Creating A Succubus Army In A Fantasy World!-Chapter 62: Bloody Shylock! [Bonus]

[Here’s the bonus Chapter for the review as promised! Enjoy!]

Creed reached the entrance, his footsteps steady, his face calm, but his mind was already preparing for trouble.

Standing before him were the five guards, their eyes sharp and assessing, their expressions unreadable.

One of them, a tall, burly man with a scar running from his forehead down to his cheek, took a single step forward and crossed his arms.

His voice was gruff, carrying the weight of someone who had spent years in the business of making people disappear.

"State your business."

Creed didn’t flinch. He simply reached into his pocket, pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper, and held it up.

"I’m here to pay my debt," he said calmly.

The guard eyed him for a moment before taking the paper and glancing at it.

It was the last notification letter Alfonzo’s people had sent him; a very polite way of saying, Pay up, or bad things will happen.

The man grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. It wasn’t a friendly smile. It was the kind of grin a person gave when they saw a cat trapped in a corner, with nowhere to run.

"Well, well, well. Look who actually came to pay up." He turned his head slightly toward the others.

"Boys, let’s give him a round of applause for his responsibility."

The other guards chuckled darkly.

Creed remained stone-faced. He wasn’t here to entertain them.

The scarred man took one last look at the paper before tossing it back to Creed. "Go inside," he said. "The boss is waiting."

The moment Creed stepped inside, the mood changed completely.

The interior was simple, almost boringly plain. White walls, clean floors, dim lighting. There was no excessive decoration, no extravagant furniture, nothing that screamed wealth.

A receptionist, a middle-aged woman with bored eyes and a robotic tone, barely glanced up from her screen before speaking.

"Follow me."

Creed followed her through the hallway, the silence of the place unsettling in a way that made his instincts stay sharp.

After a minute of walking, they reached a solid black door. The receptionist knocked twice.

A tiny voice, high-pitched and almost childlike, responded from within.

"Enter."

Creed pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The contrast between the boring outside and the luxurious inside almost made him snort.

The office was lavish. It wasn’t just decorated; it was a collection of wealth itself.

The walls were lined with reinforced glass shelves, each one holding rare artifacts, golden ornaments, gemstones, and ancient treasures.

A large crimson carpet stretched across the floor, leading directly to an exquisitely crafted wooden desk. Behind the desk sat Alfonzo.

Creed took a seat without waiting for permission, his eyes settling on the man across from him.

Alfonzo was, to put it bluntly, short.

He barely looked like he reached five feet tall, and despite being dressed in a sharp black suit, the effect was somewhat ruined by his comically round belly.

His chubby fingers were adorned with multiple rings, each one probably worth enough to buy a house.

And then there was his voice.

That tiny, high-pitched voice.

If someone had never seen Alfonzo before and only heard him speak, they would assume he was a small child.

But Creed knew better. Beneath that strange, adorable exterior was a ruthless businessman who ripped people apart financially before they even realized what was happening!

Alfonzo smiled, leaning back in his chair.

"Quite the surprise," he said, his voice almost musical. "I heard you survived the beast tide, kid. How’d you manage that?"

Creed ignored him. He had no interest in small talk. He was only here for one reason.

"How much do I need to pay?"

Alfonzo let out a mock sigh, tapping his fingers against his desk.

"So impatient," he said. "You should at least humor me a little, boy. It’s not often someone crawls out of a disaster like that alive."

Creed’s expression didn’t change.

"Just tell me the amount."

Alfonzo let out a small chuckle before pulling out a neatly printed document from his desk. He slid it across the table toward Creed, his chubby fingers tapping against the paper.

"Alright then. You originally loaned 10,000 credits from me two years ago. With interest, that amount has now grown to..."

Alfonzo smiled.

"50,000 credits."

Creed froze.

For a moment, he just stared.

Then his eyebrow twitched.

"Wait a damn minute—"

He grabbed the paper, scanning it quickly. His brain refused to process what he was seeing.

"50,000?!"

His eyes snapped up to Alfonzo, disbelief and irritation flashing across his face.

"What kind of ridiculous interest rate is this?!"

He knew the interest rate from before. He remembered it clearly. It was supposed to be 20%.

At most, his debt should have only grown to...

His mind did a quick calculation.

At 20% per annum, compounded over two years, his debt should be around 14,400 credits. Not 50,000!

Creed’s expression darkened.

