Apocalypse Trade Monopoly
Chapter 142: : Threadcut

Chapter 142: : Threadcut

Slowly two figures seated turned the moment Lucas entered.

Ava followed him inside and stood behind his left shoulder. Silent. Bracer flickering.

Lucas gave them both a nod.

"Let’s make it fast. I’m stacking trades today."

The first figure—a woman shaped like mist and metal—smiled thinly. "You always did like speed over safety."

The second, taller and sharper, nodded toward Ava. "Bodyguard?"

"No," Ava said, voice flat. "Insurance."

Lucas didn’t flinch. "Any of you move shady, she doesn’t ask questions. She just acts."

Ava cracked her knuckles.

The taller trader chuckled.

"Fine by me."

Lucas pulled a new data slip from his coat. "I want the anomaly signature from the west sinkhole pre-collapse archive. I know you pulled it. I’ll trade two encrypted gate codes and one medical vault key."

The two traders glanced at each other.

The mist-woman leaned forward. "You’re missing a payment."

Lucas tapped the slip once. A small, silent flash triggered behind his back—Ava’s system pinged a light-pulse, no threat detected, but it primed her bracer.

[ENGAGEMENT MODE: SAFETY OFF][COMMAND: STANDBY – LETHAL OVERRIDE ENABLED]

"Payment," Lucas said softly, "is leverage. You want my part, you give me yours. Or we reset the table and I wipe your names off every bunker trade registry in two clicks."

They both stiffened.

Ava didn’t move.

The taller one finally sighed.

"Accepted."

The data drop hit Lucas’s bracer.

Ava’s system confirmed it.

Lucas turned without another word and walked out.

Ava followed, pulse steady.

Back in the neutral zone of the Mindspace, she finally said, "So how many more?"

Lucas glanced at her, grinning. "Two. But if we’re lucky? Only one’s going to need bullets."

The Mindspace twisted again.

Lucas walked forward without hesitation, like he’d memorized the layout from some invisible map only he could read. Ava followed, slower, scanning every detail now. She didn’t trust this next step.

Didn’t trust the stillness.

The last trade zone they entered was too quiet.

No glowing orbs. No hovering screens.

Just a corridor made of reflective dark stone. It looked endless—like a concept of space, not a place.

Ava’s bracer pulsed.

[ANOMALY DETECTED – THREAD CONSISTENCY: BROKEN][ENVIRONMENT STABILITY: 67%][WARNING: THIS IS NOT AN OFFICIAL LEGACY TRADE ZONE]

"Lucas," she said tightly.

He stopped. Didn’t turn around.

"I know," he said. "I figured it when the corridor extended past 400 meters without loop compression."

"You knew it was fake and still walked in?"

"It’s not fake," he said, voice calm. "It’s bait."

Ava stepped up beside him, bracer humming harder now. Her vision kept glitching—brief flickers of static that cut through the memory of light.

"Who’s baiting you?"

"Don’t know yet." He turned his head slightly, eyes gleaming. "That’s why I brought you."

Before she could reply, the corridor snapped open.

A wide, circular platform appeared—floating in a void, ringed by jagged data shards and thought structures decaying mid-pattern.

A single figure stood at the center.

Draped in black.

No face. Just a mirror where the head should be, reflecting them back at themselves.

"Welcome, Bai," the figure said, voice layered like a corrupted song file. "You’ve gone too deep."

Lucas didn’t flinch. "Didn’t know there was a line."

"There always is," the figure replied. "And you’ve crossed into the part where debt becomes identity."

"I always pay in full," Lucas said coolly.

"That’s the problem," the figure said. "You paid too much. Left too many marks. Now the system wants correction."

Ava’s system screamed.

[MEMETIC TRAP DETECTED][REALITY COHERENCE: DEGRADED]

[EXTRACTION PATHWAY: UNSTABLE]

"Lucas," she said. "We need to leave."

"I know."

The mirrored figure stepped forward. "You don’t leave legacy debt, Bai. You become it."

Then—

The whole world pulsed.

The memory-space tore sideways. The corridor vanished. The edges of the platform began bleeding code—thin strings of red and black data unraveling like veins.

The mirrored figure split—three copies of itself forming at once, each shifting their form like they were stealing Lucas’s own face, his posture, his voice.

Ava snapped her arm forward.

"System—engage hardlight protocol. Weapon loadout 03."

[ACTIVE – FUSION RAIL TRACER: READY]

A rifle formed in her hands—not physical, but solid in this place. A thing made of permission, code, and sheer will.

Lucas didn’t move.

"Don’t shoot yet," he said quietly. "They’re just ghosts."

Ava aimed anyway. "They’re moving like people."

"That’s because they’re mine."

The mirrored figures all spoke at once.

"You’ve betrayed every rule. Bartered every bond. There’s nothing left of you but deals and desperation."

Ava moved to flank him. "Lucas—"

He turned just slightly.

"I need you to cut me out, if I lose track."

"What?"

"They’re not trying to kill me," he said. "They’re trying to rewrite me. Replace the parts that are me with the trades I made. They’re using my own legacy against me."

The mirrored versions rushed.

Ava fired.

