The Art of Legally Robbing Capital

"……Jackpot just rolled in."

A sincere mutter slipped through my lips before I could stop it. The beautiful silver hair of the woman huddled before me, or the dizzying sight of blood seeping from ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her collarbone—none of that registered in my vision. The only thing filling my retinas was the fist-sized, massive Heart Mana Stone necklace gleaming brilliantly on her chest.

50,000 SP.

What that number meant in this shitty apocalypse survival game was nothing short of a cheat key. The top-grade gas mask filter cost 10 SP, a canned food set was 5 SP. The Taser gun I'd fried that dumb minion with upstairs went for 50 SP.

And this was 50,000 SP? Enough to plate this entire ancient bunker in military-grade titanium alloy, install a premium hydroelectric generator, pile up mountains of M870 pump-action shotgun ammo, and still have change left over. A walking bunker upgrade package had strolled right into my front yard on its own two feet.

"Y-You insolent cur! How dare you stare like that?!"

At my blatant gaze, the duke's daughter, Ayla Erzen, snapped sharply. She tried to stagger to her feet, but the deep wounds on her abdomen and legs forced her back down. Even so, her red eyes burned with their signature arrogance and venom.

"Are you deaf?! Hide me at once and fetch a healer! If you help me, the Erzen ducal house will shower you with more gold than a commoner like you could touch in a lifetime. So hurry up…!"

"Ah, shut up."

I tapped the purifier on my gas mask, cutting her off clean.

She must've lost it after the crown prince's annulment declaration up top, crossed the line, got chased by the imperial knights all the way down into this sewer. A flashy exit worthy of the original story's main villainess.

But this was my private property.

"Hey, miss. Whether you're a duke's daughter or the emperor's grandma, I don't give a damn. The spot you're bleeding all over right now? Under Imperial Law Article 14, Clause 2, I just legally bought this place. You're trespassing."

"W-What? Trespassing? This sewer pit is your house? Ha! You're one thoroughly mad commoner."

Ayla snorted in disbelief, but her breathing grew ragged, and she hacked up bloody foam.

I gazed down at her impassively, fiddling with the stock of the M870 pump-action shotgun slung over my right shoulder. The quickest, most efficient calculation ran ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠through my head.

Just rip off that necklace for 50,000 SP. No need to keep her alive, right?

I casually raised the barrel, sighting it on Ayla's forehead. One trigger pull, and that noisy mouth shuts forever. Necklace is mine. Perfectly clean survivalist decision.

But the instant I went to flick off the safety—

"……Hah, fuck. What a goddamn romance fantasy rule."

I clicked my tongue and lowered the barrel.

World's Compulsion Force. This world's cursed system that's been screwing me over since possession day one. It thrashes around to force the original 'romance fantasy' story to play out no matter ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what. If I blow away the protagonist or a major villain's head with brute force, it smashes the plot and shuts down my one lifeline—the shop.

Abyssal Spores drop in a year and end the world. Two weeks without the shop? Suicide.

"Gotta make her hand it over legally. Voluntarily."

I racked the shotgun open, ejecting the lethal slug round. From my shell pouch, I pulled a blunt-nosed non-lethal beanbag round and chambered it with a click. For subduing without killing, just in case.

"Y-You… Did you just aim that metal lump at me? A mere commoner daring to point a weapon at a duke's daughter?!"

Ayla flinched, clutching her dress hem. No mana from the weird metal thing, but instinct picked up the killing intent.

I slung the shotgun behind my back and slowly squatted to her eye level. Then, in the softest, most commercial voice:

"No misunderstanding, miss. I'm just a honest businessman offering a fair deal to someone in need."

"A… deal? With me?"

"Yes. You look like a total mess. Physical wounds aside, your mind's in tatters, isn't it?"

Her red eyes quivered at my words. Recalling original knowledge, her real issue wasn't that stab wound. Extreme stress from the crown prince dumping her and the family on the verge of disowning her. Severe insomnia and lovesickness from sleepless nights. That was crumbling her mental state.

Magic could stitch flesh wounds, but shattered psyche and insomnia? Beyond this world's healing spells.

I pointed at the dark circles under her pale, hollow eyes.

"Haven't slept a wink in days, right? Close your eyes, and boom—His Highness the crown prince flirting with some other bitch. Heart pounding like it'll burst, head screaming till you go mad?"

"H-How do you know…?!"

Ayla's voice shook for the first time. Nailed it.

I inwardly cheered and summoned the system shop.

Medical/Drugs tab. Modern premium sleeping pills. 5 SP. Buy.

A small plastic bottle dropped into my hand. I shook it for the rattle, popped out one pill. White, smooth—perfect modern form, nonexistent in this world.

"Know what this is?"

"W-What's that creepy white pebble? No mana, no holy power…."

