God of Zero Cost

The Gaba’on Stalker thrashing within the terra-cotta vice let out a deafening, metallic shriek. Its slate skin began to fissure, bleeding thick streams of glowing yellow phosphor pixels—the universal indicator that the boss had entered its final thirty-percent health frenzy.

The frenzy phase, Ethan calculated, his back pressed tight against the cool mud bricks as a piece of stone shattered inches from his shoulder. It is going to double its attack velocity. The standard tank defensive rotations won't hold the line anymore.

"Watch the tail!" the Merlion captain screamed, his silver-and-crimson sash trailing in the mud as he tumbled backward. "The aggro is fracturing! The shield wall cannot absorb the impact!"

The battlefield had dissolved into a chaotic, uncoordinated brawl. Both syndicates were panic-buying positioning, their formations breaking apart as players from the secondary ranks scrambled forward to steal the final hit.

Ethan reached into his burlap apron, his fingers brushing against the four remaining deployable clay bricks.

Time to squeeze the margins.

He slipped through the swirling dust, tracking the frantic movement of a secondary Pixel Rex raid unit that had just been isolated by a sudden rockfall.

"Rear-guard protection block," Ethan said, stepping beside a Level 9 Vanguard whose Naue II blade was notched and smoking from friction. "The boss is prepping a horizontal tail sweep. Throw this brick five paces behind your line. It drops a three-metre wall to catch the kinetic recoil. Price is three Silver Shekels, direct ledger trade."

"Three shekels?" the warrior shouted, his eyes darting to the towering tail rising over the thicket. "That's an extortionate rate for a piece of clay, you F2P vulture!"

"Two shekels for the brick, one shekel for the convenience," Ethan replied, his voice flat as he checked his active ledger. "You have four seconds before the animation frame completes. Pay or die."

Ping.

The warrior snatched the heavy, ochre stone and hurled it behind his rank. The item hit the gravel and erupted with a violent, grinding snap into a thick, sun-baked ceramic barrier. A split second later, the stalker's tail slammed the brickwork with a dull, echoing thump. The ceramic shattered into red shards, but it absorbed the entire kinetic shock wave, keeping the Pixel Rex rear guard firmly on their feet.

Suddenly, a bright crimson system error flashed across Ethan's visor, overriding his victory.

Ethan’s stomach plummeted. Up on the ramparts, Bochim was staring at his remote financial log, his face twisted in absolute fury. He had finally noticed the systemic drain—he was paying for the very porridge that was fuelling Ethan's extortion loop.

"Cut him off!" Bochim’s roar echoed over the ravine. "The rat is bleeding my ledger to build those walls! Kill the boss, then flag that mud-picker for a permanent graveyard camp!"

Without the automated food subsidy, Ethan’s stamina bar went cold, plunging instantly into a deep, flashing red deficit. The artificial chemical buffer from his capsule bypass shattered. All at once, the brutal reality of his twenty-six-hour sleepless marathon crashed into his virtual limbs. His knees buckled. His vision blurred into a sickening, gray haze. His heart hammered violently against his haptic vest back in Singapore, his actual brain screaming for oxygen.

He had three bricks left, and he could barely lift his arm. If he fainted here, Pixel Rex would butcher his catatonic avatar and reclaim every silver piece.

He had to end this now.

Dragging his heavy, unresponsive boots through the muck, he lunged across the stream bed toward the Merlion Holdings back line, where their support casters were running entirely out of mana.

"Last-mile... funnel blocks," Ethan rasped, his throat burning as he held up his final three modular stones to a frantic Level 12 elite skirmisher. He forced his dying focus to lock. "The boss's pathing grid is about to execute a blind forward rush. Throw these three in a triangular wedge. It forces the beast’s skull to drop directly onto your frontline targeting reticles. Five Silver Shekels for the set."

"Buy them! Buy them now!" the Merlion raid leader screamed from the mud, his bronze cuirass cracked down the center. "Don't let Pixel Rex claim the tax exemption!"

Ping.

The three bricks left his burlap apron, sailing through the air as the Merlion casters hurled them into the central bottleneck.

The earth roared for the final time. Three massive, interlocking slabs of dark red, heat-hardened ceramic slammed into the ground and caught the charging Gaba’on Stalker mid-stride. The giant beast’s skull was funnelled downward, perfectly pinned and completely exposed to the high-level slashing Naue II swords.

As the final blades from Merlion Holdings descended onto the trapped boss's neck, Ethan’s level milestone bar flew across his visual interface, pulsing in a blinding, deep gold.

The golden light faded, leaving Ethan slumped against the cold mud bricks of the foundation wall. He was completely out of stamina, his vision narrowing into a dangerous pinprick tunnel. He had won the economic skirmish—his pouch was heavy with stolen corporate silver—but his safety loop was gone.

Up on the ridges, Bochim’s heavily armed squad was already descending the ropes, their eyes locked onto Ethan with lethal intent.

The moon phase contract still had four days left. Ethan thought, his breathing ragged as he gripped his blunt bronze trowel in the darkness. They think they've cornered me. But they still have to step on my earth.