Chapter 30

“The blood on the note has changed again?”

Morris exclaimed, surprised by the image appearing in the mirror.

Seeing this, Rhine’s gloomy expression finally vanished.

In its place was an unmistakable smirk.

Indeed, the Greed Magic Box’s self-awareness was on a whole other level compared to that silly Deadly Magic Doll.

Lynn, oh Lynn, your arrogance has ultimately led you to this.

Once the Greed Magic Box deems the transaction successful, its priority supersedes the rules of the Deadly Magic Doll, unaffected by any prohibitions against extraordinary phenomena.

So, at this moment, Lynn found himself at a dead end.

Either he spills enough blood to satisfy the box, or he begs for Her Highness the Princess to help him out.

If he chooses the former, well, too bad.

The Greed Magic Box is called that for a reason—its greed knows no bounds.

Only by completely draining him of his lifeblood can it possibly end.

As for the latter, that was the situation Rhine preferred to witness.

Her Highness seemed to value this clever little brat quite a bit; though the details of their relationship were unclear, it was certainly a bad sign for the Augusta family.

So, should Lynn choose the latter option, his credibility with the Princess would plummet, potentially leading to his complete abandonment.

This time, it’s my win.

Rhine had finally regained his upper hand in front of Lynn, seemingly reconstructing his former arrogance.

“Morris, you’re the fastest. Get ready to notify the Princess and let her clean this mess up.”

He issued the order casually.

Meanwhile, Milani raised an eyebrow, looking at the suddenly transformed Rhine.

This guy seems to think he’s on top of the world again?

“Wait, what did he… do?!”

Morris, who had been staring into the mirror, suddenly gasped in exaggerated astonishment.

Interesting.

Looking at the new blood letters on the note, Lynn stroked his chin thoughtfully.

According to his earlier deductions, a transaction with this box had to be finalized within a minute.

If not, it would forcibly collect payment without offering anything in return.

Not only that, but the box would increase its demands each time, while he was stuck with only one gold coin from the start.

Thinking back, the initial offer of one drop of blood for one gold coin was undeniably bait, making it seem like quite the steal.

Little did anyone know, it was merely a trap.

With this in mind, Lynn pulled a slender wire from the seam of his sleeve.

After learning the hard way from being cuffed last time, he had since taken precautions.

Every day, he stashed a wire in his sleeve for emergencies.

Looking at the sharp wire, Lynn didn’t use it to prick his finger.

After all, he was never the type to play by the rules—why would he listen to some old box?

Feeling the seconds tick away, Lynn stopped hesitating.

He held the wire like a pen, dipped it into the doll’s blood that had just flowed, and began to write on the note.

“Give me two gold coins for one drop of Lynn Bartleon’s blood.”

Lynn wrote.

Once done, he slipped the note back into the box, as that was the only way to complete the process.

Then, squinting his eyes, he silently stared at the box.

After all, this time, the cost was just one drop of blood; even if the magic box wanted to forcibly take it, there wouldn’t be much of a loss.

Why not give it a shot?

Moments later, just as Lynn was watching, a peculiar change occurred.

As the two lines of blood letters vanished from the note, a new line emerged.

“Give me three drops of Lynn Bartleon’s blood for two gold coins.”

Success.

Lynn smiled knowingly at the blood letters on the note.

This thing truly possessed impressive intelligence, perhaps even rivaling that of a human.

And since it was a transaction, bargaining was surely on the table.

So at this moment, the box offered him two gold coins instead of one.

But at the same time, its demand for blood had increased as well.

In short, it was someone who just wouldn’t settle for less.

Such a greedy little guy.

Lynn calculated the time.

At this moment, the originally one-minute deadline had already passed, yet the box hadn’t taken any blood from him.

Could it be that this kind of bargaining interaction didn’t count against the time limit?

Lynn pondered.

So he continued writing on the note: “Give me four gold coins for three drops of Lynn Bartleon’s blood.”

Quickly, the blood letters reappeared.

“Give me five drops of Lynn Bartleon’s blood for four gold coins.”

Lynn wouldn’t back down.

“Give me six gold coins for five drops of Lynn Bartleon’s blood.”

Thus, a bizarre and mysterious equilibrium seemed to arise between him and the box.

As more and more lines of blood letters filled the note, the terms between them kept escalating.

