Empire Building With Infinite Warehouse-Chapter 56: Leader

The Hunter Association elevator in district 5 sent a smooth vibration travelling up through Julien’s body.

He stood rigid in the centre of the cabin.

The mana-suppressing steel cuffs felt like weights against his wrists, injecting into his bruised skin with every minor shift of the carriage.

Beside him, Chris leaned against the wall.

His breathing carried a rough, painful wheeze from his cracked ribs, and the scent of blood and sweat spread to both of them, a harsh contrast to the elevator’s ambient aroma.

Julien tilted his head toward the sound of his friend’s ragged breathing.

"Hey," he whispered, keeping his voice as low as possible.

"Does it look clean?"

Chris let out a tired breath and leaned in closer.

"Way too clean," he whispered back, awe mixing with his exhaustion.

"You would think we were in District 1 or something. The floors are basically mirrors that I feel bad just bleeding on them."

From the front of the elevator, standing by the doors, Blaze spoke without turning his head.

"You guys haven’t been to District 1?"

Julien shrugged, his unblinking, pupil-less gaze locked on a spot on the wall he couldn’t actually see.

"Nope. The highest we ever made it was District 6. And that was only because we ran out of places to sleep and had to beg for scraps near the border patrol stations. Fancy architecture wasn’t a priority."

A heavy silence settled in the cabin.

Blaze offered no reply to the reality of lower-district life.

The elevator slowed, the subtle change in gravity signalling their arrival at the top floor. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

The doors slid open with a ding, letting in a rush of cool air.

"Julien, walk in," Blaze ordered, his voice echoing in the space beyond the doors.

Julien didn’t move.

He frowned, gesturing to his left where he assumed his party members were standing.

"What about them?"

"Both of them will wait in the dining hall."

"Wow," Chris breathed, his tone brightening.

"I was starving. Do you think they have steak?"

Alice crossed her arms, her form brimming with a mix of paranoia and fatigue.

"No. I need protection. What if she locks me up? I am an unregistered soul entity. This is the exact kind of place that puts ghosts in jars for research."

Chris patted her shoulder, his hand meeting it.

"Come on, Alice. If they wanted to lock us in a dark hole, they would have done it downstairs in the holding cells. Besides, I am really hungry, and I think I can smell real butter."

Julien listened to the exchange, a faint, genuine smile touching his face.

The mundane argument grounded him.

He stepped forward, but paused just outside the elevator threshold and turned his sightless eyes back toward Blaze’s imposing figure.

"Treat both of their wounds, please," Julien said.

His tone shifted, dropping the casual merchant routine for a second, replacing it with the firm edge of a three-party leader.

"Whatever it costs, you can add the medical bill to my debt."

Blaze gave a slow nod.

When Julien just stood there waiting for a verbal confirmation, the hunter sighed.

"Done. Keep moving."

Julien stepped out of the elevator.

Massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows lined the penthouse, overlooking the glittering skyline of District 5, but the view was wasted on the merchant.

He raised his hands, wrists still bound, extending his fingers forward to avoid walking face-first into a wall or a priceless vase.

Just an hour ago, he was a shadow monster snapping necks with a flick of his wrist.

Now, he was playing a high-stakes game of blind man’s bluff in a billionaire’s penthouse, shuffling his feet like a lost tourist.

He took three cautious steps.

Then the floor vanished.

An invisible pressure wrapped around his torso. Julien let out an undignified yelp as he was pulled into the air, yanked forward by an unseen grip.

The air rushed past his ears, and before he could brace for an impact, the force let go.

He landed hard on something incredibly soft, a deep leather sofa chair that squeaked in protest under his weight.

Julien gripped the armrests, his heart beating fast. Telekinesis? he thought, his mind racing through the known high-tier skills.

Great.

Does she have gravity magic like Maya, or straight-up telekinesis? Add it to the list of things that can kill me without touching me.

"You are here."

The voice was smooth.

Sitting across from him behind a sprawling, minimalist glass desk was Gina.

She wore a tailored, immaculate white suit that screamed impossible wealth and untouchable status.

Thin, wire-rimmed glasses rested on the bridge of her nose, framing eyes beneath a neat cut of vibrant pink hair.

She held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, the other resting delicately against her matching saucer.

Not that Julien could appreciate the intimidating aesthetic.

All he saw was the same hazy grey void that had filled him since the possession ended.

But the smell of rich, roasted coffee beans mixed with the sharp, crackling scent of mana hit his nose like a blow.

"Ah," Julien cleared his throat, adjusting his posture on the expensive leather.

"Hello. I assume you are the boss."

Gina took a slow sip of her coffee.

The subtle clinking of the porcelain against the saucer was the only sound in the massive office.

"I’m sorry for the damage," Julien added quickly, falling back on his instincts.

Defuse the anger, negotiate the terms, survive the encounter.

"The Red Gate... the summoning... it got a little out of hand. I will pay the fine."

Gina lowered her cup and let out a short scoff.

"Are you sure? The structural damage to District 9 alone was quite extensive. Not to mention the loss of corporate assets, the destruction of a city block, and the minor detail of you transforming into an unregistered, hostile anomaly."

Julien swallowed hard, gripping the armrests tighter.

"You can add it to my debt."

He kept his face carefully neutral, projecting calm confidence, but internally, panic was setting in.

’I am going to die repaying everything I owe. I will be ninety years old, walking with a cane, and still paying off a cracked sidewalk in District 9.’

Gina laughed.

"Julien," she said, tasting his name as if analysing a new product.

She rested her chin on her palm, raising a single finger from her other hand. With a casual, almost lazy motion, she swept her finger upward.

He lifted off the leather cushions, floating three feet in the air.

His legs dangled uselessly over the edge. The heavy metal cuffs clanked as he grabbed for the armrests of the chair that was no longer beneath him.

"Whoa," he muttered, kicking his boots slightly as he tried to keep his balance in mid-air.

"Your skill is quite interesting," Gina noted, watching him float like a helpless puppet.

"A low-rank merchant who summons an entity capable of overwhelming veteran hunters. It defies conventional System scaling and logic."

"Thanks, I guess," Julien mumbled.

He hated floating.

Gina flipped her finger down.

Julien dropped back into the chair with a heavy thud, his teeth hitting together on impact, but something felt off.

She was no longer sitting behind the desk.

He felt the shift in the mana, a freezing chill running straight up his spine.

Then, a soft, cool hand rested gently on top of his head.

The touch sent a jolt of static electricity, tearing through his skull.

"Show me," Gina whispered.

Julien’s mind went blank.