Chapter 539 – Ghost Loop
He didn’t blink.
Didn’t smile.
Just said it like it was math.
Corvus let out a low whistle, still perched comfortably on Lux’s shoulder, wings fluffed slightly like he was enjoying the heat radiating off the devil in CFO mode.
But before the bird could say sothing smug again, the hologram screens flickered.
Then flashed red.
A low chi buzzed through the room, polite but urgent.
[Alert: Network link to the Old Greed Tower has been lost.]
[Status: Unknown. Tracepath: Failed. Reconnect attempts: 4. No response.]
Lux’s head tilted slightly.
"Lost?"
[The signal vanished, sir. Unexpectedly. Intermittent connection noted previously. Appears and disappears at irregular intervals. Every sixty seconds, approximately.]
Lux frowned. "A ghost link?"
[That would be the appropriate term.]
Lux’s fingers flexed. "So Zoltarin’s using a special channel."
[Affirmative. Ghost-tier network. Undetectable through standard tracking. Exists half-in-system, half-out.]
Corvus flapped once, hopping down to the table with a thud.
"I know that one," he said, feathers rustling. "That’s no mortal circuit. That’s a Lord’s weave. An old one. Real old. Scarce as fuck. Moves like a ghost because it’s bound to a concept, not a server."
Lux arched an eyebrow. "A concept?"
Corvus nodded. "Every royal has their domain. Greed. Lust. Envy. But so of them? They embedded part of that domain into the architecture of Hell’s networks before the firewall age. Greed tower had one. A ghost circuit. Connects to anything... if you know the signature."
"And Zoltarin does," Lux muttered.
"Of course he does," Corvus replied. "It’s his vault too. Or it was. Before your daddy got smart and sealed everything up with paperwork and a few heads on pikes."
Lux leaned forward.
The air shifted.
Warmth gone.
He wasn’t the prince on vacation anymore.
He was the one who rewrote tax codes using infernal blood. The one who balanced a global supply chain by blinking.
"System," he said quietly.
[Ready.]
"Activate TechnoGreed."
[Warning: TechnoGreed is a high-risk override. Your target is not a mortal machine.]
"I know," Lux said. "Do it anyway."
[Confird.]
The interface changed. The holograms warped into sharp, jagged pulses, like circuitry drawn in cursed gold. The center of the network map bled static. Dozens of threads twisted and weaved into nothing.
A ghost loop.
Lux reached out.
His fingertip hovered just above the pulse line.
Then touched.
The system hissed, mana channeling through the tips of his fingers like molten wire. His pupils narrowed. Symbols lit up under his skin, glowing along his forearm, sigils tied to his Greed bloodline, to old contracts, to codes only the royal line could access.
[TechnoGreed: Initiated.]
[Objective: Hijack ghost-tier link.]
[Connection attempted...]
It wasn’t like cracking a mortal server. There was no firewall, no neat rows of data.
This was a clash.
The mont his magic touched the thread, sothing bit back.
Lux flinched. Gritted his teeth. The ghost code twisted and coiled like it was alive, rejecting him like antibodies on fire. It knew him. It recognized him. But not as friend.
As threat.
The feedback hit his nerves like acid.
He growled, pushing harder.
[Overload warning.]
[Network rejecting input.]
[Conflict: Zoltarin signature engaged.]
[Greed domain crossover detected.]
"Co on..." he muttered. "Give sothing. Give a na. A link. A thread—"
It snapped.
Not the connection.
His fingers.
He jerked his hand back with a hiss as arcs of red-hot pain lashed up his arm. The screens collapsed instantly. His breath ca out ragged.
The tips of his fingers were burned. Blackened. Still smoking.
Corvus flinched and let out a sharp caw. "Shit. You okay?"
Lux didn’t answer.
Not right away.
He just stared at his hand. At the tremble in his fingers. At the charred edges of his skin already starting to heal, mana struggling to knit tissue back together.
He didn’t even hear Lullaby stir from the couch, still curled in half-dream, mumbling sothing soft into the velvet.
[System Status Report:]
[TechnoGreed: Failed. Connection override denied.]
[Injury sustained: Moderate mana-burn. Regeneration in progress.]
[Neural fatigue detected.]
[Recomnded: Rest and low-stimulus input.]
[Likelihood of success on second attempt: 0.04%]
Corvus tilted his head. "You tried to brute-force a lord-tier signature ghost line with your own skillset? Ballsy."
Lux still didn’t speak.
Just stared at the faint tendrils of smoke curling off his hand.
Then?
He grinned.
It wasn’t the clean grin he used in press conferences or seductions.
It was the other one.
The ugly one.
The grin that ant he found a wall and now he had to break it.
"Oh, it’s rare to see you like this," Corvus said, hopping closer. "Burned. Bloody. And smiling like a lunatic. You like that pain?"
"No," Lux said, voice low. "I like what it ans."
"And that is?"
Lux raised his hand again, watching the smoke fade.
"It ans Zoltarin’s scared," he said. "Because he didn’t just hide the door. He ard it."
Corvus blinked.
"That network wasn’t just ghost-tier," Lux said. "It was rigged to recognize . It wasn’t rejecting intruders. It was rejecting specifically."
"...So he’s expecting you," Corvus said slowly.
Lux looked at his burned hand.
Then closed it into a fist.
"Good."
The bird gave a low whistle.
He stood slowly.
Lullaby shifted again in his lap, murmuring sothing like "Luxy..." in her sleep, clinging tighter to his shirt.
He let her stay.
His other hand hovered over the control interface.
Corvus cocked his head. "What now?"
Lux stared at the fragnted code glowing on the last open screen.
He could feel it.
The pressure.
The tug of legacy. Of sothing buried clawing back to the surface.
Zoltarin had made his move.
Which ant...
Lux smiled again.
His heartbeat calm.
The kind of calm that usually ca before sothing exploded. Quiet, deliberate, predatory. Not rage. Not ego. Sothing colder than both. A choice.
"I think it’s ti," he said softly, "to et him in person. Again."
Corvus, who had been preening one wing with obnoxious smugness, froze mid-feather.
"...What do you an again?" the bird asked warily, one eye squinting like it was bracing for impact.
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