"Are you trying to cheat me, Alfonzo?"

The short man grinned.

"Oh, Creed, Creed, Creed..."

He tapped the document with a single finger. "I guess you didn’t read the clauses too well."

Alfonzo’s cheeky grin widened as he rummaged through his desk, his chubby fingers moving with an infuriating amount of confidence.

It was clear he had done this a thousand times before; playing dumb, acting all innocent, and then suddenly slamming down some absurdly legal-looking document that turned all logic on its head.

With a flourish, he pulled out a neatly arranged file, flipping through the pages before stopping at a particular section.

Then, he slid the document toward Creed, tapping it with a smug little finger.

"Clause 1,117, subsection B."

Creed narrowed his eyes, leaning forward as he read the fine print.

It didn’t take long for his brain to short-circuit.

"What the actual—?!"

The ridiculous clause stared him dead in the face, written in cruelly formal legalese:

[If the borrowing party fails to repay the loan on or before one year from the date of issuance, the lender has the absolute right to increase the interest rate to—]

Creed’s eye twitched violently.

(1000%?!)

His hand tightened into a fist, his nails digging into his palm as his entire body screamed to flip the damn table and launch this tiny, scheming loan shark straight through the reinforced glass shelves behind him.

This was a complete scam.

A legal scam!

Alfonzo had set it up perfectly, knowing that desperate people would sign without reading the details.

And the worst part? The former owner of this body had actually fallen for it!

Creed’s teeth clenched.

"You bloody Shylock."

Of course, he didn’t say it out loud. But his thoughts were practically vibrating with rage.

What kind of fool signs a contract without reading the fine print?!

Creed wanted to grab his past self by the collar, shake him violently, and demand to know what level of brain damage had led to him missing such an absurd clause.

Meanwhile, Alfonzo simply watched him struggle, his small, beady eyes gleaming with amusement.

"So," he said, his tone losing all pretense of friendliness. "50,000 credits. Pay up."

The way he said it; casual, direct, final, made it clear that there was no room for negotiation.

And then, just to twist the knife further, Alfonzo leaned forward slightly and added, "If you refuse, I’ll be forced to take legal action. And trust me, the law is on my side."

Creed’s stomach sank. He had 65,000 credits. If he paid this ridiculous debt now, he’d be left with a measly 15k.

That was barely even enough to pay off his hotel debt. Not enough to buy resources. Not enough to rent an apartment.

Not even enough to properly feed himself for the next two months!

And two months... was exactly how long he had left before this debt became even worse.

Creed leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, contemplating his next move.

If he paid now, he’d be broke. Completely, utterly broke. A joke of a man with nothing left but regrets.

If he didn’t pay, he still had some time, time to gather more funds, time to prepare, time to potentially make a massive profit in the unexplored rift.

The thing was that, Creed was very weak. He knew it himself. Every Rift Operation was a serious risk and slightest accident could result in a loss of his life!

Should he use this substantial amount of money which would drastically improve his strength and increase his chances of survival, or should he clear a debt that wasn’t due at the moment?

It was a gamble. But at this point? Everything was a gamble. After a long sigh, Creed stood up.

"I’ll be back soon."

Alfonzo smiled, spreading his hands as if he didn’t have a care in the world. "Take your time, my dear client. You could even choose not to pay for another four years."

Creed’s eyebrow twitched.

"Oh?"

Alfonzo’s smile grew sharper.

"Of course. The worst that can happen is you start working for me."

Creed felt something inside him snap. This tiny, smug bastard!

Without another word, he spun around and left, shoving open the door with a little too much force.

The moment he stepped outside, he let out a deep, exhausted sigh. He had thought he was rich. 65k credits? That was a fortune.

But in the end, it was nothing. Nothing!

If he wanted true financial freedom, if he wanted to stop dealing with scumbags like Alfonzo, he needed real money.

And the only way to get it...

Was the unexplored rift.

If he made a killing there, if he managed to find something rare, something that the Primordial Exchange valued highly, then all of this, all of this stress, this frustration, this debt would mean nothing.

His resolve hardened. He had no choice. He needed to go all in.

And then;

DING!

A sudden chime echoed in his mind. Creed froze. A holographic display flickered to life in front of him, glowing faintly.

Then, in bold, golden letters, text began to appear before his eyes.

[SYSTEM UPGRADE COMPLETE!]

His heart skipped a beat.

"...Oh?"