The Villain's Story

Chapter 932: King Midas.

Midas was the king of Phrygia, an ancient kingdom. He was described as a man of immense wealth even before the golden touch, a king who lived in luxury, surrounded by rose gardens of legendary beauty. He was not a cruel man, not a villain in the traditional sense. He was simply a man whose love of gold exceeded his wisdom.

When Dionysus, the god of wine, festivity, and divine madness, lost his elderly satyr companion Silenus, it was Midas who found him wandering drunk through his rose gardens. Rather than turning him away, Midas welcomed Silenus, feasted with him for ten days and nights, and returned him safely to Dionysus.

Grateful, Dionysus offered Midas any gift he desired.

Midas asked that everything he touched be turned to gold, pure gold.

Dionysus granted the wish, but not without a moment of hesitation, perhaps knowing what was coming. Some say the God of Wine tried to convince Midas that it was not a good wish, but Midas was persistent; his love, or obsession for gold, exceeded all else.

At first, it was glorious. Everything his fingers grazed, stone, wood, and cloth, became gleaming, perfect gold. He was intoxicated by it. The most powerful alchemical force in existence channeled through his bare hands.

Then he tried to eat.

The bread hardened. The wine solidified before it reached his lips. Everything that touched his mouth became the very thing he had wished for, and he began to understand, slowly and then all at once, what he had done.

The version of the myth that endures most painfully is the one where his daughter ran to embrace him, and he held her, and she became gold in his arms. A perfect, golden statue of a girl who had been alive moments before. His own daughter turned to gold in his very arms.

And so, the king was heartbroken; he was starving, but he still had all the gold in the world, maybe even more.

Midas returned to Dionysus in despair, begging for the gift to be taken back. Dionysus, perhaps mercifully, perhaps with a quiet lesson intended, told him to wash his hands in the headwaters of the river Pactolus.

He did. The golden touch left him. It passed into the river, which thereafter ran with gold dust and electrum, a detail that ancient Greeks used to explain the actual gold deposits historically found in the Pactolus River in Lydia.

Midas emerged from the water a poorer man in every material sense and richer in every way that actually mattered to the new him. However, [Midas’s Rules of Exchange] do not work in that manner.

“The myth of King Midas, and the actual Unique Skill, [Midas], share some similarities, but they are vastly different as well. King Midas eventually realized his mistake after losing his ability, but not the Unique Skill.

[Midas] has an endless craving that must be fulfilled. An increasing hunger for more, worse, this hunger grows when presented with an object or person with incredible value.”

Maxwell placed the empty wine cup on the table, wary of his Shadow. He did not wish to get smacked on the head once more. As Alan learned about King Midas and his strange power, as well as the differences between the Myth and the actual Unique skill, his eyes lit up.

He almost stood up, and with a cautious tone, he asked.

“…Am I going to be used as an opportunity for you to get revenge on your father?”

Aware of Maxwell’s sheer hatred for his father, Alan knew the man was planning something. Since he learned that Daniel Park had gazed at Alan’s true worth, and with the side effects of Midas, it was only a matter of time before he came for the Ice Dragon…

Alan was wondering how Maxwell planned to take his father down. He was willing to offer his help, but knew the man would never ask for it. It was a lifelong obsession for him; it was what had driven Maxwell to work himself to the bone for almost all his life. Maxwell wasn’t someone who would ask for help.

Though, how would he ever accomplish it? He was barely C-rank, and even if Valus had said that anything could happen below the true ranks of transcendence, it was still a difficult thing to believe.

Someone who was barely C-rank couldn’t go against someone at the rank of SSS. But then again, Maxwell had been planning for it his entire life; perhaps he had a trump card or two of his own.

When Alan thought about it, he recalled the special artifact Maxwell had, a golden Desert Eagle, a rare gun-type artifact. Alan was unsure of the exact specifics of the artifact, but it had to be something ‘crazy’.

Maxwell always kept it on himself, holstered to his waist. He didn’t even place it in his spatial inventory. Alan spotted the gun on his waist, but didn’t use [Dragon Eyes] to extract its information. He didn’t care for it much and felt it might come across as rude.

On the expedition, Maxwell even slept while hugging that thing… Alan assumed he was already a bit crazy. Maybe he even talked to that gun like a lover or something…

It was plausible, and Alan didn’t feel it was right to ask if it was real or not. Maxwell chuckled and answered.

“No, you idiot. It means we can know he’ll do something, sooner or later. It’s nice you told me about this. I can make arrangements in advance.”

He took a deep breath and ruffled his hair, standing up from his seat. He sighed with relief.

“Thankfully, your instincts reacted in time. Only partial information about Kizmal was revealed, not the entire thing, and everything after is hidden too… I’ll warn the other members to keep it a secret from anyone from Titan… or everyone from now on.”

He seemed impatient, but there was an exaggerated, insane smile apparent on his face. Alan didn’t say anything upon seeing this.

“You should be careful too, knowing that bastard, he will definitely do something to ‘get you’ under the rules of Midas, or something else. It might be on that expedition you’re going out on. Amanda Wells is an ‘honorary’ member of Titan; be on your guard.

From the information I have on her, she shouldn’t be one that will just obey that bastard and do what he wants, but be careful nonetheless, and don’t let your tongue loose anymore, especially around anyone from Titan.”

He rubbed his chin for a while, as if in deep contemplation.

“He wouldn’t use [Midas] on you, even if he does, no matter what category he chooses, whether it be Knowledge, Wealth, and Combat, you outclass him in all those… so he wouldn’t engage in a fight with you, but then again, he can do anything…”

Alan nodded his head. If Daniel really had the balls to come and attack Alan, what was he even going to do? Alan would kill him, and as Maxwell said, Alan far outclassed him in the three mentioned categories.

For Knowledge, he knew almost every Supreme Being, Primordials, the Absolutes, the Creator, as well as the memories of the previous loops, and much more. Whatever knowledge Daniel Park could gain on Earth, and even through certain channels with Demonic humans and the Alliance, he was never going to defeat Alan.

This was the same for Wealth; the medallion Alan possessed had a truly ‘fuck-ton’ of money inside it. The House of Death had set up the finances of their prince very well. The medallion itself was probably enough in the exchange of Wealth, and even if it wasn’t, Alan’s heart and the countless Jewels of the Jade Palace could make up for it.

And there was certainly no question about the exchange of Combat… Alan outclassed Daniel Park in Combat, in every damn category. Even his [Dominatus] far surpassed [Midas]. Midas had clear rules for usage and drawbacks as well, and although [Dominatus] had rules for activation as well, Alan was certain that [Dominatus] would be triggered if anything unusual happened with [Midas].

He had no reason to worry about Daniel Park, but then again, Alan had a feeling he wouldn’t be the one fighting Daniel Park. He eyed Maxwell, but refused to say anything.

Maxwell noticed it and chuckled. He said.

“Now, go and get ready, don’t you have a few dates with Sabrina to catch up on? I have a meeting with her too…”

Alan raised his brows and asked.

“About what?”

Maxwell didn’t say anything for a while, leading beads of sweat to form on Alan’s forehead. He didn’t know why they formed exactly…

After a moment of heavy silence, Maxwell broke it with a laugh.

“It’s about the runes, dumbass. What else were you thinking about? We have to figure out a way to sell runes! It’s a damn goldmine.”

He put on his coat and hat, and walked towards the door.

“Now, I have to go-“

But before he could leave, Alan grabbed him by the edge of his coat, and asked in a coarse voice.

“Ahem… recommend me somewhere nice to take her. A good restaurant in Askolt or the Capitol, preferably somewhere with good steak.”