Will I Ultimately Become a Capitalist Tycoon?

[Too small, too small, the vision is too small.]

The Prompt Device sneered at the host's thoughts.

[You should pursue Megumin right now, marry into the Raikou family, then take out the Anti-Entropy radical faction, seize control of Anti-Entropy, and transfer all its assets to your name.]

"Ah... aren't you overestimating me a bit?"

Looking at the simulator's words, Russell felt nothing but a toothache.

He was a branch of the Deity race.

The Deity race on Terra had a bit of a flavor reminiscent of the inhabitants of another Terra world.

Withstanding a steel pipe twenty centimeters in diameter, leaping ten or even dozens of meters in a single bound, and channeling all kinds of powerful Originium Arts—these were their basic moves.

It made you wonder if they weren't essentially a bunch of biological weapons.

But biological weapons were still within the realm of biology. The boss of Anti-Entropy was the Herrscher of Reason, a man who could shape Dongfeng missiles with his bare hands.

Herrschers—those things were closer to gods.

Sure, Walter Yang was half-dead, but a half-dead god was still a god.

If he got caught trying to embezzle Anti-Entropy's assets, he'd probably be stripped clean, kicked all the way from North America to Europa, and then from Europa to Asia.

[Tsinghua or Peking, nothing beats guts! Give it a shot, what if you don't get caught?]

Damn.

Why don't you say, what if you do get caught?

"I think making more Lungmen Dollars and taking better care of catgirls is a better plan."

Russell rejected the system's prompt and reached out to feel the air temperature.

Mm, not bad.

Russell nodded, then glanced at the dining table beside him.

On the table were authentic Russian-style dishes: borscht, dumplings, caviar, and large chunks of stewed meat.

Nothing too extravagant—after all, Lord Russell was actually pretty strapped for cash right now.

Feeling that the temperature had risen to a range where humans could function, Russell opened the chat group and called out to his friends.

"Hey guys, come and taste the specialty cuisine of Ursus!!"

"Is it time to eat?!!"

Huihui, who had deliberately starved herself for a good meal, struck first. She quickly activated the teleport, her eyes as sharp as a husky staring at an empty food bowl!

Going by her previous teleport experiences, pressing the teleport button would open a portal in front of her, and stepping through would... would...

In Huihui's bewildered expression, a large hole suddenly opened beneath her feet without warning.

"Ah!!!"

"Why is the teleport method different this time!!"

She screamed, turning into a falling crimson mage as she plummeted from the portal that had opened on Russell's ceiling!

The chat group's method of sending people was actually dropping them from the sky?!!

Russell stared at the mage heading straight for his head, his eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.

Damn, dodge!!

He instinctively tried to move out of the way, but a flash from the Prompt Device caught his eye.

[Above you is your precious production asset. As a successful mining owner, how can you tolerate the risk of your production asset being damaged from a fall?]

Russell's expression shifted sharply.

The strength in his legs, which had been about to step back, suddenly surged. He leaped up like an ape, reached out an arm to pull the witch into his embrace, and landed steadily.

"Are you hurt?"

The boy gently comforted the production asset—ah, no, the lovely witch—in his arms.

"N-no problem."

Huihui stammered in reply.

The look in that certain someone's eyes was just too intense. Honestly, being stared at by a member of the opposite sex with such burning eyes would give most women goosebumps, right?

It easily brought to mind a lecher.

But Russell's gaze was so clear, without a trace of lust or depravity.

Ah...

What was going on?

The girl was momentarily at a loss.

"If you're fine, go rest over there. There's prepared fruit and stewed meat."

The boy gently set Huihui down, as if handling some precious treasure.

After doing this, he fell into deep vigilance.

The chat group he had joined seemed to have some issues—the teleportation method wasn't exactly reliable.

He had to stay sharp and catch all the group members.

Especially Naruto Uzumaki and Megumin.

