NOVGO.NET Chapter 50: The Second Wall
Chapter 50: The Second Wall
Morning sunlight cut through the rising steam of the whistling kettle in Apartment 4B.
Fin sat at the kitchen table in faded grey sweatpants, rolling his shoulders to loosen tight back muscles.
He called up his personal status window, watching the golden interface unfold in the quiet morning air.
[ Status window: rank D certified ]
[ Level: 1 | potential: SSS | pulse: 10 ]
[ EXP: 350,700 / 2,500,000 (14.02% of rank C wall) ]
[ Attributes: strength 68 | agility 84 (252 in Overclock) | endurance 76 | sense 48 ]
[ Active skills: Overclock (rank D) ]
[ Passive traits: Frost Skin l1, Heat Resistance +15%, Toxic Blood Inoculation, Anti-Magic Hide l1, Predator’s Digestion II, Earth-Reinforcement, Threat Sense (artificial mana), Tendon Spring, Night-Eye, Blade-Shy Skin ]
Fin let out a low whistle under his breath, staring at the two-and-a-half-million EXP requirement.
"Tfff," he muttered, shaking his head at the staggering milestone.
Jolly glanced up from her student laptop without turning her head toward the glowing golden screen.
"That is your fifty-thousand face," Jolly said calmly, tapping her red pencil against the table.
"You made that exact same sound when you first showed me the old EXP wall," she added.
"Two and a half million EXP makes fifty thousand look like pocket change from a coat lining," he replied.
"Two point five million divided by fifty thousand average bounty yields equals fifty high-tier dungeon clears," Jolly calculated instantly.
"Fifty high-tier clears without corporate backup means fifty opportunities to break a collarbone," Ruby noted from the counter.
"We survived multiple Named monsters and three synthetic laboratories, so fifty clears is just honest overtime," he answered.
"Overtime on the packing line paid double wages, but overtime in dungeon vaults pays in broken ribs," Ruby pointed out.
"Broken ribs heal quickly when you have decent soup and a solid roof," Fin said with a grin.
"We also need to replace the sharpening stones and buy three spare dagger scabbards," Ruby added, pouring tea.
"Add those items to the equipment list before the morning market opens," Fin instructed, taking a sip of hot tea.
Ruby set down a platter of fried eggs, sliced sausages, and toasted flatbread between the three hunters.
"The Association posted a public bulletin for next month’s D-Rank Limit-Break Trial," Ruby said, slicing bread.
"Corporate vanguards are hyping the event on live broadcast channels to recruit new tournament champions," Maya added, chewing toast.
"We are not rushing into a televised arena before our foundation is ready," Fin said, taking a sausage.
"A hasty advance to Rank C under public cameras invites assassination from Genesis council members," Ruby agreed, nodding firmly.
"We take the trial when our house is strong enough to survive the political fallout," Fin concluded with resolve.
"The public trial gives our squad a legitimate venue to establish our official charter," Maya pointed out.
"Until then, we operate quietly in the lower sectors and gather our resources," Fin instructed the squad.
"We also need to secure a dedicated storage depot for large monster carcasses," Maya noted, taking a sip of tea.
"A private freezer vault will allow us to store high-grade cores without attracting municipal inspectors," she added.
"Bram knows a wholesale meat merchant in District Four with a vacant basement locker," Fin replied, nodding in agreement.
"We can rent that locker for three hundred credits a month to conduct our private residue tests," Ruby suggested.
"Three hundred credits is reasonable for a secure facility with zero surveillance cameras," Fin agreed with a nod.
Jolly pushed her laptop aside, placing two thick spiral notebooks squarely in the center of the table.
Notebook One was bound in green paper, marked with neat black ink: Household & Groceries.
Notebook Two was bound in dark grey cloth, stamped with bold red letters: War & Logistics.
"We are splitting our operational funds into two distinct ledgers starting this morning," Jolly announced with solemn authority.
"Green Ledger manages rent, rice sacks, frying pans, utility bills, and my college savings fund," she explained.
"Grey Ledger tracks encrypted flash drives, medical trauma kits, ammunition crates, and our secret emergency freezer," she continued.
"How much surplus do we have in the green account?" Fin asked, picking up a pen.
"Six months of rent paid in advance, plus forty-two thousand credits available for operations, with household purchases and a separate petty-cash purse already deducted," Jolly reported with pride.
"That means the roof over our heads is secured through next spring," Fin said, signing his initials on both covers.
Ruby picked up the pen next, writing her signature across the first page of the war ledger without hesitation.
Maya stared at the grey notebook for three silent seconds, her fingers tapping her silver stylus against her chin.
"A private war ledger makes me an official accomplice to illegal anti-corporate operations," Maya pointed out with a smirk.
"You already hacked three Genesis mainframes, so your legal innocence expired at midnight," Ruby retorted dryly.
"True, but an official signature implies long-term equity investment," Maya answered, twirling her stylus between her fingers.
"We split all dungeon salvage and corporate bounties equally among active squad members," Fin offered in plain terms.
"Equal shares and guaranteed medical coverage is better than any corporate sponsor contract," Maya admitted, smiling softly.
Maya pressed her pen to the paper to sign her name in small, precise script beside Ruby’s signature.
"Corporal Maya, attached logistics and telemetry partner for the long haul," she said, closing the book.
Fin reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small stamp case bought for twenty credits from a flea market.
Inside the box lay a set of movable rubber alphabet stamps and a circular pad of dark purple ink.
He arranged the individual letters inside the handle with deliberate care, tightening the side screw.
Fin pressed the stamp into the purple ink pad, testing the pressure before turning toward the kitchen wall.
He walked over to a blank scrap of brown butcher paper pinned beside the front door.
With a firm, decisive motion, Fin pressed the rubber stamp onto the paper to mark their official identity.
[ Entity declared: Halden House (independent strike guild) ]
The bold purple letters spelled out Halden House in crisp ink against the rough butcher paper.
"Halden House is officially open for business," Fin declared, setting the wooden stamp on the counter.
"We do not have a gold seal from City Hall yet," Ruby noted, looking at the fresh ink.
"A gold seal from City Hall is just permission from politicians who run away during alarms," Maya countered cynically.
"In this room, the roof is solid and the foundation is paid in full," Fin said, looking at his family.
"Now we need to stock the kitchen pantry before the market prices jump again," Jolly noted, checking her grocery column.
"I will buy fifty kilos of potatoes and a replacement skillet at the morning market," Fin promised his sister.
Outside the window, the billboards tracked the Pacific leviathan’s course toward their coastline.
The gate already stood open overseas; nobody could give Jonxy a reliable landfall date.
Emergency sirens wailed faintly in the distance, echoing over a city that had no idea who claimed the lower district.
Fin looked at the drying purple ink on the wall, then back at the two open ledgers on the table.
"Let them argue over forecasts on television," Fin said with quiet, unyielding certainty.
"We have work to do."