System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution)-Chapter 331: The Threshold of Death

Outside the vault, the air was thick with the smell of ozone and industrial coolant. The Black Skull operatives had set up a heavy-duty tripod holding a condensed nitro-thermal drill. The machine wailed, its diamond-tipped bit glowing white-hot as it bit into the 75cm-thick reinforced tungsten-carbide door.

"Hey, Ethan! Come out now and we won’t hurt you!" one of the mercenaries shouted, his voice echoing through the ventilation slats. "Or maybe just a little! But if you make us wait until we crack this thing open, you’re going to wish you were never born, you son of a bitch!"

Inside the vault, the girls and Jason watched the external feed on a small, flickering monitor.

"Why do they think Ethan is in here with us?" Cassandra whispered, her voice trembling as she handed Jason a bottle of water.

Lena was busy pouring antiseptic over Jason’s shoulder wound, her hands steady despite the chaos. "Don’t move, Jason. I need to stop this bleeding," Lena said.

Jason coughed, a spray of red hitting the floor. "I don’t know... last I heard, he was intercepted... I’m not sure where he is," Jason said.

"Don’t talk anymore. Everything will be fine. Ethan is coming to rescue us. He always does," Lena said, her voice firm with a conviction she desperately hoped was true.

20 MINUTES LATER

The drill operator wiped sweat from his goggles. "Shit, this is a nightmare. They must have bought the ultra-reinforced model. We’ve hit 50cm, but the resistance is increasing," the technician said.

The leader with the jagged scar on his throat stepped forward, gripping his rifle. "How much longer? The others are going to be here soon, and I’m not sharing this ten-billion-dollar payday with anyone else!" the leader said.

"Maybe ten minutes. These vaults are usually 75cm. We have about 25cm left. I’m going to bypass the hydraulic limiters and inject the nitro-coolant directly into the friction chamber," the technician said.

"Do whatever you have to do! I want that door destroyed now!" the leader said.

"Fine, but this drill is going to be scrap metal after this," the technician warned.

"I’ll buy you a whole damn factory once we get the bounty! Just get it done, Four-Eyes!" the leader laughed, his eyes gleaming with greed.

Inside, the situation had turned grim. Jason had managed to sit up, his back against a rack of servers. He looked at the girls, his face pale.

"The door is starting to glow. They’re almost through. Listen to me... if they break that seal and Ethan isn’t here... you have to activate the self-destruct. We don’t fall into their hands. Ever," Jason said.

The girls looked at each other and nodded solemnly. "We’d rather die than let them touch us," Cassandra said.

Lena reached out and opened a small security panel on the wall, revealing a glowing red button. Her finger hovered over it. The three of them shared a final, silent look—a goodbye.

Outside, the drill let out a final, high-pitched scream as the tip finally breached the inner layer. Sparks flew into the vault.

"Chief! We’re in! Get ready!" the technician shouted.

The leader stepped toward the smoking hole, a sadistic grin stretching his scar. "Today we celebrate! I told you, Ethan! I told you if you made me wait, I’d make you wish you’d never been born—!"

"And who exactly are you going to make wish they were never born?" a voice asked.

The hallway went ice-cold. The mercenaries spun around, their blood freezing in their veins. Ethan was standing at the end of the corridor. He was covered in blood—none of it his own—and surrounded by a violent, crackling aura of purple lightning. His eyes weren’t human; they were the eyes of a storm that had come to judge them.

The leader fell over his own feet, scrambling backward on the floor. "Open fire! Kill him! Kill him now!" the leader shrieked.

A dozen rifles erupted at once, filling the hallway with lead. But Ethan didn’t move. He activated Harder than Steel, his skin turned a bright silvery sheen. The bullets hit his chest and face, flattening into useless lead pancakes and clattering harmlessly to the floor.

Ethan vanished.

He didn’t run; he translocated in a flash of lightning. He appeared in the center of the group, his fist punching through the chest of the first mercenary. The man’s ribcage shattered, his heart pulverized instantly. Ethan didn’t stop. He became a whirlwind of gore, his strikes so powerful they didn’t just kill—they dismembered. Limbs flew, heads were crushed like ripe fruit, and the hallway was painted in a fresh, thick coat of crimson.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. Now, I’m going to make you stay... forever," Ethan said.

Ethan stood in the center of the carnage, his chest heaving as the last of the lightning arcs dissipated into the blood-slicked floor. He stepped over the mangled remains of the drill operator and placed his hand on the scorched metal of the vault.

