The boss lady finally leaned forward, her sharp gaze locking onto Django. "You've got my attention, charmer," she said. "Name's Kaida Draven, but around here, they just call me Boss. You'd do well to remember it."
"Kaida," Django repeated, rolling the name on his tongue with a smirk. "Pretty name for a dangerous woman. I'll remember it."
She scoffed, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement. "Keep your focus, Django. If you're as good as you claim, maybe you'll stick around long enough to earn that partnership you're so fond of pitching."
She gestured to one of her lieutenants, a tall man with cybernetic eyes and mana-powered gauntlets glowing faintly at his sides. His short-cropped hair and scarred jaw gave him the look of someone who'd seen his fair share of fights—and won most of them.
"This is Axel Rehn," Kaida said. "He'll brief you on the shipment and make sure you don't screw it up. Try to keep up with him."
Axel sized Django up, his glowing eyes scanning him like a scanner evaluating a faulty product. "You've got a lot to prove, rich boy," Axel said, his voice low and gruff. "Hope you're more than just talk."
Django grinned, clapping him on the shoulder as if they were already best friends. "Don't worry, Axel. By the time we're done, you'll be telling everyone I'm the best thing to ever happen to this Syndicate."
Axel's lips twitched into something resembling a smirk, though he quickly turned and gestured for Django to follow. "Let's see if you can back that up."
[xXx]
The briefing was quick and direct. The shipment consisted of rare monster parts harvested from a recent high-tier dungeon run—materials that could fetch millions on the black market. Kaida's Syndicate had locked down a route through the industrial sector to avoid the attention of local guilds and rival gangs, but the danger was still high.
"Here's the plan," Axel said, pointing to a holographic map projected in the air. "We're taking three armored vehicles. You'll be riding in the middle truck with me. High visibility means you'll be a target, but it also gives us the most control."
"Love being the center of attention," Django quipped, earning an unimpressed grunt from Axel.
"The moment we hit trouble—and we will hit trouble—you stick to the plan. No heroics, no freelancing. Got it?"
Django raised a hand as if swearing an oath. "Scout's honor. No heroics. Got it."
The convoy rolled out just after midnight. Three sleek, black vehicles with reinforced plating and glowing mana engines hummed as they sped through the narrow streets of the industrial sector. The lead and rear trucks were manned by Syndicate heavies armed to the teeth, while Axel and Django rode in the center vehicle.
Django lounged in his seat, the faint hum of the engine almost relaxing. "So," he said, breaking the silence, "what's your bet? Gangs, bounty hunters, or someone even crazier?"
Axel didn't take his eyes off the road. "All of the above. Now shut the fuck up and get ready."
Django chuckled. "Sounds fun."
The first sign of trouble came when the lead truck screeched to a halt, the sound of metal grinding against pavement filling the air. Axel swore under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter.
"Roadblock," he growled. "Stay in the truck."
Django leaned forward, peering through the windshield. Up ahead, a barricade of junk and mana-infused scrap glowed faintly, blocking the narrow street. Figures began to emerge from the shadows—masked gang members armed with a mix of enchanted weapons and crude firearms.
"Looks like a welcoming party," Django said, his grin widening. "How thoughtful."
"Stay put," Axel snapped as he opened the door. "Let us handle this."
Django watched as Axel stepped out, his mana gauntlets glowing brighter as the rest of the Syndicate guards disembarked from their vehicles. The gang members shouted something incomprehensible, and for a moment, it looked like the situation might deescalate.
Then a streak of mana-infused energy shot through the air, striking the lead truck and detonating its front end in a deafening explosion.
"Guess that's my cue," Django muttered, pushing open the door.
Axel spun around, glaring at him. "I told you to stay in the—"
Before Axel could finish, one of the gang members charged, swinging a glowing mace. Django sidestepped effortlessly, catching the weapon mid-swing with his bare hand. The glow from the mace sputtered and died as Django's fingers tightened around it.
"Somethin' the matter?" Django asked, grinning as he wrenched the mace away and sent the gang member sprawling with a single kick.
Axel's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue as the rest of the gang surged forward. "Fine. Just don't screw this up."
Django cracked his knuckles, his grin turning feral. "Wouldn't dream of it."
The chaos erupted, magic-infused weapons clashing with Syndicate firepower. Django weaved through the fray with a mix of agility and arrogance, disarming attackers with ease and redirecting their own weapons against them.
