Miss Hebe is Killing Her Way Out of the Lostbelt!

Hebe unceremoniously claimed both rooms.

She set up her computer in the bedroom facing the sea, then temporarily piled clutter in the adjacent room.

The computer booted up, and the dark green desktop reappeared.

The Secret History Simulator had finished updating.

"Secret History Simulator, welcome. [The Knower]. Current version is 1.1."

"The simulator's current version has updated with new content and added some features."

"New Content: Lostbelt—[Tale of the Far Eastern Fox Spirit: Sword of Divine Progression] Preview.

In the gaps of dreams, the general and the retired emperor of the Eastern nation awaken once more. They slew the last Dragon in the world, but not for this country alone. Bathed in the full moonlight, swordmasters gather and contend for the title of peerless for a millennium, yet their goals are far from just this... In different eras, many have seen the legendary Fox Spirit, said to grant any wish."

On the dark green desktop, a new card quietly awaited, depicting "Full Moon and Fox Tail."

Clicking the card revealed more text.

"This Lostbelt is divided into three parts: upper, middle, and lower. Progress in each part is independent. Only after complete conquest will the next section be unlocked."

"This Lostbelt is under special observation. Multiple deaths will lower the final score!"

Hebe's long eyebrows twitched.

While the Secret History Simulator didn't prohibit her from repeatedly gathering intel, this warning was essentially telling her that trial-and-error wouldn't work.

Of course, this wasn't a problem. For Hebe now, simply clearing it wasn't enough; she wanted a perfect clear.

The Secret History Simulator had no set standard for perfection, so whether it was perfect or not depended solely on whether Hebe felt "satisfied."

Frankly speaking, the first half of the Egypt Lostbelt involved a lot of repeated trial and error, and that process was hardly pleasant.

Of course, Hebe had ultimately returned that torment to the Red King, so it was mostly satisfying.

"Hope it's satisfying."

Hebe clicked the Lostbelt card with anticipation, only to be dejectedly dismayed to find it was still on cooldown.

Fortunately, this update from the Secret History Simulator wasn't just a preview; it also included a new function that could alleviate her urgent need.

"For a very long time, the authority of the Silent Bookstore was exercised by the Island Council, who elected administrators to represent the Council's collective will. Now that the Master of the Silent Bookstore has returned, the Council will no longer hold power, nor will the administrators.

But as long as you wish it, the Council can still have value. They will become an extension of your will, handling minor matters you don't have time for."

Rebuilding the Island Council wasn't difficult. As the Lord of Blanckug, Hebe had the power to arbitrarily select and dismiss council members.

Only the position of administrator still required the consent of the "Silent Bookstore" itself.

Hebe uncapped her fountain pen, spread out a sheet of paper, and wrote down her requirements: young and capable, hardworking, responsible, well-educated, possessing high moral standards, with certain organizational skills and strong initiative...

As she was about to finish, Hebe remembered the various musical instruments stored in the Silent Bookstore and quickly added "received professional musical training and has some attainment in music theory" at the end of the letter.

After careful consideration, there were no omissions.

Following the instructions on the computer screen, Hebe sealed the letter and put it into the fireplace.

"This process is a bit like public recruitment..." Hebe thought. "I wonder what kind of employees these criteria will select."

She sat back down at her desk and saw a new card had appeared on the dark green desktop.

Hebe silently praised the Secret History Simulator's efficiency, wondering about the talents of the new employees.

However, on the dark green desktop, a semi-transparent square box floated, with the hands of a countdown timer slowly rotating.

—[Someone Will Arrive].

53 Shoko

Some theories suggest that the flapping of a butterfly's wings on the other side of the ocean can create a storm in a rainforest on another continent.

Throughout its long history, the Silent Bookstore, like a restless butterfly, has always strived to influence the entire apprentice community, with each resolution capable of shaking the order of the hidden world.

The administrators of past generations all had harmless hobbies, and in most cases, these hobbies remained at a personal level. However, there were exceptions.

Among the twelve administrators, the eighth was from Zhendan, and her surname was Xue.

