Chapter 553: Chapter 537: Easily Handled

[Protocol triggered: ’Quantum State Soul Lock’ activated.]

[Awakening primary backup consciousness...]

[Awakening successful.]

Deep Blue Residence, underground secret chamber.

In the climate-controlled air, an Alchemy Puppet looking exactly like Allen lay on a silver-white metal platform inscribed with countless defensive Runes.

The faint blue light of the Hephaestus Type I Alchemy Engine in its chest brightened, emitting a low rumble. The puppet’s eyes snapped open! Data streams flashed like waterfalls in its deep blue eyes. The probability cloud collapsed, the consciousness transfer completed seamlessly, and Allen calmly returned from death.

He didn’t experience any distinct near-death sensation. To him, it felt like closing his eyes and opening them again, only to log into a different server.

Allen sat up and smoothed out his entirely wrinkle-free sleeves. He immediately pulled up Jarvis’s system logs.

"The last consciousness backup was seven hours ago.

"Current time... I’ve been ’dead’ for seven hours."

Due to bandwidth limitations and the underlying rules of the Soul Lock, only one consciousness backup was allowed to be in an "observed" excited state at any given time.

When the soul of the body in Purgatory was voluntarily "deleted" by him, it reverted from "Allen" into a pile of pure scrap metal. Consequently, this backup body in the Deep Blue Residence had lost all memories from the moment the consciousness was uploaded up until its self-destruction.

It was a seven-hour information blackout.

"Jarvis, pull up all my action contingencies prior to losing contact."

A light screen unfolded before him, listing dozens of contingency plans for different scenarios.

"Plan A, negotiations go smoothly, initial cooperation reached.

"Plan B, negotiations break down, the other party attempts forceful imprisonment.

"Plan C, the other party tries to set a trap through a contract...

"I see.

"Now, it all depends on whether my seven hours of ’extreme public relations’ managed to pry open a Purgatory Monarch’s greedy nature.

"And whether Mammon is considered a... ’smart demon’ who knows how to weigh the pros and cons."

He turned and walked toward the stairs leading to the surface. His steps retained that aristocratic elegance, as if he hadn’t just taken a trip to Hell, but had merely attended a mundane tea party.

When Allen’s figure appeared at the door of the second-floor study, the listless Soul Fire guarding the Sacrificial Array shuddered violently, nearly dissipating into a sky full of sparks on the spot.

"M-Master?!"

Sargeras let out an off-key shriek. He was still reeling from his previous shock, unable to extricate himself.

Going to the 7th Floor of Purgatory alone to face the Greed Demon King! In Sargeras’s eyes, this was no different from voluntarily shoving a piece of fresh meat into a meat grinder! What absolute madness! What an audacious move!

Sargeras completely failed to comprehend it. How was this any different from seeking death? Yet now, the man had walked out of the basement completely unscathed? What kind of Witchcraft was this? Could it be that the one who went to Purgatory was a fake?!

Allen cast a faint glance at him, having zero interest in explaining his "cloud save" mechanism. He walked straight to the large desk, sat down, and began dealing with the matters that had piled up over the past seven hours.

This composure and calm deepened the fear in the very depths of Sargeras’s soul. This new master seemed far more mysterious than many of the White Wizards he knew.

The next day.

Sargeras’s Soul Fire flickered erratically. Like a severe concussion patient whose entire worldview had collapsed, he reported to Allen in a dazed tone.

"Master... Monarch Mammon, He... He reopened the Sacrificial Array."

"Mhm," Allen responded without looking up, approving a budget for Wesren Heavy Industry.

"He... He sent back the wreckage of your Alchemy Puppet, completely intact." Sargeras’s flame trembled violently, as if recalling an utterly absurd scene. "And... He also included a message."

"Speak."

Sargeras swallowed non-existent saliva, feeling as though his demonic common sense was being mercilessly trampled. That was Mammon, the Greed Demon King! The Mammon who never spat out even a crumb of what He consumed!

He recalled the scene from just moments ago: spatial ripples had echoed out, and a delicate Alchemy Puppet had been "thrown" out of the rift by a forcefully restrained power, landing steadily on the study’s carpet.

