the massive ice crystal opened, and the vacuum’s pull quickly ejected the icy lump from the transport ship.

“Bastard! Bastard! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! Prepare the railguns!” On the other end of the feed, Henry Clark had completely lost it, not caring that besides Joan of Arc, there were 3,600 of his own company’s employees on that transport ship.

No one dared question his orders, even though he had clearly gone mad.

Around the God’s Ring A-Zone spaceport, four floating railguns swiftly adjusted their aim, their half-kilometer-long barrels all targeting the direction of the Pioneer ship.

“Ahhhhhhh!” Wails filled the transport ship. People fled in panic, rushing toward the lifeboat bay as fast as they could, but it was already too late.

The railguns, needing only five seconds to charge, blasted out four silvery-white beams, slicing through the massive Pioneer ship like tofu, dismembering it into fragments. A huge explosion erupted from the engine room.

In just ten seconds, the giant vessel was blown into a massive fireball, momentarily outshining the sun itself. The resulting shockwave made even the enormous God’s Ring tremble slightly.

It was hard to imagine anyone surviving such a blast. Fortunately… Joan of Arc could hardly be called human anymore. The moment the ice crystal was sucked out, she, wearing a space helmet, leapt from the transport ship as well, streaking across the God’s Ring like a meteor, following gravity toward the atmosphere.

From several kilometers away, she watched the ice crystal fly along its predetermined trajectory and felt reassured, knowing her companion would retrieve the ice at the landing point and complete the deal.

But just then, Joan of Arc suddenly noticed that as the ice crystal glowed red from friction in the atmosphere, the girl inside suddenly opened her eyes?!

“Was that an illusion?”

Joan of Arc muttered in surprise. In the blink of an eye, steam generated by friction enveloped the surface of the ice crystal as it plummeted toward the black cloud–shrouded Earth.

Meanwhile, on the ground, in the city of the Third Federal District of Gert, in the backyard of a small neighborhood, inside a “Missy” tavern, Sarah Bolton was surrounded at a corner table by more than a dozen friends, all toasting him wildly.

The shirt he’d bought for his interview was now stained with vomit and alcohol, and his once-handsome face was flushed red as a shrimp from alcohol poisoning.

Normally a good-looking guy, he now sprawled across the table like a fool, swirling his glass. “Come on! Keep drinking! Don’t worry about the money! It’s on me! All on me!”

Sarah Bolton’s generosity brought cheers from the whole room, even though he couldn’t name half the people there, nor did he know who had invited them to freeload. Not only that, but two heavily made-up, busty women had sandwiched him on either side—he worried their recently enhanced chests might burst at any moment.

The old Sarah Bolton never had such luck with women, nor this much money. Orphaned, he’d been struggling on his own since age twelve, washing dishes to save up for all sorts of required classes, working hard to study. Some advised him to pay for boxing or shooting lessons and become a bounty hunter or a thug—work more suited to his background.

But he just didn’t like fighting; he preferred using his brain and reading books.

Heaven rewards the diligent: on his twentieth birthday, he actually passed the Overlord Group’s strictest regional manager exam, earning a position at the largest company on Earth and stepping onto the path to success!

Being a manager at the Overlord Group was a lifetime appointment, with a car and a house provided. Just flashing your work ID would have girls flocking to you like flies to dung—impossible to drive them away!

His indulgence and revelry were fully justified—his life was about to change tomorrow! Yet, though Sarah Bolton wore a smile on his drunken face, he felt no joy.

It was like a gamer who, after painstakingly collecting every item and beating the game, felt not satisfaction, but emptiness…

In the end, Sarah Bolton didn’t take any of the busty women home. Maybe his vomit was too disgusting, or maybe his home was. Swaying, he made his way alone through the garbage mountain at the recycling station, back to his dormitory in the middle of a shabby, mobile tin shack.

This was the home rented to him by the old man who watched over the garbage mountain—the cheapest place for kilometers around. Aside from the bad smell, Sarah Bolton had cleaned it up enough to be livable, right?