[HARDLIGHT SHOT DEPLOYED – CONNECTION: FRAGMENTED][IMPACT: WEAK – ENEMY TYPE: NON-STATIC]

The shots passed through the first copy, splintering its form—but the others reformed behind them, shifting faster, now walking toward Ava too.

She kept firing. Circles of light and data exploded in spirals.

Lucas stood absolutely still, eyes half-shut, jaw locked.

"They’re trying to pin me to the market memory," he muttered. "Like I’m just a system construct."

"You are not," Ava growled, voice sharp, pulling another burst and launching it.

One mirror form split down the middle—showing flickers of Lucas’s face warped with gold light leaking like blood.

"Lucas," Ava shouted. "Now would be a great time to do something terrifying."

He exhaled.

And then—

Lucas spoke.

"Market Close Protocol: Bai. Code Risen."

The platform shook.

Every mirror froze.

Then shattered—cracking down the middle like glass hit by the truth.

Silence crashed into the space.

Ava lowered her weapon, bracer still glowing.

Lucas opened his eyes.

"I left a backdoor," he said. "Didn’t think I’d need it. But here we are."

Ava scanned the fading echoes of the trap.

[INTRUSION TERMINATED][MEMETIC VIRUS PURGED][LEGACY STATUS: RESTORED – THREAD CLEANSED]

She looked at him sideways.

"You really don’t do small trades, do you?"

Lucas grinned, breathless. "Where’s the fun in that?"

Ava exhaled slowly, shaking the shimmer out of her hands. Her system was still stabilizing, rebooting combat overlays and stripping threat filters off the edges of her vision. The world around them shimmered again—like the space itself needed a moment to breathe.

She looked at him.

"You said three more deals," she muttered. "That was number two."

Lucas straightened, brushed off his coat like he hadn’t just fought for his identity. "Correct."

"So what’s number three? A warlord in a cloak? A cursed memory vault? One of your exes?"

He turned.

Smirked.

"Nope."

A flash.

And the Mindspace shifted.

This time, there was no stylized architecture, no floating lanterns or dramatic silence. It simply opened—like walking into a waiting room built by algorithms, not architects. The walls pulsed with data blur, slow rotations of system logs and market fluctuations.

Lucas stopped short.

Ava followed, scanning the room with the same quiet suspicion she’d developed after surviving too many ambushes in corridors like this.

"What now?" she asked.

Lucas stepped forward. "Information kiosk."

Ava blinked. "Like... a market news stand?"

"Legacy-tier," he confirmed. "The stuff they don’t broadcast to anyone who’s not already a stakeholder."

The air shimmered.

A desk blinked into place—flat black, glassy smooth, with a single figure seated behind it: a humanoid form composed entirely of thin light and outline, wearing a three-piece suit etched in legal code. No face. Just a name across the chest.

[MR. SETTLE – TRUTHBROKER]

Lucas gave a polite nod. "Afternoon, Counselor."

"Mr. Bai," said the light-form. Its voice was crisp. Dry. Like static filtered through a legal dictionary. "Looking to stay informed?"

"Updated policy tier," Lucas said. "Full feed. No filters."

"Payment method?"

Lucas pulled a small chip from his bracer and flicked it onto the desk.

The desk devoured it instantly.

"Accepted," the broker intoned. "Now loading: Strategic Summary – Revision 47B."

A shimmer.

Lines of text and visual summaries unfurled in the air above them—holographic, annotated, and bordered in red.

Ava stepped closer. Her system caught the headlines.

Then her stomach dropped.

[DRAFT LEGISLATION: INDIVIDUAL SYSTEM DEREGULATION][STATUS: FINAL VOTE PASSED – ENFORCEMENT IN 72 HOURS]

She froze. "That’s—"

"Yeah," Lucas muttered.

The screen continued.

All private, self-contained systems to be merged under Collective Sync Architecture.Users will no longer operate independent networks. All system features will be standardized via synchronized communal database.Exceptions: Government-licensed pairs, registered military factions, and corporate-tier nodes.Draft origin: Initiated by ’Unified Rights Reclamation Law Firm.’

Ava hissed. "Of course."

Lucas didn’t react.

He stood perfectly still, golden eyes reading every line, every timestamp, every encoded backdoor.

Ava turned toward him, voice low. "This kills your plans right? Everything you’ve built—your black market routes, your legacy trades, your pair trading structures—none of it works if systems are collectivized."

Lucas didn’t blink.

He just said, "Not yet. But soon."

Ava’s bracer pinged softly, still tuned to watch for threats.

[NO TARGET LOCKED][COMBAT MODE: STANDBY]

She looked down at her hardlight rifle still flickering faintly across her palm. Then let it fade.

"No shooting?" she asked.

"Not today," Lucas replied.

The Truthbroker behind the desk leaned forward.

"Would you like to view the preliminary schema for the Collective Sync Environment?"

"No," Lucas said flatly. "I’ll break it when it launches."

The figure stilled. "You understand this shift cannot be reversed once fully integrated."

Lucas just gave a faint smile. "Then I’ll rewrite the integration."

He turned to Ava. "Let’s go."

She followed, half a step behind, not saying anything until the platform reset itself and the kiosk disappeared in a pulse of grey.

"New plan?" she asked, once they were outside the node.

Lucas sighed. For the first time since entering the Mindspace, his face actually looked tired.