"Crul, open the door. Now," Ethan said.

[Acknowledged, Master. Opening the primary signals. I have also manually overridden and deactivated the self-destruct sequence. The occupants initiated the countdown exactly forty-eight seconds ago, but I have halted the detonation of the structural charges,] Crul said.

Ethan felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He closed his eyes for a second, his heart hammering against his ribs. If he had been a minute later—if Crul hadn’t been fast enough—he would have lost everything.

During Ethan’s period of meditation and retreat, Crul had become the invisible ghost in the machine of Royal. Under Ethan’s broad directives, Crul had been the one issuing orders, managing logistics, and even coordinating the "Falcon" squads. The members of Royal had grown accustomed to the digital voice that held absolute authority over their lives.

One of Crul’s primary safety designs was the "Collapse Protocol." The vault, situated on the 20th floor, was built like a black box for a flight recorder. If the self-destruct were triggered, specific demolition charges planted throughout the building would detonate in a precise sequence. The entire building would fold inwards and the vault would fall into the void.. According to Crul’s complex physics simulations, the vault’s shock absorption would protect the occupants, but the rest of the tower would be leveled.

Ethan looked at the walls, knowing that houndreds of tons of explosives had been seconds away from turning this place into a tomb. While the girls might have survived the fall inside the box, Ethan wasn’t sure even his Harder than Steel ability could withstand a skyscraper collapsing directly onto his head while simultaneously enduring the heat of ten thousand thermite charges.

The massive door finally groaned, the heavy locking pins sliding back with a deep, metallic thud. The door swung open, and the freezing air from the vault’s life-support system rushed out.

Ethan stood in the doorway, framed by the flickering lights and the shadows of the dead men behind him.

"Ethan!" the girls cried out in unison.

Lena and Cassandra rushed toward him, their faces streaked with tears and soot. They threw themselves into his arms, clutching his torn suit as if they were afraid he would vanish if they let go. Ethan held them tightly, burying his face in their hair, the scent of gunpowder and perfume grounding him.

"I’m here. You’re safe. I’m sorry I took so long," Ethan said.

He looked over their shoulders at Jason, who was propped up against the server racks. Jason’s face was pale, his eyes barely staying open, but he managed a weak, respectful nod.

"Told them... you’d show up, Boss. Just... cutting it a bit close for my heart rate," Jason said.

Ethan stepped forward, still holding the girls, and looked at Jason’s wounds. His expression darkened.

He reached into the empty air, and in a flicker of distorted light that made the girls gasp, he pulled out a small vial filled with a red shimmering, viscous liquid. To Lena and Cassandra, it looked like liquid emeralds.

"Drink this, Jason. All of it," Ethan said.

Jason didn’t hesitate. He didn’t ask what it was or how Ethan had pulled it out of a void; he simply took the vial with a trembling hand and downed the contents. Everyone in the room watched in stunned silence.

The effect was instantaneous and terrifyingly beautiful.

The deep, jagged wounds on Jason’s shoulder and thigh began to hiss, steam rising from his skin. The torn flesh didn’t just stitch together—it knitted with a supernatural speed, the blood pulling back into his veins as the skin smoothed over, leaving not even a scar behind. Within seconds, the grey, deathly pallor of his face was replaced by a healthy, vibrant glow.

Jason stood up, testing his arm. He looked at his hands, feeling a surge of vitality that was stronger than anything he had felt in his life.

"What... what is this stuff? I feel like I could punch a hole through a tank," Jason said, looking at the empty vial with wide eyes.

"It’s something very special, Jason. A Level 4 potion. Don’t go looking for it in a pharmacy; it’s the only one of its kind in this world" Ethan said.

Jason’s expression changed from shock to deep, solemn realization. He knew enough about the underworld to understand that what he had just consumed was worth more than the entire Royal Tower. It was a miracle in a bottle—a resource that kings would kill for—and Ethan had used it on him without a second thought.

"Boss... this is too much. I don’t know how to repay this. I’ll work twice as hard, I’ll—" Jason began.

Ethan stepped forward and placed a heavy hand on Jason’s shoulder, cutting him off.

"Stop. You held this door against an army while you were bleeding out. You protected the people I care about most. This potion isn’t a payment, Jason; it’s the least I could do for a brother who almost died on my doorstep. You’ve done enough. Take a breath," Ethan said.

Jason went silent, his throat tightening. He simply nodded, the bond of loyalty between them sealing tighter than any contract ever could.