Chapter 99: I AM RETRIBUTION

Calm and composed, the man in his seventies moved with the energy of someone decades younger. Each step carried authority, as though the air itself parted for him. His presence was heavy, undeniable, and as he reached an empty seat, he sat down without hesitation—like a king upon his throne, as though the chair had always been reserved for him."I believe you were asked a question. Who are you?" The Vine Master pressed, his tone sharp as invisible pressure began to spill from his body, rippling across the chamber.

The old man turned his head, his gaze as cold as ice. "I wouldn’t do that if I were you," he warned flatly. "Unless, of course, you have a death wish."

The atmosphere thickened. The Vine Master’s pressure faltered for a moment, but it was the president who quickly cut in, seizing control of the exchange before it escalated further.

"Then at least tell us who you are, and the reason you’re here," the president asked calmly, masking the tension in his voice.

The man’s eyes swept over the gathering like a blade cutting through grass. "I am Retribution," he declared without hesitation. His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable weight. "From this moment forward, I will dictate the happenings of Blue Star. You have all failed—miserably—in guiding the world in the right direction. Consider this your final warning."

"How dare you!" one of the clan masters roared, fury consuming his reason. He lunged forward, his killing intent exploding like a storm, his body moving like a predator striking its prey.

But before he could even close the distance—

"Move one more step and your head falls."

Edge’s voice cut through the air like the edge of his blade. His sword was already resting an inch from the clan master’s neck.

Everyone in the chamber, save for Dream, widened their eyes in shock. They hadn’t even seen him move. Only a few—Geralt among them—could follow the blur, and even then, they were left speechless by the sheer speed. Edge had been standing outside the conference hall, yet in the blink of an eye, he now stood between Retribution and the raging clan master.

The clan master’s bravado collapsed instantly. Sweat ran down his forehead as his throat tightened. One more wrong move, and his head would be rolling across the floor.

"I request you sit," Retribution said. His voice was calm, but the tone was no request—it was a command. The clan master swallowed his pride and obeyed, choosing life over dignity.

Retribution’s gaze returned to the table. "Good. Now, back to our discussion. I have several requests—no, commands—for you." He folded his hands neatly. "Request number one: dungeons. You should already know this if you’ve done your research, but the truth is simple—the longer dungeons remain, the stronger the boss monsters become. Therefore, all dungeons must be closed. That is your first task."

"That’s impossible!" the Poison Clan Master shouted immediately, his voice laced with outrage. "Dungeons are the backbone of our economy! They provide materials, wealth, and resources for the public and companies alike. Shut them down, and you paralyze the entire world!"

Retribution’s eyes narrowed, the calmness in them sharper than any blade. "You seem to have misunderstood. That was not a request. It was an order. Even if you resist, my vassals will see it done. Though," his gaze lingered on the Poison Clan Master, "if you insist on defiance, your life may be a short one."

A cold silence blanketed the room.

"Secondly," Retribution continued, his tone unshaken, "the girl confined within the city. I want her under my custody."

Geralt finally spoke up, his sharp eyes locked on the old man. "And why, exactly, should we hand her over to you?"

Retribution didn’t blink. "Because I said so."

Geralt scoffed, his patience snapping. "Do we really have to sit here listening to this arrogant old bastard spout nonsense? Throw him out already."

The room stilled as Retribution turned to him, his gaze like a predator regarding prey. "Geralt. Your sins against humanity grow with each passing day. Perhaps a punishment will remind you of your place."

His hand rose, fingers extended like a pistol.

Geralt did not flinch. His stare was cold, curious rather than fearful, as though daring Retribution to act.

Retribution smiled faintly. "Not afraid? I expect nothing less... from a fool."

Then—

Pew!

A droplet of blood, compressed into a microscopic bullet, shot forth with impossible speed.

"Urgh!"

Geralt staggered, his shoulder exploding in pain. The flesh was crushed and mangled before he even realized he had been hit. His eyes widened—not just from the injury, but from shock. With all his heightened senses, he hadn’t even seen the attack.

And worse, a searing agony spread from the wound. His body was growing numb, paralyzed from the shoulder outward.

"What did you do to me?" Geralt growled, his voice still cold despite the spreading paralysis.

Retribution leaned back casually, his tone cruel yet measured. "I saved your life."

"Saved... my life?" Geralt narrowed his eyes.

"Exactly so. Without that paralysis, your arrogance would have driven you to retaliate. And had you done that, you would already be dead. Consider this mercy."

A low chuckle echoed through the chamber. "Someone more arrogant than Geralt," Jay, the Frost Clan Master, remarked with amusement. "Now that’s new."

Geralt glared daggers at him, but his body refused to obey. Only his head could move; the rest of him was locked in useless paralysis.

Retribution brushed off the exchange and continued, his voice steady and commanding. "Request number three: I will be establishing a guild of my own. You will grant me land within the sanctuary for my headquarters, and space within every city for daughter bases." His eyes swept across them like a hawk surveying prey. "Request number four: if any of you dare harm my guild members, I will not only erase you, but also everything tied to you—your family, your clan, your guild. Nothing will remain."

His tone hardened further. "And lastly—pass this message to the Abyss. They dared to lay hands on Aaron Highborn, who stands under my protection. For that, I will visit them personally and take what is mine. Tell them to welcome me properly... or risk a war they cannot win."

The air grew heavy. Retribution leaned back, smiling faintly as his eyes swept over every face in the chamber. Each gaze he met faltered, though some tried to hold firm.

"You’ve been bold from the very beginning," Dream finally spoke, her calm voice cutting through the tension. Power seeped from her slowly, silently, as her eyes locked with Retribution’s. "Do you really think none of us can hurt you?"

Retribution laughed softly, his fingers tapping on the table in a steady rhythm. "Continue playing your little third party, as you always have. It is because of your inaction that the Highborns are dead. Because of your negligence that their children suffered. Because of your cowardice that these so-called demigods run wild. And because of your refusal to lead, the commoners live in misery." His gaze sharpened, his words a blade cutting through the room. "I am here to correct that. To ensure order. And those who refuse will meet the afterlife sooner than expected."

His words hung in the air like a death sentence.

He had appeared. He had made his statement. And now, all those present knew the truth—Retribution wasn’t just another power entering the game. He was here to take control, and he would not hesitate to crush anyone who stood in his way.