NOVEL NEXT Chapter 346: Dumpster-tier
For a moment, the silence in the cramped studio stretched, heavy and suffocating. Elias was still on the floor, catching his breath, his knuckles scraped raw from where he'd tried to throw a punch.
The collectors shifted, exchanging glances, clearly uncertain if they should stay or drag their boss out.
And Thomas—Thomas glared. His smirk faltered, but he forced it back, jaw tight, sweat beginning to shine on his forehead. "You think you can stand there and talk down to me? I own this street. I own companies that chew through people like him—" he pointed down at Elias—"and spit out the bones. You have no idea who you're dealing with."
Lux's smirk curled sharp, wolfish.
"Oh, I know exactly who I'm dealing with."
[Draining Assets…]
[-$1,200,000 liquid funds siphoned.]
[Equity Stake: 17% of Crosswell Holdings forcibly transferred.]
[Offshore Account: Frozen. $3,400,000 inaccessible.]
[Pending Lawsuit: Triggered.]
[Remaining Net Worth: $380,000.]
[Status Update: "Greed, but Rotten. Dumpster-tier."]
Lux's smile widened into something predatory. He leaned in close enough for Thomas to feel the heat of his breath.
"You are a greed," he murmured. "But I don't like it. This greed of yours—it stinks. Not the rich reek of money. No. You reek like dumpsters. Rotting trash wearing a suit."
Thomas flinched. He didn't even know why. He just knew something in his gut told him this man wasn't bluffing.
His phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Then nonstop.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and froze. Notifications flooded in: account freezes, emergency bank flags, asset seizures. He swiped furiously, hands shaking.
"No… no, no, no, this isn't possible!" he barked, voice cracking.
The collectors leaned in, confused. "Boss?"
Another call came through. Thomas answered, his voice trembling now. "What? What do you mean they took control? That's my account! My funds—"
Lux smirked, sipping his imaginary wine again, perfectly calm.
Thomas slammed the phone shut, eyes darting around like a trapped animal. "I need to go. Now. I have business."
He jabbed a finger toward Elias, his desperation leaking through. "This isn't over. You still need to pay! We aren't finished yet!"
Lux's laugh was smooth, almost gentle. But it was the kind of gentle that froze blood.
"Oh, you're finished already," he said. "Now the business is just between him and me."
Thomas snarled. "We also haven't finished yet!"
He stormed out with his collectors, the sound of their shoes slamming across the tile like retreating thunder.
Silence stretched in their wake.
Elias, still catching his breath, stared up at Lux like he was staring at something unreal. His voice came quiet, hesitant. "…What did you just do?"
Lux pushed off the wall, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. "I handled trash. Nothing more." His tone softened, businesslike now. "Now. We need to talk."
Elias blinked. "Talk?"
"Yes." Lux crossed the floor, his stride smooth, controlled. "If I'm going to fund this place, I need to know what I'm getting in return. Contracts. Assets. Clauses. I want everything clear." He stopped just a few feet away, eyes gleaming. "Don't worry—I don't like working. I'm on vacation. So I'm only looking for a win-win deal. Nothing messy. Nothing bureaucratic. Just efficient."
Elias scrambled up, brushing dust from his jeans, still shaken. "Yes. Of course. I—uh—yes. I can show you around. Our projects, prototypes, the works." He hesitated, then asked softly, "Uh… what's your name, sir?"
Lux smirked, like he'd been waiting for that question.
"Lux Vaelthorn."
The name lingered in the air like smoke, heavy and dangerous.
Elias shivered. He didn't know why the sound of that name made his chest tighten, but it did. He swallowed, nodded quickly, and said, "Right. Mr. Vaelthorn—uh, Lux—please… come with me. I'll show you what we've been working on."
Lux tilted his head. "Good. Impress me. That's not easy to do."
Elias gave a nervous laugh and led the way deeper into the small building. The place wasn't glamorous—no polished marble floors or sleek corporate furniture. The walls were plaster, old paint curling at the edges. The air smelled of stale coffee, faint ozone from overheated machines, and the metallic tang of burnt-out wires. A single aircon unit rattled like it was fighting for its life.
And yet—beneath all the rough edges—Lux felt something. A pulse. Energy. Creativity. Desperation turned into fuel. He could almost taste it, and it was better than wine.
They entered a larger room lined with mismatched desks, towers of cables, monitors stacked on risers built from old crates. Six people were working inside—three typing furiously, two with VR rigs strapped to their faces, one sketching characters on a tablet. All of them looked up when Elias walked in with Lux at his heels.
"Everyone," Elias said, clearing his throat, "this is… Lux Vaelthorn. He's considering… funding us."
That word—funding—hit the room like lightning. The sketcher's stylus froze mid-line. The VR testers yanked their headsets off. Someone dropped a coffee cup.
Lux just smiled, slow and easy. He could feel the eyes on him, feel their desperation, their hunger, their hope. It was intoxicating.
He strolled forward, hands in his pockets, gaze drifting over the messy rows of half-built prototypes. "Show me your crown jewel," he said. "The one that keeps you awake at night. The one that makes all this worth it."
Elias blinked, then nodded quickly. "Yes. Of course. Here." He motioned to one of the VR rigs in the corner—a battered station with wires spilling like veins. The headpiece was patched with tape, the gloves mismatched brands. But the monitor next to it glowed with a title screen: Erebus Gate.
Lux arched a brow. "Dramatic name."
"It's our next-gen VR platform," Elias said, voice shaking with both nerves and pride. "Fully immersive. Adaptive AI that learns player behavior in real time. No scripted NPCs. Everything is generated on the fly. The world itself reshapes depending on your decisions. We've built the framework for international release, but we've only launched the demo for this country alone."