Chapter 7 · Buy a Blade

"Drop the book, or I paint the floor with your brains," the executor sneered.

Cold steel bit into my forehead. The muzzle of the pistol didn't budge. I didn't blink—I couldn't. My heart was a trapped bird hammering against my ribs, and my vision was swimming from the memory-burn.

But inside my head, the Ledger was screaming.

*TRANSACTION PENDING: Bullet’s Trajectory. Price: 10% of Current Vitality.*

"I'm not dropping shit," I wheezed.

*Confirm?*

I slammed the mental button. *Yes.*

*Click.*

The trigger pull was the loudest sound I’d ever heard. I braced for the explosion. For the dark. For the end.

But the blast didn't hit.

A sharp, metallic *ping*—like a coin hitting marble—and the bullet simply vanished. It didn't ricochet. It didn't miss. It was gone, bought out of existence by a book that didn't give a damn about physics.

Then the cost hit.

A sickening drain yanked out of my gut. My knees buckled. I slumped against the wall, gasping for air that felt like wet sand.

"What the hell was that?" the executor barked. He stepped back, face twisting. He racked the slide again, eyes darting between me and the Ledger.

He never got a second shot.