Vega's unwavering confidence stemmed from one irrefutable truth: he was powerful enough to back it up.
Over the past days, he'd amassed a staggering hoard of experience points—harvested from Nacro City's heaviest prisons and the corpses of Pendleton Syndicate rebels. Now, his Cursed Armor had reached +10 Enhancement, unlocking terrifying potential.
When activated, the Sigil:
Multiplied his physical abilities tenfold.
Amplified his Nen reserves.
Granted near-impenetrable defense. (Light weapons barely scratched him, though blocking attacks drained minor stamina.)
It wasn't yet on par with legends like Uvogin (who laughed off rockets), but against foes weaker than yin beast? More than sufficient.
And Vega had reserves—enough EXP to push the Armor to its next evolution. According to the system, artifacts underwent metamorphic leaps in power when promoted. If +10 already made him a monster, what would transcending its limits do?
Perhaps even the Council's full might— yin beastand all—would become irrelevant.
With such power, ambition festered. The Council's seats would be his.
The Trap Springs
"Master," Kevin interrupted, phone in hand. "Jack's convoy diverted to his club. He's meeting the enforcers now."
Vega's lips curled. "How rude. Shouldn't Nacro's ruler attend his own assassination plot?" He rose, coat flaring. "Round up the other councilors—alive. I'll execute them publicly as a lesson."
Kevin bowed. The orders rippled through the syndicate. The purge had begun.
Club Ultimatum
Inside the VIP lounge, Jack and his fellow councilors groveled as Crimson Serpent, Lizard, and Hound strode in.
"W-We only asked for help against the Pendletons!" Jack wheezed, face purple from Crimson's grip.
"Correction." Crimson tossed him aside like trash. "Nacro now answers to Lord Murphy. Not you."
Lizard and Hound moved—a blur of violence. Bodyguards hit the floor, disarmed and screaming.
The councilors exchanged hollow stares. They'd bargained with devils… and lost.
"Perhaps Vega Pendleton was the lesser evil," the one councilor muttered.
A voice sliced through the tension:
"Oh? Now I'm the preferable option?"
The door exploded inward. Vega stood framed in the wreckage, Armor already pulsing.
The man who spoke fainted.