Miss Xue's clan leader was known as the "Imperial Merchant" in Zhendan, serving the emperors of Zhendan for generations. When her family was overthrown, Miss Xue crossed the sea with immense wealth and became the treasurer of the Island Council.

Even after Miss Xue became an administrator elected by the Council, she did not stop managing her wealth. For hundreds of years, this continuously growing fortune had become a terrifying torrent in the market. No individual or organization could trace its origins, and anything that stood in its way would vanish.

After the two World Wars, it grew even more, its boundaries and limits becoming immeasurable.

It became countless curves in the stock market, digits flowing through innumerable personal accounts. Even the lifelines of cross-border military-industrial and medical complexes, with their vast capital flows, were but a fraction of it.

Real-world methods could not control it, but non-real-world methods could, although the Silent Bookstore had never done so.

It was like a dormant Dragon, navigating the capital markets by instinct, its slightest stir capable of shaking the entire world.

Those with courage could profit from it.

Time rewound to a month ago.

Tokyo, Eastern Nation.

Cold sweat trickled down the man's temples, but he had no time to wipe it away.

His impeccably tailored suit was casually draped over the back of the chair. He tugged at his tie, feeling as though he were suffocating.

The man stared intently at the electronic screen, clicking refresh every few minutes.

An ominous green line plunged straight down, with no possibility of recovery.

"No way, this has to be a scam, right? I was making so much money before..."

His phone rang. He answered with a trembling hand.

A crisp female voice sounded from the other end. "Mr. Toyokawa, the investment funds on your end have been cut off. It's not too late to withdraw your capital and cut your losses."

"How can I withdraw?" the young head of the Toyokawa Zaibatsu roared hysterically. "I've spread the investment money across hundreds of accounts! It's impossible to pull out all the money now!"

"I warned you, Mr. Toyokawa," the voice on the phone was cold. "Watch your tone. I'm not your employee, just your partner—and as of this moment, that partnership is terminated."

"Hello? Hello! Nagasaki!"

The call was hung up, leaving only the dial tone.

Toyokawa Kiyotaka slumped into his chair, utterly dejected.

His wife had passed away six months prior. After that, Toyokawa Kiyotaka's position as a live-in son-in-law became extremely awkward. To solidify his standing, he desperately wanted to achieve something significant to prove that he was still capable of managing the vast Toyokawa Zaibatsu.

However, reality was like a cold, high wall. Toyokawa Kiyotaka couldn't command everyone.

He had been collectively sidelined by the entire zaibatsu. More accurately, his power had been reclaimed by his formidable father-in-law.

Just as Toyokawa Kiyotaka was about to go mad, he used his connections to contact a Ms. Nagasaki. The woman seemed to be in the finance industry as well. After their second meeting, she pointed him in a major direction.

"Isn't the market for reinterpreting historical figures quite hot these days?" Ms. Nagasaki had said. "There's a continuous influx of capital being injected into it. I want to get in on it too, which is why I came to you for a partnership."

After careful research, Toyokawa Kiyotaka believed she had a point and decisively followed her lead.

In just over a month, he had made a fortune, shocking everyone in the Toyokawa family.

And just a short while ago, Ms. Nagasaki had called to say she was cashing out and leaving.

"I can feel that the massive flow of funds seems to be withdrawing..." Ms. Nagasaki had said somewhat cryptically. "This might just be a delusion, but I don't want to gamble. I've already earned enough money for my daughter and myself for the rest of our lives. It's best to quit while you're ahead."

"Whatever you say." At the time, Toyokawa Kiyotaka was already immersed in that sense of omnipotence. Like a gambler on a winning streak, he had no desire to withdraw.

He had even used his connections to take over the vacuum left by Ms. Nagasaki's departure.

—If anyone could see the whole picture, they would realize that the timing of this massive withdrawal of funds coincided exactly with the day Hebe began simulating the Egypt Lostbelt.

The subsequent events unfolded at breakneck speed.

Funds from the Silent Bookstore rapidly exited, sweeping away all of Toyokawa Kiyotaka's assets with them. The enormous deficit was so vast that even filling it with his entire being would be but a drop in the ocean.

