Level 1 to Infinity: My Bloodline Is the Ultimate Cheat!-Chapter 836: Forty-Eight Hours to Live

The broadcast sent a shockwave rippling through the supernatural elements entrenched across Magnolia Valley, its effects unfolding almost instantly.

Only moments earlier, as Ethan delivered his initial decree, many Energy Users had reacted with open contempt. Lounging across commandeered living rooms, they sneered at the young man on their screens, laughing loudly and trading mocking remarks while terrified homeowners hovered nearby, forced to serve drinks with shaking hands. To them, Ethan’s words sounded like empty bravado, a threat spoken too far away to matter.

The civilians thought differently.

Those ordinary people, who had only recently felt the faint, unsettling stirrings of Energy awakening within their bodies, clung to the broadcast with fragile, desperate hope. Yet even that hope felt thin. The invaders occupying their homes seemed unstoppable, closer to natural disasters than people, and Ethan’s promises felt distant, almost unreal.

Then the feed changed.

The mountain of severed heads filled the screen.

The illusion of invincibility shattered.

Civilians gasped in horror, some screaming as they recoiled from their screens, but beneath the terror something fierce ignited. That man had said Harbor City was cleansed. He had given an order, Execution Order Alpha. If that carnage was real, then salvation was not a fantasy. It was moving. It was coming. Across the state, people pressed trembling hands together and prayed silently for the rescuers to arrive before it was too late.

For the Energy Users, the reaction was far colder.

Shock hardened into recognition. Some stared at the screen, eyes narrowing as they picked out familiar faces among the dead: Brothers, allies, friends they had assumed untouchable. Mocking smiles vanished, replaced by tight, furious expressions. Others, less seasoned, felt a chill crawl down their spines as an unfamiliar thought surfaced, quiet but terrifying. Retreat. Run. This territory was no longer safe.

And then there were the truly vile.

For them, the carnage did not inspire fear. It inspired rage. Ethan’s tone, his certainty, his casual display of slaughter sparked a malicious resolve. If this was the end, then they would drag their hostages with them. Cold eyes slid toward cowering families, calculating, measuring how much blood they could spill before the axe fell.

Just as that murderous intent solidified, the screen flickered.

Ethan’s face returned.

"Of course," he said, his voice shifting from naked menace to something smoother, almost reasonable. "The awakening of Energy is a blessing for our community. I have no intention of stifling progress. So I’m offering a path forward. A way for you to enjoy this bounty without facing the consequences."

He paused deliberately, letting the offer sink in.

"All of you will report to the nearest Ninth Division outpost. Register the area you’ve occupied. Once recorded, you will be granted safe, legal access to the local Energy currents."

A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. "You’re not paupers. But the people whose homes you’re in need to live. Infrastructure costs money. So there’s a fee. Consider it rent for the best Energy-rich real estate in the state. Pay a premium, and we can even arrange enhanced, multi-channel Energy supply sourced directly from the Ethereal server banks during peak hours. For true practitioners, wealth is a trivial concern, is it not?"

He leaned closer to the unseen camera, his voice lowering, intimate and lethal.

"Do this, and you become a licensed Energy consumer within Magnolia Valley. Legal. Protected."

The smile vanished.

"You have forty-eight hours to register."

His eyes felt impossibly close, as if they could see through the screens and into every hiding place.

"Fail to report," he said quietly, "and the penalty is extermination." 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

The broadcast ended without warning. Screens across the state snapped back to their usual programming, as if nothing had happened.

In living rooms throughout Magnolia Valley, a heavy silence followed. It was broken only by ragged civilian breathing and the low, simmering fury of those who held them hostage, now forced to reconsider everything.

Within the Ninth Division and the Noble Eight Lineages, officials finally released the breaths they had been holding. Ethan’s initial execution order had horrified them. It was the textbook way to provoke a massacre, cornering desperate, dangerous people and daring them to fight to the death. A predator with no escape claws hardest.

But the follow-up changed everything.

It was not mercy. It was control.

A pressure valve. A deliberate gap left in the hunting circle, the escape route that keeps prey from turning suicidal. Give them a way out, even one that was expensive and humiliating, and they would take it. It was not idealism, not compromise, but cold, pragmatic damage control, and it would save countless civilian lives.

The smarter Energy Users reached the same conclusion almost immediately. Money for safety. Legal status. Guaranteed, high-yield Energy access. Compared to extermination by a man who had silently erased an entire city, it was a bargain. The mystery of how Ethan had accomplished that only made the threat more convincing.

Across Magnolia Valley, doors began to open. Figures emerged from stolen homes and occupied buildings, pride bruised but survival instincts intact, moving toward Ninth Division offices under the weight of a ticking forty-eight-hour clock.

As the final screens went dark, Ethan’s own communications flared to life.

He opened a secure channel, linking directly to two key figures within the Ninth Division’s new power structure: Celeste and Mr. Kane. With no single Director in place, the Division was governed by council, and both held seats strengthened by their direct ties to Ethan.

"Recall all field operatives to their city outposts immediately," Ethan said without preamble. "Set up registration desks. Record every name, every claimed territory, and the number of Ethereal players under their control. Collect the fee upfront, three days’ worth. My recommendation is double the standard rate for a dual-stream Energy feed per player. Calculate the exact numbers, then funnel the funds into a relief program for displaced civilians."

He continued seamlessly. "After registration, they report daily. Same concept as bail conditions. They check in, they stay compliant."

The channel closed, and he opened another.

Through Lyla, he was patched through to Donovan Silverwood, the man she called Ninth Granduncle.

"Coordinate with the other families," Ethan said. "Your priority is intelligence. Investigate every registrant. Anyone guilty of assault, torture, rape, or targeting women and children. Anything unforgivable. Gather evidence quietly and pass it to the Ninth Division."

There was a brief silence, then a low chuckle rolled across the line. Donovan understood immediately. The public offer was the velvet glove. This was the iron fist waiting beneath it. Pay your fee, behave, and you lived. But if your sins were too heavy, a different accounting awaited. This was not amnesty. It was a trap designed to expose the worst among them.

"Consider it done, lad," Donovan said, approval roughening his voice. "The Families will handle it. No leaks. Damn clever. You’ve grown. Power hasn’t dulled your mind."

He coughed suddenly, a harsh, wet sound that carried an unpleasant edge. "Goddamn mess. Decades of balance in the supernatural world, shattered by a bloody game. What in the Seven Hells is that thing really about, eh?"

The coughing worsened, raw and violent.

Ethan went still.

"Ninth Granduncle," he cut in sharply, concern breaking through his controlled tone. "Are you injured?"