As Ben walked toward the next destination listed on his phone—a nearby F-rank gate—a notification blinked across his vision, a sudden burst of golden light against the grimy D.C. backdrop:
[ +329 EXP Gained ]
[ +4 Stat Points ]
[ You have Leveled Up to 2 ]
He stopped in his tracks, brows raised in mild surprise. Then, with a practiced swipe, he opened his stat profile. The numbers, once static and unimpressive, now shifted, reflecting his recent "audit" of the alley thugs.
Name: Bennison Crowfield
Player Stat Rank: F-Class
Assigned Class: Mythical Class – Tax Collector
Level: 2 EXP Source: Collection Only
Class Type: Enforcer | Controller | Growth Suppression
Title: "Bearer of the Ledger"
Traits:
Writ of Reprisal – Emergency Protocol
Final Notice – Foreclosure Authority
[ BASE ATTRIBUTES – ALLOCATED STATS ]
Strength: 5
Agility: 4
Intelligence: 7
Endurance: 6
Charisma: 10
Magic: 15
Unspent Stat Points: 14
Stat Growth per Level: +5
[ CURRENT HP ]: 125
[ CURRENT MP ]: 135
[ TAX PRESSURE ]: 100% – Max intimidation and penalty baseline
[ LEDGER CAPACITY ]: 1000 marked entities
[ CLASS EFFECTS – PASSIVES & RULES ]
Cannot gain EXP through combat or kills
Gains 10% of total taxed EXP and stats from others
Can only tax entities up to 50 levels above unless subdued
[ SKILLS – ACTIVE & PASSIVE ]
Passive Skill – Mark of Debt
Active Skill – Ledger View
Ben reviewed the numbers, rubbing his chin. His Magic stat, surprisingly high for a starting class, and his Charisma, even more so, caught his attention. A surprise, yes, but a useful one. Intimidation would be key to his work, after all; a high Charisma would only make his demands more… persuasive. Agility would help him close the distance on fleeing debtors, and Strength would ensure his "seals" landed with appropriate impact.
After a moment of careful thought, he allocated his unspent points: +5 to Charisma +5 to Agility +4 to Strength
The moment he confirmed the allocation, a subtle, invigorating shift rippled through him. Muscles tightened, reflexes quickened, and his very presence felt heavier, more imposing. It was the sensation of becoming more himself, but with a sharper edge.
Later, he arrived at the F-Rank gate, located on a sealed-off bridge that hummed with latent mana. The area swarmed with low-level players and rookie parties, their chatter and boasts filling the air. Government PBA agents, looking harried and underpaid, regulated entry, checking IDs with weary efficiency.
Without a word, Ben flicked his ID card in front of the nearest agent's face. The agent, a young woman with tired eyes, blinked at the F-rank designation, then at Ben's unreadable expression, and let him through without question.
A group of players nearby, decked in mismatched scavenged gear, whispered and chuckled as he passed.
"Who goes into a gate in a suit and tie?"
"Some kind of joke, right?"
"Must be cosplay... or a Tax Collector!" one said, laughing, the absurdity of the notion echoing amongst his companions. The others roared at the joke, oblivious to the man in black walking among them.
But inside, Bennison wasn't here to amuse.
The gate shimmered, warped, and then deposited him into a shallow woodland. A narrow dirt path wound through ancient, gnarled trees, their leaves a muted green. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something vaguely metallic—mana, perhaps. He walked silently, his briefcase still clutched in his hand, its presence oddly comforting. Ten minutes passed in quiet solitude, the only sounds the rustle of unseen creatures and his own steady footsteps.
Then, a sudden, sharp jolt.
[ Writ of Reprisal – Emergency Protocol Triggered ]
His briefcase shimmered, dissolved, and vanished. In its place, as if conjured from the very concept of justice, appeared the Scales of Guilt in his left hand, their golden pans gleaming, and the Shortsword of Compliance in his right, its blade a stark, unyielding silver. A golden aura surged through him, radiating an oppressive weight. His stats slightly boosted, a rush of power that felt both alien and perfectly natural.
Temporary Boost: +20% Attributes
Debuff Resistance: Active
Reprisal Mode: 2 Minutes
From behind the gnarled trees, six goblins stepped out, their crude weapons glinting, their eyes narrowed in ambush. They were scrawny, green-skinned, and reeked of stale blood and unwashed skin. Ben's eyes flicked over each of them, assessing, calculating. He activated Mark of Debt.
One by one, glyphs of shimmering gold seared into their bodies, appearing just above their heads like invisible brands. The goblins yelped, startled, pawing at the air where the marks now floated.
His stats surged slightly from the audit marks, a trickle of power flowing into him. He said nothing—no IRS officer warns before foreclosure.
The goblins, recovering from their surprise, charged with guttural shrieks, their crude axes and clubs raised.
Ben moved like water, a fluid, precise dance. He wasn't a brawler; he was an enforcer. Each strike with his blade inflicted one of several random debuffs, chosen by the System with chilling impartiality:
[ Seal of Stat Recalibration: -15–30% to all stats. ]
[ Seal of Silence: Seals 2–4 random skills. ]
[ Seal of Arms: Disarms and locks weapons. ] Or worse:
[ Chain of Accountability ] — full immobilization pending judgment.
