MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

The Null Estate

The melodious chirping of birds resonated through the sky as they soared gracefully, their songs weaving through the morning air.

The soft glow of dawn spilled through a window, casting golden streaks of light into a quiet room.

Within, Anthony lay in peaceful slumber, undisturbed by the world around him.

Moments later, his body stirred, rousing him from his rest.

With a sluggish motion, he rubbed his eyes, the remnants of sleep still clouding his vision.

"Erhh… What time is it?"

Anthony muttered groggily, his voice barely above a whisper as he rose from his bed.

Stretching lazily, he made his way to a nearby mirror, pausing to admire his reflection with a satisfied smirk.

After a brief moment of vanity, he decided to freshen up.

A quick bath and a thorough brush later, Anthony stepped out of his room.

The grand halls of the Null Estate were lined with guards stationed at every corner, their presence formidable, ready to react at a moment's notice.

Yet, the instant Anthony strode forward, a remarkable shift occurred.

All at once, the oppressive aura of the guards dissipated, vanishing as if it had never existed.

Without hesitation, every single person in sight bowed in reverence.

Even the maids, with graceful precision, lowered their heads in silent acknowledgment of his presence.

Anthony didn't spare them so much as a glance, let alone a gesture or a word of acknowledgment.

This was routine, an ingrained practice that repeated itself every day without fail.

If he passed them a hundred times in a single day, they would bow a hundred times without hesitation.

It was excessive.

Yet, Anthony no longer had the patience to acknowledge it each time.

He had long grown weary of the ritual, though he understood it was not something they could abandon.

And so, he chose the simplest course of action, he ignored them entirely.

A butler approached Anthony with practiced grace, bowing respectfully before speaking.

"Good morning, Young Master. Is there anything I can assist you with today?"

Anthony's gaze shifted to the butler, his expression unreadable.

This man, he had been seeing him for the past three months now.

Patrick was gone.

But it wasn't just Patrick.

His father, Michael.

His mother, Mitchelle.

His grandfather, Collins.

His grandmother, Irene.

All of them had vanished into seclusion.

Three months had passed since the Starborn Tournament.

After the grand distribution of rewards, the world had fallen into an eerie silence as countless figures of power withdrew from the public eye.

Anthony's parents and grandparents had lingered for only a few days before they, too, vanished into seclusion, leaving him behind.

The butler standing before him was merely a temporary replacement for Patrick, until the day he returned.

But it wasn't just the Null family that had retreated into isolation.

Across the entire planet, formidable powerhouses had done the same, disappearing the moment they had claimed their rewards.

Where these rewards had originated from remained a mystery, but such trivial details mattered little.

What mattered was power, and they would stop at nothing to refine it.

Forces like the Army and the Adventurers' Guild, which couldn't afford to let all their members vanish into seclusion, took a different approach.

Instead of an abrupt retreat, they distributed their rewards in batches, integrating them into missions and assignments.

Auction houses flourished, selling rare treasures at staggering prices.

Fortunes were made, and wealth flowed like a roaring river.

On the surface, the world seemed tranquil, almost unnaturally so.

And in truth, it was.

At least… for them.

But for Anthony?

Not so much.

For three months, Anthony did nothing of significance.

He ate, slept, traveled the world in luxurious vehicles, spent money on whatever caught his eye, and repeated the cycle without a care.

It was a life of ease.

A rare moment of tranquility.

Until that peace was shattered one fateful night.

Assassins.

They had infiltrated the Null Estate.

It wasn't the first attempt.

Assassins had come for him before, but most never made it past the outer defenses, swiftly dealt with by the estate's guards.

And for those who managed to slip through?

They never got far.

Anthony's personal guards, handpicked by his parents, ensured that none lived long enough to pose a real threat.

After a while, Anthony grew bored of the constant interruptions.

He ordered his personal guards to stand down, to let him handle the assassins himself.

And so, he did.

Yet, no matter how many assassins fell, it was never enough.

The Assassin Guild remained relentless, sending wave after wave as if his death were a necessity.

With so many powerhouses retreating into seclusion, the balance of power had shifted.

Those lurking in the shadows, waiting for their moment, now moved without restraint.

The demand for assassinations skyrocketed.

Guild records showed a staggering increase, assassination missions had surged by over five hundred percent.

Even standard guild missions followed suit, rising at an alarming rate.

As for the Forsaken Cult, news of the massive resource distribution had not escaped their attention.

This wasn't the first time such an event had occurred.

It had happened before.

Twice, to be precise.

And now, for the third time, history was repeating itself.

Determined to uncover the truth, the cult activated every undercover operative they had, their network of spies moving in unison.

After weeks of relentless pursuit, they uncovered the same answer as before, the influx of resources stemmed from the top powerhouses across the planet.

Just as it had the last two times.

But despite their efforts, the real source remained elusive.

How?

Why?

Where?

There was no logical reason for the planet's top powerhouses to suddenly grow generous, freely distributing their wealth.

Besides, resources of such caliber shouldn't even exist on a planet like Blue Planet.

Something didn't add up.

And so, while the world appeared peaceful on the surface… it wasn't.

The Forsaken Cult ran amok.

Their influence spread like wildfire, operating in the shadows and striking from the unseen.

Meanwhile, the assassination market flourished like never before.

With the promise of unparalleled rewards and the lack of protection around high value targets, missions were being completed at an unprecedented rate.

After taking a moment to admire the grandeur of the Null Estate, Anthony returned to his room, lost in thought.

He had briefly considered visiting familiar faces, perhaps the Storm Brothers or Bryan, but quickly dismissed the idea.

They, too, were sons of powerful patriarchs, and like everyone else, they had likely retreated into seclusion.

Anthony himself had received immense resources from the Starborn Tournament's rewards.

Yet, he hadn't touched them.

He didn't need to.

While others scrambled to strengthen themselves, locking themselves away in isolation, Anthony remained untouched by the frenzy.

Because unlike them…

He had just emerged from a century long seclusion before the tournament began.

There was no way he was going back in.

Anthony spent his days unwinding, or rather, doing absolutely nothing.

He allowed his lazy side to take complete control, indulging in a carefree existence while the rest of the world buried itself in rigorous training and seclusion.

As for boredom?

That word didn't exist in his dictionary.

Most of his time was spent indulging in one of his favorite pastimes, gossiping online.

Of course, he did so through an alternate account, his real identity was far too famous to display such behaviour.

And being ridiculously wealthy, Anthony had no qualms about spending millions of quarks at a whim.

He showered webnovel authors with extravagant gifts.

He donated absurd amounts to streamers just to watch their stunned reactions.

Pay to win games?

He bought every character, skill set, weapon, and skin available, with money.

His alternate persona was a legend across the Mananet.

The handle of his account?

THE RICHEST.

Because, quite simply, he was the richest.

Online, they called him the MONEY GOD.

No one could outspend him.

And those who tried?

They only ended up broke.