The former was his labor force before acquiring the Shadow Clone Army, and the latter was a genuine sugar mama he was counting on to help him reclaim ME Corp and secure funding...

During Russell's vigilant wait, another girl indeed fell from the sky.

It was Megumin.

He leaped, like a bolt of lightning.

The boy once again landed steadily with the girl in his arms.

"Are you okay?"

He asked the girl in his embrace, a saintly, professional smile spreading across his face.

"I'm... I'm fine."

Megumin said this, but her slender fingers were gripping Russell's collar tightly, her face pale.

She really hadn't expected that so-called "crossing over" would mean opening a hole beneath her feet and air-dropping her into another world.

"It's okay, it's okay."

Russell comforted Megumin, preparing to get up and catch the next group member.

But before he could turn around, his expression froze.

"Ow—"

A scream came from behind him—Naruto Uzumaki.

Damn, was the falling speed picking up?

"You okay, Naruto?"

Russell quickly sent Megumin to the side and rushed toward Naruto, his expression pained.

Holy crap, what was with this chat group's crappy teleportation?

Dropping his precious production resources like this—wasn't that too much?!

"I'm... I'm fine. But, Brother Russell... how do you know Shadow Clone Jutsu?"

The unlucky ninja staggered to his feet, pointing at Megumin as he asked.

"Are you a ninja too?"

Russell: "..."

Megumin: "..."

Huihui: "..."

Skadi: "..."

Wait, where did Skadi come from?

Russell stared blankly at the silver-haired woman who had suddenly appeared beside him.

"You didn't fall down?"

That woman was also stunned.

"Didn't everyone come through a Portal?"

Good fellow, had the chat group's teleportation finally fixed itself when it was Skadi's turn?

Russell clutched his head, both sad and happy.

Happy because he didn't have to perform an aerial catch of a killer whale—Skadi's weight might be quite astonishing, and if he didn't catch her properly, he might turn from Mr. Russell into Miss Russell.

Sad because the chat group he'd joined seemed a bit unreliable at times.

"Well, let's all eat first."

Russell sighed, deciding not to think about the chat group anymore.

This was the group's first gathering—not the right occasion to dwell on such troublesome matters.

"After we eat, I'll send you the information you're curious about, and then introduce the company and industry we'll be working on next."

He said this, and the group members all turned their gazes to the feast on the table.

"Yeah, yeah, nothing's bigger than eating."

The foodie Huihui deftly picked up the prepared utensils and served everyone a full bowl of meat and Chiaotzu.

Russell habitually sat on the side closest to the garden.

The view from this spot was excellent—through the window, he could see the pure white snow outside, the silver-white coniferous forest, and the banner of the Reunion Movement.

Wait.

The banner of Reunion Movement?!!

Chapter 5: Thirty Years East, Thirty Years West—Don't Bully This Humble Russell for Being Poor!

Reunion Movement.

An organization composed entirely of Infected.

The world of Terra is built upon the universal energy source—Originium.

And those called Infected are patients afflicted with Oripathy, harmed by the energy substance—Originium.

People infected by Originium. With a theoretical fatality rate of 100%, they carry the risk of contagious spread and latent dangerous abilities upon death, thus despised by society.

The Infected of Reunion Movement are extremely xenophobic, harboring hatred for the normal society that once oppressed them, proclaiming, "The Infected should take pride in their identity, actively seize and use their own power."

In short, a mob of thugs.

But, at its founding, this organization didn't harbor all sorts of strange ideas.

It could even be considered a fairly progressive group.

They were kind to the Infected, kind to serfs, and hoped to gain the approval of petty townsfolk and middle peasants.

But unfortunately—

Russell's current status was that of a noble Mine Owner.

Completely outside the scope of unity.

No, rather than being outside the scope of unity, it was more like being the kind of person whose death would make the Infected shout, "Good riddance, pop the champagne!"

Russell looked at the swarms of Infected outside and sucked in a breath of cold air.

Holy crap!!