A goblin warrior, its axe suddenly too heavy, stumbled as its Strength plummeted. Another tried to throw a spear, only for strength to dip, its stats sealed. A third found its club dissolving in its hands, leaving it flailing helplessly.
Each time a goblin managed to land a glancing blow, a passive system kicked in, absorbing the impact:
Passive Mode: Reprisal Mode (2 minutes active)
5% of all incoming damage is siphoned and returned as armor or damage reflection.
Dodging, countering, and applying seals with chilling precision, Ben soon had each goblin bound in glowing golden chains, their struggles futile. Then, one by one, a dimensional vortex of swirling darkness opened beneath them. Their screams were silenced, cut off abruptly as they were dragged into their audit cells, leaving behind only the lingering scent of ozone and fear.
Inside the Seizure Cell, they'd be slowly stripped of EXP and stats over time—until nothing remained. A passive EXP generator. Ben smirked, a grim, satisfied curl of his lips.
But first—judgment.
He accessed the Judgment Panel, a new interface that shimmered into existence before him. He selected a prior offender: the thug archer from earlier, the one who had been dragged away from the alley.
Verdict: Account Reset
EXP: Seized
Stats: Seized
A distant, digital scream echoed in Ben's mind, a phantom sound of pure, unadulterated despair. The archer reappeared in the alley, a hollow shell of his former self, his eyes vacant, his body devoid of all Player power. He screamed again, a raw, animal sound, and ran, a terrified, powerless man.
Ben, meanwhile, received his due:
[ +1,706 EXP Gained (10% of 17,067 Seized) ]
[ +9 Stat Points Acquired (From 90 Stat Seizure) ]
[ Total EXP Earned: 1,706 EXP ]
[ You Have Leveled Up to 5 ]
A wide, genuine grin spread across his face, a rare sight. He had jumped three levels in a single transaction. He redistributed his 24 new stat points with practiced efficiency:
+5 Magic
+9 Charisma
+5 Endurance
+5 Agility
He exhaled deeply, a satisfied sigh. His body buzzed with new energy, a profound sense of power settling into his bones. His aura darkened, becoming almost palpable, a silent promise of relentless enforcement.
Then, he opened his trait details, the Final Notice trait glowing.
Trait: Final Notice – Foreclosure Authority"You have failed to comply. Your rights, power, and agency are hereby revoked."
Type: Class Trait (Passive / Triggered Active)
Condition: Target must be under [Mark of Debt] or [Ledger View] with either 85%+ overdue penalty or 30+ days default.
▶ Foreclosure Seizure (Trigger):
Imprisons target in a Dimensional Seizure Cell
Sealed targets cannot gain EXP, drop loot, or interact
System access locked until judgment
▶ Judgment Options:
-Permanent Sealing
Target becomes passive EXP/Stamina regen node
Remaining stats will be absorbed and used as passive EXP until death.
Can be summoned once per day as bound combat support
-Account Reset (Clean Start Option)
Target's character is fully wiped:
Level reset to Lv. 1
All stats, EXP and outstanding debt are erased.
EXP account balance reduced to zero
No debt remains; clean slate.
Target is immune to audit for 30 days post-reset.
[ Only available once per player/monster. ][ If reoffended after reset → only permanent imprisonment or servitude allowed. ]
-Debt Servitude:
Target becomes a Taxbound Servant
Automatically applies [Mark of Debt]
Equipped with Miniature Club of Compliance
Can seal, disarm, and suppress others
Cannot pass final judgment or reset accounts
Promotion – Tax Officer Class:
Condition: Must be a Taxbound Servant and all dept is repaid.
Converts target to [Tax Officer Subclass]
Gains small share of taxed EXP
Loyalty enforced by System Contract
[ System Note: ]
Divine-tier targets may resist. Success chance scales with total taxed power.
Ben grinned. The goblins could still be useful. He selected Debt Servitude for all six.
Moments later, they reappeared—slightly smaller, their crude rags replaced by ill-fitting, but surprisingly neat, black suits. Each held a gleaming, miniature golden compliance club. They looked confused at first, blinking in the sudden light, then a strange, almost childlike pride swelled in their chests, their chests puffing out slightly.
Ben stood before them, his gaze cold, commanding.
"You are tasked with marking anyone without a seal. Point of reference—" he gestured to a still-bound goblin bearing the Mark of Debt glowing above it's head, a silent example. "You are authorized to strike non-compliant entities. Do you understand?"
The goblins, sweating and wide-eyed, nodded quickly, their heads bobbing in unison.
"Good. Go."
They scattered into the forest, their tiny black suits a comical sight as they vanished among the trees, eager to prove their newfound purpose.
Ben's sword and scale shimmered, dissolved, and were replaced by his familiar, unassuming briefcase. He smoothed his tie, his expression unreadable, and continued forward—his steps calm, purposeful.
Justice didn't always need a gavel. Sometimes, it needed an audit.