The convoy moved along the road with the precision of a well-tuned machine.
Inside the central car, Eric held the briefcase of money while trying to organize his thoughts.
Four hundred fifty thousand euros.
Clean money.
Formal money.
Traceable money.
But what weighed on him wasn't the amount.
It was the silence.
Emir's men weren't just quiet.
They were different.
Eric watched them through the reflection in the window.
The driver avoided eye contact with the passenger beside him.
The man in the front seat rested his hands on his legs—
But his fingers were tense.
They had realized.
Only during the negotiation had they understood the true scale of the operation.
A thousand gold coins.
Pure gold.
Impossible gold.
Eric felt his stomach tighten.
I showed too much.
Beside him, Elena sat rigid.
Her gaze fixed forward—
But her body betrayed her.
She noticed it too.
"Are you okay?" she whispered, low enough that only he could hear.
Eric forced a faint smile.
"I am."
A lie.
The convoy took a turn that wasn't part of the usual route.
Eric noticed immediately.
He had memorized this path over the past few days.
"That's not the route," he said calmly.
The driver responded without hesitation:
"Route change for security."
Too fast.
Too rehearsed.
Eric felt his blood run cold.
He had underestimated the timing of the break.
He thought he had time to cut ties.
He thought he controlled the pace.
But mercenaries don't wait for the perfect moment.
They create it.
The men began speaking in a language he didn't recognize.
Short.
Direct.
Emotionless.
Operational coordination.
Elena looked at him.
In her eyes—
A question she didn't dare ask.
Eric looked back.
In that moment, they weren't just business partners.
They were two people trapped inside a bad decision.
He took a slow breath.
Without moving much, he whispered internally:
Midas System.
The blue interface appeared at the edge of his vision.
Convert Coins
Dimensional Vault
His heart started racing.
He didn't have physical coins on him.
But he had stored coins.
Inside the vault.
How many?
The interface updated:
Stored Coins: 312
Enough to buy space.
Not enough to buy freedom.
He opened the vault.
The small blue point appeared invisibly beside the seat.
Eric slid his fingers across the upholstery—
As if adjusting his position.
The access opened.
The metallic box floated in the void.
He thought quickly.
He could pull coins.
But gold wouldn't solve this.
What he needed—
Was time.
A distraction.
A mistake from them.
The car slowed.
Too fast.
Too abruptly.
Eric felt the force of the brake against his chest.
The road was now empty.
No lights.
No buildings.
Tactical isolation.
"What's going on?" he asked.
No answer.
The click of unlocked doors sounded like a verdict.
The doors opened simultaneously.
Cold night air flooded the car.
Eric turned toward Elena.
"Stay calm," he whispered.
Two men pulled the rear doors open.
A strong arm grabbed Eric by the collar.
He reacted instinctively—
But another man was already pressing something against his neck.
A sharp sting.
Burning.
Sedative.
Elena screamed.
Short.
Desperate.
Another man restrained her arms with military precision.
Eric tried to speak.
Couldn't.
His vision darkened at the edges.
He forced his eyes open.
Looked at Elena.
She struggled.
Cried.
Called his name.
I'm sorry.
He didn't say it out loud.
But he said it with his eyes.
The system was still open.
Desperately, he thought:
Is there an emergency function?
Nothing.
No combat ability.
No defense mode.
Midas gave economic power.
Not physical.
Not immediate.
The world tilted.
Sounds faded.
He tried to reach for the blue point—
The vault.
Maybe he could grab a coin.
Throw it.
Create a distraction.
But his fingers no longer obeyed.
The vault closed as his concentration broke.
The last thing he saw—
Was Elena's face pressed against the seat as she continued to resist.
The men spoke among themselves.
One grabbed the briefcase.
Another searched Eric's pockets.
"Full sedation in thirty seconds," someone said.
Eric fought the darkness.
Not out of pride.
Not for gold.
But because he knew—
If he lost consciousness now,
He would leave her in the wrong hands.
He tried to memorize everything.
The smell of the dirt.
The slope of the road.
The distant hum of a generator.
Information.
Anything he could use later.
If there was a later.
The darkness rose like water.
Slow.
Inevitable.
The last thing he heard:
"Emir will want to talk to him personally."
Then—
Nothing.
No interface.
No gold.
No control.
And for the first time since the Midas System entered his life—
Eric understood something terrifying:
Power without structure is just provocation.
And he had provoked too much.