...

Zastan frowned slightly, examining the large experience gap between his current level and the next. "Still a long way to go for Level 3," he mused, leaning back on the sofa. "The experience needed is kinda massive… but we'll eventually get there."

Closing the interface, Zastan relaxed, his mind racing with ideas. The influx of resources and new capabilities opened a world of possibilities, but he needed to think strategically about the next steps.

"How could I generate large amounts of money easily?" His thoughts wandered through numerous ways, some were legal, others were not.

He tapped his fingers rhythmically on the armrest, thinking aloud. "The Biochemicals… they're strong, fast, obedient. Perfect assets for operations that require manpower. I've got the weapons, the tech, the personnel. Everything's basically lined up."

His thoughts sharpened as he considered specific ventures. "A security firm could be lucrative, especially with the right clientele. We could start small, private protection, bodyguards for VIPs, that sort of thing. Or…" Zastan paused, a darker thought crossing his mind. "A hitman service. Pay for targets, full discretion guaranteed. The Biochemicals are perfect for that kind of work."

Zastan weighed the options carefully. Both paths would require significant resources, connections, and, importantly, reputation. Clients would need to trust that his operations could deliver without fail. After some deliberation, he decided that establishing a security firm was the more feasible option for now—it was a safer start that could build a positive reputation and connections.

"Let's put the hitman idea on hold," Zastan muttered, jotting down notes in his planner. "Security services first. Build the name, gather clients, establish a foothold. Then, when the time is right, we can expand into… less savory territory."

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Darius entered, his expression curious but attentive. "You wanted to see me, Young Master?"

"Yes, Darius." Zastan leaned forward, his demeanor shifting into a more serious tone. "I've decided on our next venture. I want to establish a security firm. Start looking into setting up a shooting range nearby—I want the

Biochemicals trained and ready. We'll be offering premium security services, so they need to be top-notch."

Darius nodded, already making mental notes. "Understood, Young Master. I'll arrange for the setup immediately. I'll also look into potential training programs to refine their skills."

"Good." Zastan nodded approvingly. "Make sure they're prepared. I don't want any weak links."

Darius nodded firmly and left the room, ready to set the plan in motion. As Zastan leaned back once more, satisfied with the day's progress, his phone suddenly rang. The screen showed an unknown number. He hesitated for a moment but decided to answer.

"Who's this?" Zastan asked, his voice cautious.

"Hey, Zastan! It's Elara," came a familiar and cheerful voice from the other end. "I've got some news! My best friends and I are planning a trip, and we were thinking… why not invite you along?"

Zastan's lips curled into a smile at the sound of Elara's voice. "A trip, huh? Sounds interesting. Where are you planning to go?"

"We're going to the SkyDeck tomorrow morning," Elara replied, her excitement palpable even over the phone. "We want to be there by 10 AM, but we're meeting up at 9 AM because, you know, the lines are crazy long."

Zastan nodded thoughtfully, already mentally rearranging his schedule. "Alright, I'm in. I'll be there on time."

"Great!" Elara's voice was filled with enthusiasm. "It's going to be fun, I promise. See you then!"

As the call ended, Zastan set his phone down, his mind briefly drifting away from the heavy responsibilities and towards a day of lighthearted enjoyment. It wasn't often that he allowed himself the luxury of leisure, but a day out with Elara and her friends sounded like a perfect break amidst the storm of business and plans.

Stolen novel; please report.

...

"Darius, make sure someone's ready to pick me up at 8 AM tomorrow morning," Zastan instructed, his tone casual but clear. "I don't want to be late."

Darius nodded, making a mental note of the request. "Understood, Young Master. I'll have the car ready for you."

With that settled, Zastan left the warehouse, feeling a rare sense of anticipation for the day ahead. But as he made his way through the bustling operations, he decided to make one last check on the progress of his investments. Heading toward the storage area, he withdrew a fresh pile of gold from his gold mine, watching as the shimmering metal materialized in front of him. Satisfied, he instructed the staff to handle the refining process and make sure he received the proceeds from the sale.

