Chapter 58: Foundations and Capital

Upon hearing the proposal from across the table, Chen Qing uncharacteristically fell into deep thought. He regarded the other person for a long while before finally asking, “What are the terms of the contract?”

“There are two,” she replied, stretching lazily, her demeanor one of utter indifference. Her voice was calm, suppressing the emotions roiling within as she spoke slowly: “First, help me find certain specified heritage artifacts I require. I’ll give you the details later.”

She paused for a moment before continuing: “Second, create some trouble for the Foundation on my behalf.”

Chen Qing frowned, his fingers tapping the tabletop. “You really think, just by relying on this back room, you’ll find someone able to avenge you? Isn’t that a little too idealistic?”

The woman made a noncommittal sound, but seemed slightly surprised. “Honestly, this back room was only discovered a few months ago, and yet someone so clearly at odds with the Foundation has already shown up. That caught me off guard. Besides, this person possesses a notable degree of resistance to the occult.

I won’t hide it from you. Before I died, I activated a Class-C heritage artifact—the Sacred Wheel. That artifact revealed to me glimpses of the future, and in those visions, I was destined to meet my avenger here. So…”

“I understand,” Chen Qing nodded, still frowning. Then he asked, “What’s the effect of the heritage artifact you seek?”

“Resurrection.”

“Is that even possible?” His brow furrowed deeper.

“No one’s succeeded yet, but no one’s stopped researching either.” She smiled, carefree, almost nonchalant. “Would you say that I’m alive or dead? Aside from being unable to enjoy physical pleasures, I can do nearly everything I did while alive. Can you truly call me dead?”

He hesitated, then nodded in agreement. “So, the so-called capital you mentioned—is that just a euphemism for me becoming your mobile vessel?”

She didn’t answer, but a faint smile played at the corners of her lips as she averted her gaze and began her story: “Many years ago, the Foundation was much purer in nature.

We contained, we protected.

Back then, the Foundation was full of talented people. We never had to worry about research funding or material sources. The organization was pure to the point that researchers could spend decades in the lab without ever meeting the leadership.

But you know—an organization wielding such power and capital could never remain so innocent.

Soon, as massive amounts of outside capital poured in, droves of heritage artifact researchers were dismissed, leaving only those working on high-risk, high-return projects. Most management duties for heritage artifacts, once handled by professional investigators and researchers, were passed off to death row inmates and foreign nationals bought from who knows where.

Heritage artifacts that required specialized management and couldn’t be safely contained were scattered across the world by various means, catalyzed into back rooms, then used for profit extraction.

Imagine—when an organization with such immense power handles all your supernatural crises, when every umbrella in a region is sold by a single company, do you really think the rain will ever stop?

Yes, in the Foundation back then, even human trafficking was considered a relatively benign activity.

The artifacts they abandoned left behind untold sacrifices, and the nameless victims’ entire life’s wealth would be seized by the Foundation.

Those who survived were absorbed at the earliest opportunity, pressed into service as the lowest-level investigators.

They treated these people as expendables, binding those involved with heritage artifacts to the organization through money, and, by controlling the artifacts and all research data, began systematically demoting the original personnel.

Within the Foundation, anything you wanted to know or needed had to be bought from the organization.

But where would you get money? You started with nothing; your only option was to risk your life on Foundation-issued assignments.

And whatever you earned would all flow back to the Foundation.

In that place, even death was a form of release…”

Chen Qing frowned. “Sounds just like capitalism.”

“That’s exactly what it was—a structure built on accumulated capital.” She shook her head and continued, “Everything for the Foundation, above all else. That place was the perfect embodiment of cyberpunk.

The elites at the top enjoyed the artifacts, while the masses at the bottom burned their lives as fuel. You can’t imagine how those who survived their first back room experience mustered the courage to enter a second. They often didn’t even have proper shoes or clothes.”

“And you? What was your role in all of this?”

He regarded her, searching her face for any sign of emotion.

“Me?” She laughed softly at his question. “I was the chief overseer of all researchers in the Foundation. Among all the technical staff, I was the only one who knew the major investors and sponsors. I was the sole provider of heritage artifacts for their enjoyment. I am the very person who turned the Foundation into the monstrous entity it is today.”

Chen Qing drew a sharp breath, a look of genuine shock crossing his features for the first time. He stared at her, bewildered. “Then why—?”

“Capital determines the ceiling for everyone’s advancement. The CEO’s seat can only be inherited by the CEO’s offspring, and the shares you buy with your hard-earned money will be diluted to nothing over time.

So, tell me—who most wanted me dead?”

Chen Qing applauded and laughed, his tone light. “Ha! That must have been a long list.”

“Yes… a very long list. Capital is a man-eating beast. They were too eager, and they let that beast loose within the Foundation. Now, the beast has devoured them all.”

“And you want to devour that beast yourself.”

She smiled seductively, her tongue tracing her lips.

She nodded slightly. “Who wouldn’t want to pocket the largest enterprise in the world? Who wouldn’t want their bank account to be nothing but pure numbers?”

He sighed, but then broke into a smile at last. “You really are unrestrained.”

“This world is what it is. If you don’t eat others, you’ll be eaten.”

Laughing, he extended his hand. “Let’s start over. I’m Chen Qing, and I accept your contract.”

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger, smiling slyly, unmistakable greed glinting in her eyes. “Aren’t you curious why I seek heritage artifacts?”

“Would you tell the truth?”

“That depends.”

“In this world…” Chen Qing met her gaze, his expression calm. “The only truly terrifying people are those without any desires—they have nothing to lose, nothing to bind them.

You have desires. That means we’ll always have room to negotiate. We’re just partners—let’s not talk about sincerity or sentiment.”

She laughed, covering her mouth, unable to stop.