At one point, a gang leader charged him with a glowing broadsword, shouting a battle cry. Django yawned dramatically, catching the blade with two fingers before twisting it free and flipping the gang leader into a stack of crates.
"Is this the best you've got?" Django called out, his voice dripping with mockery. "I expected more from Springtown's finest thugs."
The rest of the gang hesitated, their confidence faltering as they watched Django move like a blur, every strike precise and devastating. One by one, they fell, their enchanted weapons useless against him.
Axel, still grappling with an attacker of his own, managed a quick glance at Django. His glowing gauntlets slammed into his opponent, knocking them out cold. "What the hell are you, rich boy?"
Django laughed, catching another gang member by the collar and tossing them into a wall. "Just a guy with a good shopping habit."
Kaida Draven's test wasn't over, but Django was already proving one thing—he wasn't just talk.
[xXx]
Flashback: A few hours ago...
Before Django ever set foot in Kaida Draven's den of black-market chaos, before he decided to swagger his way into a world of dungeons and Aurum, he was in his room, testing the limits of the system Buddha had oh-so-generously handed him.
He sat cross-legged on his obnoxiously plush bed, staring at his hand as if willing something to happen. "Alright, system," he muttered, "let's see what you've got. Inventory? Pocket space? Some kind of magic bag? Show me the goods."
There was no glowing text or fancy display, but something inside him clicked. It was a strange sensation, like tugging on a hidden thread in his chest. His hand glowed faintly with mana, and the half-eaten sandwich on the bedside table vanished in a flash of light.
Django blinked. "Did... did I just eat it with magic?" He waved his hands around, looking for some kind of explanation. Then, instinctively, he reached out again, willing the sandwich back. In another soft flash, it reappeared in his hand, slightly squished but otherwise intact.
"Oh," Django said, a grin spreading across his face. "Oh, this is dangerous. I can store stuff. Pocket dimension confirmed."
It was a crude form of inventory management—anything he could touch and cover in mana could be stashed away. No fancy menus, no glowing lists, but it was better than nothing.
And it was through this experimentation that he found it.
Rummaging through the room, Django began testing what he could store—clothes, random trinkets, even a chair (because why not?). His hands brushed over the ornate box that had been sitting on his desk since he woke up in this new world.
"Forgot about you," Django muttered, picking it up. It was small and sleek, carved with faintly glowing runes. The moment his fingers touched it, a notification blazed across his mind, clear and unmistakable.
[Welcome Gift: Beginner's Token]
Use: Grants one-time access to the System Shop with a 90% discount on your first purchase.
[Welcome Gift: Double Dice]
Use: Multiple your Aurum by the number of the dice roll.
Django's jaw dropped. "There's a shop?"
He didn't waste time. Closing his eyes, he instinctively reached out with his mana, and the room around him dimmed. A new interface flickered into being—a swirling void filled with glowing items, weapons, potions, and gear, each labeled with prices in Aurum.
At first, the numbers made him want to cry. A simple enchanted dagger cost 1.2 million Aurum. A low-tier mana shield was 800,000. Then his eyes landed on a small notification at the bottom of the screen:
[Discount Applied: 90% Off First Purchase]
"Now we're talking," Django said, rubbing his hands together. He scrolled through the options, his eyes narrowing as he weighed his choices. Plus, he was a first customer, and virgins always get a special discount or promotion.
He picked up his phone, flipping it open to the news feed. It wasn't like the sleek, modern devices he was used to. This was something entirely different—magic-punk in every sense of the word. The body was made of a glossy black metal that seemed to hum softly, almost alive. Thin lines of glowing blue mana traced intricate runes across the casing, shifting and flickering like circuitry infused with raw magic.
The screen wasn't glass, but something more fluid, like a pool of enchanted mercury that shifted smoothly as he swiped his finger across it. At the corners of the phone, small crystal nodes glowed faintly, pulsing in time with his touch.
"Alright, that's actually pretty cool," Django muttered, his grin widening. "Kinda feels like a magic artifact had a baby with a steampunk gadget."
Swiping through article after article, Django searched for anything that would give him a better understanding of what this new world demanded. He'd seen enough movies to know that blindly buying the flashiest gear was a rookie move. If he was going to spend this 90% discount wisely, he needed to plan.
His search quickly turned up some fascinating results.
