Chapter 42: The Spend King Buys a Ghost Town
The car rolled through a landscape that time had abandoned.The shocking thing is he acquired the system again.
Dust spiraled in lazy curls behind the black SUV, rising into the still afternoon like ghosts of a forgotten past. On either side of the cracked road, wilted trees leaned forward as though trying to whisper forgotten secrets. The earth was dry and fractured. Even the breeze seemed hesitant, unsure whether it belonged here anymore.
Ahead, like a faded scar on the horizon, stood the remnants of a town.
No people. No sound. No motion. Just boarded windows, tilted streetlamps, and buildings that wore decay like second skin. Some houses still stood stubbornly upright.
Others had caved in on themselves, surrendering to years of silence. A lone swing in a half-collapsed playground creaked as the wind nudged it back and forth — a haunting lullaby that no children would ever hear again.
No one would come here willingly.But Nishanth had come. Not for nostalgia. Not for mercy.He came because dead places held value when viewed through the right eyes.
From the back seat, he watched the world pass in fragments. He wasn’t staring at the ruins , he was calculating. Weighing silence against possibility. His fingers tapped gently against the seat’s leather edge, a steady rhythm that mirrored his internal clockwork. Sharp. Focused. Ruthless.
The driver slowed as they approached an iron gate barely clinging to its hinges. A rusted sign dangled crookedly, the lettering nearly gone.
"Marigold Township."
Nishanth stepped out of the vehicle, his polished leather shoes making a dull thud against cracked pavement. Dust clung to the hem of his coat, but he didn’t flinch. His gaze scanned the land slowly, like an artist studying a blank canvas, not for what it was, but for what it could become.
The air here didn’t smell of rot or sewage like some slums in the city.It smelled of nothing. No life. No decay. Just emptiness.