"Of course not. This isn't some mana-powered junk. It's an 'Elixir of Oblivion' unearthed from ancient ruins—directly controls brain neurotransmitters."

"Elixir of… Oblivion?"

I rolled my tongue like a pitchman.

"Swallow this, and poof—that hellish stress, lovesickness, heart-shredding pain? Gone like flipping a switch. One second to plunge into perfect, deep unconsciousness. Forget the nightmare reality, sleep like heaven. Crown prince or whatever—powerless before this elixir's slumber."

Ayla's dry swallow echoed off the sewer walls. Her arrogant red eyes flickered with raw hunger. Human instinct to flee pain. For a cornered villainess with nothing left, 'painless sleep' was devilish temptation impossible to refuse.

"Lies…. The empire's top holy priests couldn't fix my insomnia! No way a lone commoner has a miracle elixir…!"

She gritted her teeth in denial, but her gaze locked on the white pill between my fingers.

I shrugged leisurely, pretending to pocket it.

"Fine, don't believe me. Keep bleeding out, grinding your teeth over the prince all night in agony. Tremble wide-eyed till the knights bust in and lop your head off. I'm busy—bye."

As I stood to leave, a desperate hand grabbed my pant leg.

"W-Wait…! Hold on!"

Looking down, the blood-drained-lipped duke's daughter stared up, lips trembling.

"G-Give me that… elixir. I'll take it. Dying mad in pain or poisoned by your crap—same difference… At least one minute of painless sleep."

Hooked. Push someone to mental breaking point, and they'll grasp any straw. Plus, this pinnacle of modern medicine would physically smash this mana-dependent world's central nervous system—no scam.

I grinned inwardly and extended my hand.

"No freebies. Deal, remember?"

"Once I return to the ducal estate, any gold or jewels you want…!"

"No IOUs. Cash on the nail. Pay with what you got right now."

I nodded at her collarbone.

"Like, say, that ridiculously huge rock around your neck."

"W-What…?! This is the Erzen ducal heirloom, the Heart Mana Stone! Worth ten mansions in the capital…!"

"Yeah, yeah. Hug that heirloom tight and die nicely to the knights chasing you outside. Take care."

"Wait! Okay…! Fine, take it!"

In the end, pride and power meant nothing before pain. Ayla's trembling hands unclasped the necklace. Humiliated tears splashed down, but survival—no, rest—instead won out.

I casually caught the hefty mana stone necklace she flung in rage with one hand.

"Excellent choice, customer."

I handed her the pill and clean water from my canteen. Ayla snatched the pill, gulped it with water.

"If this is fake, my soul will haunt you as a vengeful spirit… Ah."

Her venom cut short. A 5 SP modern premium sleeping pill's power was beyond imagination. Starved and bleeding, zero resistance—chemicals punched straight through no-mana barriers into her brain.

"Wha… Eyes… blurring…."

Her red eyes lost focus, and in three seconds flat, she slumped forward limply. Steady breathing. Perfect sleep.

The moment I confirmed she was out, system messages exploded like fireworks across my vision.

"Kuhahaha!"

I burst out laughing like a maniac. 50,000 SP! Turned a 5 SP pill into a 10,000x profit. This is creative economics, fuck yeah!

Now I could titanium-plate the bunker entrance, install Gatling turrets inside, stock a year's combat rations—and still have cash left.

Trembling, I opened the system shop to hit 'Titanium Barrier Instant Construction.' Time to ditch this rotten wooden door and build a perfect fortress.

But right then—

BOOM—!

The bunker's rickety temporary wooden door shuddered like it would shatter, hit by something massive. Dust rained from the ceiling.

"……?"

I wiped the grin off my face and turned to the door. Through the cracks, a chilling blue light tore through the sewer darkness.

Not a lantern. That was the bio-energy knights wrapped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠around their swords: Aura.

"Over here! Blood trail leads inside this shitty door!"

"By the Imperial Knights' name, smash it down! Capture traitor Ayla Erzen alive—immediately!"

Gruff bellows mixed with steel clangs from outside. Massive mana waves pressed the door like they'd rip it apart any second.

The high from my con just faded, and now the original story's muscle shows up.

Any random extra would've collapsed at that overwhelming Aura killing intent. But me? I calmly erased my smile.

No panic—my eyes sank colder than this sewer.

Gonna smash the door and come in?

I closed the shop, opened inventory. Gripped the M870 I'd prepped for Ayla earlier. Beanbag still chambered.

Click-clack! Pump-action racked home. Left hand pulled a metal cylinder from inventory. Black surface, silver safety pin: modern tactical masterpiece. Ignores shields and Aura, blinds and deafens completely. The 9-Bang flashbang.

CRASH! CRACK! The wooden door split in half, revealing Aura-sheathed knight silhouettes.

I yanked the pin with a deadpan face and lobbed it through the gap.

"Romance knights. Taste some modern light and salt."