Just as he was about to step out, something caught his eye. In one of the large containers, hundreds of neatly stacked metal rods lay in perfect rows, gleaming under the warehouse lights. Zastan stopped abruptly and turned toward Darius, a curious expression crossing his face.

"What's this?" Zastan asked, gesturing towards the rods.

Darius smiled, a hint of pride in his expression. "Ah, Young Master, I was going to tell you earlier, but you seemed in a hurry. We've actually started production already. The efficiency is still increasing, but we're making solid progress. These rods are just the beginning."

Zastan's eyes widened slightly, a glint of satisfaction flashing in them. "Excellent work. Keep pushing the efficiency—every second counts." He then proceeded to withdraw all the iron from the iron mine, watching as the newly produced iron bars joined the growing pile of resources beside the metal rods. He nodded approvingly at the sight of the steadily increasing stockpile, confident that the operation was on the right track.

...

As he settled into the back seat of the car, Zastan leaned back and turned his attention to the small television screen embedded in the vehicle. The news broadcast was dominated by a gripping report.

A high-profile A-Level criminal had managed to escape from a maximum-security prison. The anchor's voice was tense as she relayed the latest updates, mentioning that the criminal had last been spotted near the bustling streets of Solara District, just a few blocks from the SkyDeck building where Zastan was headed.

Zastan listened with mild interest, his expression impassive. The broadcast showed images of the fugitive.

A tall, imposing figure with a cold, calculating gaze. He had a notorious reputation for violent crimes, and his escape had thrown the city into a state of heightened alert.

As the news continued, Zastan noticed the increased presence of law enforcement personnel on the streets outside. Every few minutes, sirens blared as police cars sped past, their lights flashing urgently.

Glancing out the window, Zastan could see clusters of heavily armed officers and security personnel scanning the area, their eyes sharp and alert. Some carried rifles, others were stationed behind makeshift barricades, all contributing to the tense atmosphere that gripped the city.

Despite the heightened security and the evident danger, Zastan remained unfazed. He leaned back in his seat, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "The odds of running into that criminal are slim," he muttered to himself, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. "And even if I did, well… it's not like I'm defenseless." The faint confidence in his voice hinted at the quiet power he holds. The weapons, the Biochemicals, and the security measures at his disposal.

For Zastan, the system wasn't just a tool; it was a shield, a sword, and a force multiplier that gave him an edge in almost any situation. The notion of danger barely registered as a threat when he knew he had the means to counter it. To him, the city's chaotic response was just another event unfolding around him, one that he could observe from the comfort of his own protected bubble.

As the car continued its journey toward the SkyDeck, Zastan allowed himself a brief moment of reflection. The bustling cityscape of Luminae passed by his window in a blur of lights and motion, yet his mind was fixed on the many tasks that lay ahead. It was rare for him to indulge in a day of leisure, especially with his empire taking shape at such a rapid pace.

"It's only been 2 weeks, and yet... I'm already here..." Zastan muttered to himself, almost in disbelief.

...

Upon arriving at the towering skyscraper that housed the Luminae SkyDeck, Zastan's car pulled up to the curb with practiced precision. The door was opened by one of his Biochemical Persons, and Zastan stepped out, exuding an air of quiet confidence. As he approached the entrance, he noticed a long queue stretching along the sidewalk. Groups of people huddled together, glancing nervously at their phones, murmuring in low voices. Zastan quickly deduced the cause—word had spread about the A-level criminal who had escaped earlier that morning.

"Guess they're all jittery about that escaped guy," Zastan thought, scanning the crowd. He kept his composure, maintaining the cool detachment he was known for. To him, the odds of encountering the criminal were slim, and even if they did cross paths, he felt confident that his own abilities and his biochemical person would suffice.

Minutes later, the screech of tires pierced the air, drawing the attention of those nearby. A sleek, red sports car called Riptide sped into view, its vibrant paint job gleaming under the sunlight. Zastan raised an eyebrow, curious as to who might arrive in such flashy fashion. As the driver's window rolled down, a familiar face emerged.

"I should've listened to the news..."

...