Toyokawa Kiyotaka recalled his recent glory and let out a nervous laugh.

It was over. For him, everything was over.

He stumbled to the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze falling upon the bustling city streets. People flowed like tides, and the plaza was filled with banners so vibrant they hurt his eyes.

Jump, just jump. Jump down like this, end it all, and be done with it!

Toyokawa Kiyotaka swayed. The cold wind numbed his mind. If he died, who would care? Who would grieve?

His parents? No, they wouldn't care.

His father-in-law, who worshipped the Otogiyama Ogre King? He would only coldly call him a failure. In his eyes, only those who died standing, like that ogre king, could be called true men.

His wife, Mizuho, might have, but she was already dead.

"Dad!"

Hurried footsteps sounded from outside the door, which was then pushed open with force.

Toyokawa Kiyotaka turned his head numbly and saw a slender figure standing in the doorway.

The girl looked anxious, with traces of rainwater on her shoulders.

"Shoko..." he managed a dry smile, but before he could finish, the nightmarish old man appeared in the doorway as well.

The old man's expression was cold and contemptuous.

"What are you doing, trying to kill yourself? Drag him down!"

The security guards behind him rushed forward, pulling Toyokawa Kiyotaka away from the window and pinning him to the ground.

Toyokawa Kiyotaka began to weep weakly. He hadn't expected to lack the courage to die, nor had he expected his daughter to witness this scene.

If being dragged down by the old man was already the height of humiliation, then being seen by his daughter Shoko was the ultimate disgrace for Toyokawa Kiyotaka.

Shoko Toyokawa looked at her father, who was sobbing on the ground, her heart feeling as if it were filled with jagged stones.

"You have no reason to remain in the Toyokawa family any longer," the old man coldly pronounced his judgment. "I will repay this debt. Consider it Mizuho's final task to clean up the mess...!"

The old man looked at Shoko Toyokawa. "Shoko, this kind of man cannot bear responsibility for you or your life. Forget him and become my daughter... I will raise you just as I raised Mizuho."

Though this was a painfully clear reality for the child, it was better than the torment of unresolved entanglements that would follow.

54 Let me see!

"No."

Shoko Toyokawa heard her lips and teeth click together as a cold refusal escaped from the depths of her body.

She even thought it was her soul answering, but she soon realized it was her own voice.

Shoko Toyokawa refused her maternal grandfather's suggestion. She walked over, grabbed the arm of the man slumped on the ground, and helped him up.

"Father, let's go."

The old man's lips trembled, and the left hand he kept behind his back clenched his right wrist.

He merely sighed in a low voice, "Go? A young lady like you, where do you think you can still go?"

But the old man didn't say anything more in the end. He looked at Shoko Toyokawa's slender body, watching her with a heavy gaze, the kind that only elderly relatives possess.

There wasn't much severity in it; it was mostly tinged with sorrow.

He didn't stop Shoko Toyokawa, nor did he send anyone to help her. He just watched as she helped that useless man and slowly walked out through the other side door of the tall building.

"So alike, so very alike." The old man sighed as he sat on the chair, but this weak posture was fleeting. When he raised his head, his expression had returned to its sharp and resilient state.

"How much does that useless thing owe? Let's settle it all at once."

The old man's command received no response. He looked over and saw his trusted subordinate standing by Kiyotaka Toyokawa's computer, trembling.

An ominous premonition surged in his heart. The old man walked over and pushed the subordinate aside. Upon seeing the constantly changing data, the color drained from his face little by little.

The old man could never have imagined that Kiyotaka Toyokawa could have caused such a massive mess. If he had simply owed a large debt to a single person or organization, it would have been simpler. But Kiyotaka Toyokawa, in order to prove his own capabilities, had split his funds into hundreds of accounts to play with risk hedging...

"What is the total debt of the Toyokawa family now?" the old man asked after a long silence.

The subordinate's gaze flickered as he reported an astronomical figure far beyond imagination.

Born into a privileged family with outstanding talent, a life of leisure had once been like a carpet of amber laid out at Shoko Toyokawa's feet.

However, those old days were now gone, and everything for Shoko Toyokawa ended here.