It felt as if Lynn could keep writing indefinitely, avoiding any cost, maintaining a never-ending cycle with the box. Of course, there would inevitably come a breaking point.

After all, Lynn wasn’t a machine; he couldn’t write forever.

Once he stopped, the box would assume the transaction was complete and forcibly take payment.

At that point, perhaps the accumulated amount would reach thousands or tens of thousands of drops of blood—simply something Lynn couldn’t afford.

Thinking of this, another hypothesis formed in Lynn’s mind.

Why did this box keep asking for blood? Could it be that the consciousness residing within needed blood to regain its strength and break free? Lynn found this theory quite plausible.

On the other hand, the fact that the box’s rewards were always gold coins from the Saint Roland Empire also struck him as highly coincidental.

If someone from a neighboring country happened to pick up this box, would it still offer Saint Roland coins? Or could the box provide rewards beyond just coins?

With this train of thought, Lynn suddenly wrote: “Give me a steam engine, and I’ll give you eighteen drops of Lynn Bartleon’s blood.”

This was a wildly unequal trade.

Eighteen drops of blood from Lynn Bartleon certainly didn’t stack up against the value of a steam engine.

He just wanted to see how the box would react.

Sure enough, this time, his handwriting didn’t disappear immediately.

It lingered on the note for a moment, seemingly contemplating, before slowly fading away.

“Give me one drop of Lynn Bartleon’s blood for one gold coin.”

The blood letters reappeared.

And this time, everything seemed to revert back to the beginning.

Did the box reset because it judged the trade unfeasible?

After all, given the box’s size, it couldn’t possibly contain a steam engine.

Lynn had a hunch.

Then he continued writing: “Give me a smartphone for one drop of Lynn Bartleon’s blood.”

Once again, his blood wouldn’t compare to the value of a smartphone.

But this time was different.

A smartphone could easily fit inside the box.

However, the progression of events went exactly as Lynn had anticipated.

With the emergence of the blood letters, the trade was reset yet again.

Of course, things that didn’t exist in this world couldn’t be materialized.

Lynn silently concluded.

Time flew by as he made attempt after attempt.

After what felt like an eternity, he suddenly stretched and straightened up.

“I think I’ve figured it out.” Lynn sighed, “Ultimately, it’s still pointless; what a waste of time.”

“This boring game should come to an end.”

As he murmured to himself, Lynn grinned mischievously at the empty room.

There must be someone watching right now, right?

If so, in the next moment, Lynn pinched the note he had yet to throw into the box and displayed it in a certain direction.

Written on it was a new line.

“Give me one gold coin for a promise: Rhine Augusta will set you free.”

Once thrown into the box, according to the rules, it would forcibly complete the transaction.

Next up would be the time for a little fun with Rhine.

“…”

Morris was sweating bullets, nearly at a loss for words.

This was way too bold.

Watching Lynn exploit the cycle and toy with the Greed Magic Box, he couldn’t help but feel a shiver of dread.

After all, someone who could come up with such a devious idea could surely use the same trick to outplay him.

He wondered how vengeful Lynn might be, and whether he would settle the score in due time.

Rhine, on the other hand, said nothing as he stared at the scene in the mirror, looking somewhat incredulous.

“If I were you, I’d go apologize to him right now.”

Milani remarked, eyeing Rhine’s pale face.

These two were on completely different levels; to Lynn, Rhine was merely a clown.

How infuriating!

How infuriating!!! In this moment, Rhine was consumed by rage.

He had thought he could take a satisfying jab at Lynn, yet in the end, it was just that guy showing off his skills.

This outcome was unacceptable! With his arrogant personality, how could he willingly go and apologize to Lynn? Thinking this, Rhine, looking as if he had chewed on a lemon, prepared to leave.

But then suddenly, Lynn in the mirror flashed an oddly sinister smile.

That grin made Rhine’s blood boil.

What’s with that arrogance?!

Just as he was about to explode, he suddenly noticed Lynn holding a piece of paper.

For some reason, an uneasy premonition crept into Rhine’s heart.

Under the gaze of the others, Lynn slowly revealed the note.

Upon seeing the content of the note, Milani’s expression changed instantly.

“Quick, quick! Go call Her Highness the Princess! If he really tosses that note into the box, we’re in big trouble!”

“He wants to unleash whatever’s trapped inside the box!!!”