Chapter 309: How to Revenge

Paul drove the electric scooter down an empty street in the middle of the night, while Solomon sat quietly on the rear seat with a deep scowl etched onto his face.

It was a brand new scooter, identical to the one Solomon had sacrificed into the dungeon earlier that morning. He had asked Paul to purchase another one to replace it.

A while later, the scooter eventually rolled to a halt near the edge of District Seven. They both dismounted. Paul carried a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

A few blocks away, the towering, illuminated skyscraper dominated the skyline. It was the tallest building in the entire district.

Paul turned to the teenager. "Why are we here, Solomon?"

Solomon didn’t respond. He simply shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and began walking down a quiet side street. They walked in silence for a while until they reached a large, abandoned building. The structure was sealed off, surrounded by a makeshift barricade of rusted chain-link fences and caution tape, though it clearly wasn’t an official police blockade.

Solomon walked right past the warning signs, stepping over a fallen fence panel until he reached the main glass doors. They were chained shut and heavily padlocked.

"What are you trying to do?" Paul asked nervously, jogging up behind him. "We should probably—"

Before Paul could finish his sentence, Solomon raised his boot and kicked the glass doors. The reinforced glass shattered instantly, and the metal frame buckled, sending the entire entrance flying inward to crash against the lobby floor.

Paul’s face went completely pale. "Are you going to commit another major crime right now?! I do not want to get involved in any more corporate massacres! You are incredibly strong and can easily fight your way out of a situation, but I am weak! I cannot do anything! I will just end up getting arrested or killed!"

"Relax," Solomon said calmly, stepping over the shattered glass. "I actually know the owner of this building."

Paul was confused. He followed Solomon inside, glancing around the dusty, abandoned reception floor. "If you actually know the owner, then why does it feel like we are breaking and entering?"

"I just didn’t take the owner’s permission to come inside tonight," Solomon responded, walking past the ruined reception desk. "But given the current condition of this building, it doesn’t seem like the owner cares anymore."

Solomon navigated the dark, dusty corridors as if he knew the layout perfectly. He walked over to the elevator banks and pressed the call button, but the panel remained dark. As expected, there was no power running to the building.

"We will be taking the stairs," Solomon announced, pushing open the fire doors.

Solomon quickly climbed the concrete steps, maintaining a brisk pace while Paul struggled to keep up, panting under the with the duffel bag loosely hung around his shoulder.

"What is this place?" Paul asked between gasps for air. "Why are we here?"

After climbing several flights, they reached the seventh floor. Instead of continuing upward, Solomon pushed the stairwell door open and walked out onto the floor.

Paul followed him, his eyes widening as he surveyed the massive, open-concept space. The entire floor was dedicated to combat training. It featured sparring rings, reinforced target dummies, and an array of high-end, modern training equipment, all covered in a thick layer of undisturbed dust.

"This building used to be a guild," Solomon explained quietly, walking past a row of rusted weight racks.

Paul’s curiosity peaked. "I heard rumors that a lot of smaller guilds were forced to shut down in District Seven around three years ago after the tragedy. What was the name of this guild?"

Solomon smiled bitterly, trailing his hand along the ropes of a sparring ring. "It didn’t actually have a name yet."

Paul was genuinely shocked to hear that. He walked around the floor, inspecting the expensive training facilities and the sheer scale of the building. "I find that hard to believe. A guild possessing a multi-story building and this level of state-of-the-art training equipment didn’t have an official name? This place could have easily operated as a high-tier or mid-tier guild in any district."

Solomon chuckled softly. "The owner of this place, the Guild Master, was an idiot. He poured every single dime of his personal savings, mortgaged his future, and liquidated everything he owned just to build this guild and set up these premium facilities. He wanted to provide the best training environment for his members before he even bothered registering an official name."

Paul followed Solomon as he navigated back toward the stairwell.

"But since the guild was constantly running low on funds to pay for the building’s upkeep, it could not afford to bid on the high-rank dungeon exploration rights," Solomon continued, his voice echoing in the empty stairwell as they resumed their climb.

"And the low-rank public dungeons were constantly outbid and monopolized by the wealthy corporate guilds trying to choke out the competition. Because they couldn’t secure stable dungeon income, the guild could never retain loyal members who could stay behind to help it grow."

Paul watched Solomon’s back as they climbed higher. Even though he couldn’t see the teenager’s face, he could practically feel the suffocating sadness radiating from him.

"It was completely understandable why the guild members never stuck around," Solomon added softly. "Being an adventurer is a dangerous job. If the job cannot pay them enough to survive or feed their families, then they obviously have to look for a new place that can."

They took the stairs all the way up to the highest floors, bypassing the administrative offices entirely, until they finally pushed open the heavy metal doors leading out to the rooftop terrace.

The night wind howled across the abandoned roof.

Paul stood silently for a while, looking around the empty terrace and gathering his thoughts.

"I used to come up to this terrace very often," Solomon finally spoke, walking toward the edge of the roof. "Almost multiple times a day when I was training here."

Paul was shocked. "You were a member of this guild?!"

Solomon chuckled, a sad, nostalgic sound. "My girlfriend loved this terrace. Because back then, the view of the city from up here was absolutely beautiful, especially at sunset. At that time, this building was the tallest structure in the entire district. I promised her that I would stand up here and watch the view with her every single evening."

Paul was deeply confused. He couldn’t understand what Solomon was getting into, or why they were standing on a dusty roof reminiscing about the past.

Solomon raised his hand and pointed directly at the towering, illuminated skyscraper dominating the skyline a few blocks away. It was the heavily fortified headquarters of The BlueYorker’s Shield.

"That ugly building is completely blocking the view she loved," Solomon stated, his voice dropping to a freezing calm. "I have to burn it to the ground to ensure that justice is served."

That was the reason Solomon had taken a week long break from the academy.

He stepped up onto the concrete ledge.

"Justice for every single adventurer who was slaughtered in that engineered tragedy," Solomon vowed, his silver eyes locking onto the corporate tower. "Justice for the grieving families they left behind. Justice for those who still desperately seek closure in a corrupt system. Justice for the world. Justice for Serah. And justice for myself."

Before Paul could even process the profound, terrifying declaration or attempt to stop him, Solomon took a running start and leaped directly off the edge of the towering building.

Paul gasped and rushed to the ledge, looking down in sheer panic. He watched Solomon plummet toward the adjacent, lower building. Solomon landed smoothly on the rooftop, rolling to absorb the impact before instantly springing into a full sprint.

He dashed across the terrace, vaulting over the gaps between the urban structures, crossing the entire city block with practiced efficiency.

’Has he done something crazy like this before?!’ Paul wondered in absolute disbelief, watching the teenager navigate the rooftops like a phantom. ’He is so natural at this... as if this was his daily training routine...’

Solomon reached the final adjacent building. He bounded off the edge, launching himself across the gap separating him from the towering corporate headquarters.

He crashed through the reinforced glass windows of the mid-level floors, directly infiltrating the heavily fortified stronghold of The BlueYorker’s Shield.