Michael stared at his account balance in a daze as he slowly made his way out of the trade center.
[Your account balance is $16,803,543.]
Sixteen million dollars.
That was the total amount he’d earned from selling the remains of the Gargoyles.
How did Michael feel?
Scared.
The sheer amount of money momentarily frightened him.
But after the fear came a short burst of greed.
Greed for what?
It was simple—the Black Tower.
Michael couldn’t even count how many Gargoyle remains he’d seen back in that place, especially on the second floor.
And that wasn’t even including the tower itself, which was likely worth an astronomical amount to be able to withstand the violent clashes between monsters as strong as Lucky.
If just a small part of it earned him this much, how much could the entire structure and its contents be worth?
Before, Michael had been cautious—almost reluctant—about returning to the ruins.
Now, he was eager to claim them as his own.
However, realization left him a little frustrated.
To attend an academy, he needed strength.
To evolve his undead continuously—and ensure he didn’t lose control as they grew stronger—he needed strength.
And now, to claim a treasure as valuable as the Black Tower, he also needed strength.
This one was especially frustrating since, without sufficient power, it wasn’t just failure he risked—it was death.
Strength.
It was the one thing Michael didn’t have enough of.
Strength and money.
“Ugh,” Michael groaned as his excitement began to wane, bringing him back to reality.
Though he would have loved to leave the money untouched in his account for a while longer, nothing in this cursed world ever went according to plan.
“But there’s no way 16 million can finish that fast, right? Now that I have this much, even if I buy better equipment for my undead as they grow stronger, there should still be a lot left, right?”
When it came to his own growth, Michael couldn’t be selfish.
But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the vanity of knowing he had millions in his account.
“There’s no way my talent will lead me to the path of being infinitely broke, right?”
Michael was unsure, but a part of him whispered that it might.
Maybe not now, but definitely later.
Remembering he needed to get equipment for his orcs, Michael retraced his steps back to the Trade Centre.
“You want to buy some weapons?” the middle-aged man at the counter, surprised by Michael’s return, asked to confirm.
“Yes.”
“And you want them big and heavy?” The man couldn’t help but glance at Michael’s slender frame as he said this, his gaze filled with slight doubt.
Big and heavy for supernaturals like them was like a mountain for ordinary humans. It definitely wasn’t going to be simple.
Michael’s eye twitched when he noticed.
The man didn’t need to speak for Michael to guess what he was thinking.
“The weapons aren’t for me,” Michael clarified, though he immediately felt he might have said too much.
Wasn’t he just confirming he wasn’t as strong as he looked?
“Oh,” the middle-aged man said, thankfully not commenting further on Michael’s choice of purchase.
Soon, Michael was led to yet another door.
Along the way, he was tempted to ask how big the Association really was.
From the outside, it already looked massive, but inside, it seemed even larger.
It was honestly bigger than it looked.
The equipment room was spacious, though not as vast as the underground areas he’d seen earlier.
It housed several compartments filled with categorized weapons.
However, Michael couldn’t help but feel that if he wanted to arm all of his undead, the equipment in the room might not suffice.
Still, he didn’t comment on this.
He assumed the Association had its own ways of managing inventory.
Though unsure about the exact number of supernaturals in Woodstone City, Michael guessed it must be substantial.
Even with another Supers Association branch in the city, the demand for weapons had to be significant.
Still, Michael kept his thoughts to himself.
If the time ever came when he needed to buy equipment in bulk, he’d learn how the Association handled such supplies.
The Association’s forum store also sold weapons, ranging from mundane to special, but purchasing in bulk was tricky.
This was one reason Michael hadn’t considered using it to arm his undead.
After allowing Michael a moment to take in the equipment room, the middle-aged man from the trade center finally spoke.
“So, what type of weapon are you looking for? Swords, spears, halberds, hammers, and so on. Name them, and if we have them, I’ll take you to see the models.”
Michael caught a keyword.
Models.
However, now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.
He turned his attention to deciding which weapons would suit his undead.
Among his humanoid undead, Michael decided he didn’t need to arm the female orcs or the wolves.
The former were mages who didn’t rely on physical weapons, though a wand or staff might suit them.
The latter, the wolves, didn’t seem to require any equipment at the moment.
With five female orcs and three undead wolves out of the equation, Michael was left with twelve undead to equip.
Ten male orcs and two blue apes.
All of them were strength-based creatures.
Michael deliberated for a few seconds before coming to a decision.
“Broadswords, axes, and hammers. All of them should be large and heavy,” he stated firmly.
Continue your journey on empire
The middle-aged man nodded, though he was curious about Michael’s insistence on such oversized weapons.
He could sense that Michael wasn’t weak and could likely wield heavy weapons himself.
However, size mattered—too large a weapon could hinder combat ability, especially if the wielder wasn’t adept at using it.
Still, it wasn’t the man’s place to question.
The boy had also stated the weapons were for someone else to use too.
What his customers bought weren’t his business most of the time.
“Please follow me,” the man said after confirming Michael’s choice.