Trending: "Top 5 Must-Have Items for Dungeon Divers"
The article listed essential tools for surviving dungeons, from durable mana-powered gear to items designed to counter specific monster threats. A few key pieces caught Django's attention:
Combat Enhancers: Tools that amplified physical strength and reflexes in battle.
Mana-Focusing Equipment: Items that reduced mana expenditure, allowing for longer fights or deeper dives into dungeons.
Emergency Teleport Scrolls: One-use items that could instantly pull the user out of danger.
"Good to know," Django muttered, filing the information away.
Curious about how his newfound funds measured up, Django dug into the local economy. A quick search on dungeon equipment prices confirmed what he'd already suspected: this world was expensive.
A decent mana rifle for ranged attacks? 2.5 million Aurum.
A basic enchanted sword? 3 million Aurum.
Don't even think about high-tier gear without spending 10 million or more.
"Damn," Django muttered, whistling under his breath. "I'm rich, but not that rich.
As he tapped the phone, the interface responded instantly, smoother than anything he'd ever used. Notifications popped up, glowing softly in midair.
[Springtown Network Connected]
[Balance: 25,000,000 Aurum]
[Mana Sync: Active]
"Twenty-five mil and counting," Django said, whistling low as he admired the balance again. He flicked through the phone's menus, discovering all sorts of features—a map that showed nearby dungeon hotspots, a marketplace for enchanted items, and even a personal mana gauge that synced with his body in real-time.
But the best part? Communication.
Django opened the contacts list, smirking at the familiar names staring back at him. His family's names were all there, complete with glowing icons that practically screamed wealth and power.
"Well," Django said, leaning back on his bed, "if I've got this kind of toy, I might as well make some birthday calls."
He tapped the first name: Sebastian Whitmore—his eldest brother, the one who ran half the family empire with an iron fist.
The phone buzzed softly before a holographic projection popped up, displaying the sharp, clean-cut face of Sebastian Whitmore. His perfectly styled hair, tailored suit, and steely gray eyes radiated authority.
"Django," Sebastian said flatly, his tone already exasperated. "What do you want? It's early, and I'm busy."
"Good morning to you too, dear brother," Django said, grinning. "No need to sound so grumpy. I'm just calling to remind you it's my birthday."
Sebastian's eyes narrowed. "You woke me up for that?"
"Not just that," Django said, leaning forward with a casual smirk. "You see, I was thinking… as a birthday gift, how about you send me 50 million Aurum? You know, just a little token of appreciation for your amazing baby brother."
Sebastian stared at him, unblinking. Then he burst into laughter—cold and sharp. "You're serious? You want me to just hand over 50 million Aurum?"
Django shrugged. "It's not like you can't afford it."
Sebastian's laughter faded into a smirk. "You've got guts, Django. I'll give you that. But no. If you want money, earn it."
"C'mon, Seb," Django said, his tone turning playful. "What's 50 million to you? Drop in the bucket. Think of it as an investment in my future."
Sebastian's smirk faltered slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Your future? You've never taken anything seriously in your life. Why would I believe you're suddenly doing something worth investing in?"
"Oh, you'll see," Django said, his grin sharpening. "Just wait. When I take over this city, you'll be wishing you'd given me 50 million for a measly 10% stake."
Sebastian sighed, rubbing his temple. "You're impossible. Fine. You want a birthday gift? I'll wire you 125 million. That's it. Don't call me for more. Happy birthday, little brother."
Django blinked, pleasantly surprised. "Wow, Seb, I didn't think you had it in you. I'll take it. Pleasure doing business with you."
The call ended, and Django leaned back with a laugh. "One down. Who's next?"
The rest of the calls followed a similar pattern. Each sibling and relative had their own colorful reaction—annoyance, disbelief, laughter—but Django's charm (and their deep pockets) worked in his favor. By the end of the morning, his balance had skyrocketed.
Django stared at the number on his phone, the ridiculous figure of 651 billion Aurum glowing back at him. He let out a long, satisfied whistle, stretching his arms over his head like a man who had just conquered the world.
"Damn... I be on that grind."
The teenager wasted no time. His fingers danced across his magic-punk phone screen, navigating through the System Shop interface. The swirling void of items, weapons, and enhancements greeted him again, but this time he didn't hesitate. He dove straight into the premium tabs, adding everything that caught his eye into his cart.
Grand Total: 66 trillion, 500 million, Aurum...
"Perfect!"