My Anime Shopping Tree & My Cold Prodigy Wife!
Episode-180

Chapter : 359

Lloyd’s eyes widened behind his mask. Two hundred and eighty. It was a fortune, a reward far exceeding any he had received before in miscellaneous non task reward. The System, it seemed, valued the elimination of genuine, high-threat criminals far more than it valued slapping street thugs or winning tournaments. This was a new, and incredibly lucrative, avenue for advancement.

[Current System Coins: 830 (Previous) + 280 (Reward) = 1110 SC]

One thousand one hundred and ten.

He had the coins. More than enough. He could rank up his Steel Blood. He could buy a new spirit. He could… he could finally start to truly fight back against the ghosts of his past.

He reined in his horse, stopping in a moonlit clearing, the sound of crickets the only witness to his silent, internal celebration. He was still weary, his body still aching from the energy expenditure. But his mind was sharp, clear, buzzing with the possibilities that now lay before him.

He thought of Ben Ferrum’s warning. They are stronger than you. It was still true. But the gap, he knew, had just narrowed. Significantly.

He didn't waste a moment. The adrenaline of the fight still lingered, mingling with the intoxicating thrill of his newfound wealth. Now was the time. Back in the relative security of his study, surrounded by the comforting, familiar scent of old books and his burgeoning soap empire, he would cash in this victory. He would reforge himself.

The journey back to the estate was no longer just a ride; it was a race. A race against the dawn, against the unseen enemies who were out there, somewhere, growing stronger. But for the first time, Lloyd felt like he wasn't just running from them. He was running towards them. Armed with a new, terrible power, and a purse full of cosmic, consequence-laden coins. The price of justice, it seemed, was power. And he had just paid it in full.

The study at the Elixir Manufactory was a sanctuary of silence, the only light the warm, steady glow from a single oil lamp on Lloyd’s large oak desk. The scent of rosemary, which had become the background fragrance of his new life, was a comforting presence. He had returned to the estate under the cover of darkness, bypassing the main house entirely, needing this quiet, private space to process the night’s events and, more importantly, to invest its bloody profits.

He sat in his chair, the world outside the single pool of lamplight a distant, irrelevant darkness. He had dismissed Ken with a single, sharp nod, needing absolute solitude for what he was about to do. The exhaustion of the fight, the lingering adrenaline, the immense spiritual drain from unleashing five spears in rapid succession—it all hummed beneath his skin, a testament to the power he had wielded. But fatigue was a temporary state. The opportunity before him was not.

He closed his eyes, sinking into the cool, familiar interface of the System. The balance glowed, a beautiful, brilliant number that promised transformation.

[Current System Coins: 1110 SC]

The choice was clear, had been solidifying in his mind for weeks, ever since his humiliating defeat at the hands of Ben Ferrum. Fang Fairy’s Transcendence had been a crucial first step, giving him a powerful offensive and defensive partner. But his own core abilities, the very powers of his blood, were still lagging. His Steel Blood, the true, potent legacy of the Ferrum line, was still at its nascent, F-Rank stage. It was versatile, yes, precise. But against the raw, overwhelming power Ben had displayed, it had felt like a child’s toy. It was time to change that.

He focused his will, navigating the System’s menus, his mind sharp, decisive.

[ 10 SC deducted for opening the shop]

[Void Power: IronBlood/Blood Steel]

[Current Rank: F]

[Upgrade Path Available. Select Target Rank.]

He bypassed the single-step upgrades, the slow, incremental climb. He had the capital now for a significant leap. He did the mental math, the cost of each rank adding up, a ladder of power he was about to ascend in a single, breathtaking bound.

E-Rank: 150 SC.

D-Rank: 200 SC.

C-Rank: 300 SC.

B-Rank: 400 SC.

Total cost to reach B-Rank: 150 + 200 + 300 + 400 = 1050 System Coins. Exactly what he had. It was a perfect, almost preordained, confluence of events. The System wasn’t just offering him an upgrade; it was presenting him with a destiny.

[Target Rank Selected: B]

[Total Upgrade Cost: 1050 SC]

[Confirm Expenditure?]