It was exactly the one Allen had "lost" in the Greed Demon Palace yesterday.

Then, Mammon’s gnashing voice, sounding as though it had been squeezed through His teeth, echoed through the closing rift:

"The job... I’ll take it! Bring me the deposit, right now!"

As soon as the words fell, the spatial rift deadlocked with an instant SNAP, as if shutting a second later would cause the Greedy Monarch to lose control of His urge to renege and rush over to snatch the puppet back.

Sargeras’s Soul Fire froze in midair, plunging into utter stupefaction.

"The body was sent... sent back?" Sargeras thought. "What exactly happened? And who was the one that appeared yesterday? And judging by that tone, He sounds as aggrieved as if ten thousand mountains of gold had been stolen from Him."

Allen finally stopped his work and looked up. He walked slowly into the study, which still held a lingering scent of sulfur, and looked at the Alchemy Puppet that had been returned intact on the floor.

It looked exactly like his dead self. He reached out a slender finger and pressed it against the puppet’s forehead.

[Verification passed. Reading physical sensory logs...]

[Memory timestamp synchronizing...]

The next second, a complete memory flooded into Allen’s consciousness from a first-person perspective.

He "saw" himself walking into the demon palace forged of gold and white bones, calmly dealing with Mammon while surrounded by dozens of High-tier Demons.

He "heard" himself throw out the absurd statement of an "investor’s on-site inspection," turning the tables and transforming the Greedy Monarch’s boasting into an assessment of His supply chain.

He "felt" Mammon’s explosive desire for greed when he introduced the business model of a "fifteen million budget" and "taking kickbacks."

Finally, he "witnessed" the moment Mammon revealed His true intentions and tore up the agreement, as well as his own absolute resolve when initiating the self-destruct sequence without a moment’s hesitation.

The entire process was like a meticulously choreographed stage play. Every expression, every word, and every pause landed precisely on the balance point of Mammon’s greed and vigilance.

"I see."

The corners of Allen’s lips curled up slightly.

He walked over to Sargeras, who was still stuck in a stupor from extreme shock, and reached out to pat the illusory Soul Fire. The gesture scared the demon so much that he nearly dissipated on the spot.

"You see, Sargeras, this is the charm of commerce.

"Go, inform Mammon." Allen’s voice brooked no refusal. "Tell Him that as my first client, I appreciate His boldness. The initial five million ’advance payment’ will be paid in installments within a month.

"Also, tell Him to move quickly." A cold glint flashed through Allen’s deep blue eyes. "I hope to hear Kaspar Murphy’s wails of planar bankruptcy as soon as possible."

With that, Allen turned and left.

His gaze fell on the light screen projected by Jarvis, which displayed a reconstructed resource distribution map of the 7th Floor of Purgatory, based on the intelligence Mammon had revealed while boasting.

The Despair Mountain Range, Blood Mercury River, Time Erosion Crystal Ore...

These strategic resources, which had been hyped up to astronomical prices in the Wizarding World, were merely background props used by Demon Lords to show off their martial prowess in Purgatory.

That Purgatory Demon Iron, though not considered a Dawn Star Level material, possessed extremely high negative energy resistance. It was an excellent material for dealing with Black Wizards and had always been in short supply on the market.

Technology truly was the primary productive force. The fifteen million Soul Coins he had promised corresponded to a production cost of only 375 million Low-Level Magic Stones. This paltry sum wasn’t even enough for him to forge a single Dawn Star Level Golem.

But now, it could buy off several Dawn Star Level Demon Legions to attack a Plane for him, while also allowing him to earn a massive resource price difference in passing.

A terrifying ambition, even greater than that of the Greed Demon King, flickered in Allen’s deep blue eyes.

"Speaking of which...

"This place, Purgatory, is truly an undeveloped virgin land littered with gold.

"It’s just that the extraction efficiency is too primitive, too inefficient.

"It’s simply a crime against resources.

"If there’s a chance, it would be wonderful to let Purgatory... feel the spring breeze of industrialization too."

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