There was no hesitation. This was the reason he had fought, the reason he had taken the risk. This was the price of justice, reinvested into the currency of survival.

Chapter : 360

“Confirm,” he breathed, the word a quiet command in the silent room.

The moment he confirmed the expenditure, the world behind his eyelids dissolved. The feeling was utterly different from the Spirit Transcendence. That had been an external surge, a fusion with another being, a violent, explosive expansion of his bond. This… this was internal. A deep, seismic, and profoundly personal, reforging.

It felt as if the very blood in his veins had ignited. Not with a hot, consuming flame, but with the white-hot, purifying fire of a master’s forge. A wave of intense, almost unbearable, energy flooded his system, originating not from an external source, but from the very core of his being, from the ancient, coded legacy of his Ferrum DNA.

He gritted his teeth, a low groan escaping his lips as the power surged through him. It was not pain, not exactly. It was… transformation. He could feel his Void power, the familiar thrum of his Steel Blood, changing, condensing, purifying. The raw, almost clumsy, potential of his F-Rank abilities was being systematically dismantled, melted down, and reforged into something harder, sharper, infinitely more potent.

He could feel his control deepening, his connection to the essence of steel becoming more intimate, more intuitive. He could sense the subtle metallic dust in the very air of the room, feel the iron nails in the floorboards beneath him, sense the hard, sharp reality of the steel hilt of the practice sword leaning in the corner. His perception of the world had fundamentally, irrevocably, shifted.

The process, which felt like an eternity, was over in a matter of seconds. The intense, internal fire receded, leaving behind not a searing heat, but a cool, humming, and immensely powerful, certainty. The upgrade was complete.

[Upgrade Successful: IronBlood/Blood Steel]

[New Rank: B]

[New Abilities Unlocked. Displaying Skill Tree…]

A new interface bloomed in his mind, and with it, a torrent of instinctual knowledge. He saw the paths of potential that were now open to him. The ability to shape larger, more complex steel constructs. The power to imbue his creations with greater heat, greater kinetic force. The potential to manipulate not just steel, but other, more exotic, alloys.

But one ability, one familiar, terrifying, and deeply personal technique, flared to life in his mind with the force of a recovered memory. An ability he had spent three long, brutal years perfecting in his first life, after his family’s assassination. A power born of grief, of vengeance, of the desperate need for a weapon that was both a shield and a sword.

Chain Shackles.

Without a conscious thought, acting on pure, resurrected instinct, Lloyd opened his eyes and extended his hand, palm up, into the pool of lamplight on his desk. He focused his will, his newly forged B-Rank power answering his call instantly, effortlessly.

The air above his palm shimmered. From the center of his palm, a single, gleaming, metallic link, forged from pure, solid Ferrum steel, materialized from nothing. It was followed by another, and another, and another, each link forming and connecting with impossible speed, a silent, fluid cascade of creation.

Within seconds, a length of heavy, gleaming, impossibly strong-looking chain lay coiled in his hand. Each link was perfect, seamless, radiating a faint, internal power. It was not just a chain; it was an extension of his will, a flexible, unbreakable tendril of pure steel.

He flexed his fingers, and the chain responded instantly, slithering up his arm like a living serpent, its cool, metallic weight a familiar, chilling comfort. He willed it to be sharp, and the edges of the links honed themselves to a razor’s edge. He willed it to be blunt, and the edges softened, becoming a tool of binding, not of cutting.

A slow, grim, and utterly predatory smile touched Lloyd’s lips. He remembered. He remembered how to use this. How to send it slithering through shadows, silent and unseen. How to wrap it around an opponent’s throat from a hundred paces away, constricting with a silent, irresistible force. How to use it to disarm, to bind, to shatter bone.

This was not the flashy, attention-grabbing power of the Spear of Justice. This was the quiet, insidious, terrifyingly effective power of an assassin. The power he had used to hunt down his family’s killers, one by one, in the shadows of a world that had tried to erase him.

He had reclaimed a piece of his most ruthless, most dangerous self. The drab duckling was gone forever. The soap merchant was a means to an end. The Major General was awake. And now, the Ghost of Ferrum, the master of the silent, deadly chains, had returned.