100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 283

Chapter 283: Chapter 283 – Dragon
Lucien stared into the drifting dark beyond the Obsidian Tower.

No matter how many times he ran the calculations and no matter how many paths he simulated, every conclusion ended the same way.

There was no immediate escape.

Space was too vast. His strength was insufficient. His tools were incomplete.

He exhaled slowly.

“…Thinking won’t solve this.”

So he stopped thinking.

Instead, he turned to action, clearing the tasks he had long postponed.

Lucien returned inside his Divine Energy Core.

The fractured sky there had already stabilized. The scars were faint but no longer spreading.

With a single blink, Lucien appeared before the Rainbow Slime Lord Statues, standing where they always had.

Then, Lucien reached into his inventory.

One item surfaced.

A compressed fossil wrapped in time-hardened layers of ancient power.

Dragon Progenitor Fossil.

The moment it appeared, the space around it warped subtly as if something primordial disliked being constrained by stillness.

Lucien’s breath hitched.

“…It’s the same,” he muttered. “The same resonance as the Ancient Slime Fossil.”

Not identical but related.

Where the slime fossil carried adaptability and origin, this one carried dominance, endurance, and overwhelming physical authority.

Lucien then stood before one of the Rainbow Slime Lord Statues.

Without hesitation, he raised the fossil.

A familiar prompt manifested in the air.

<Sacrifice Dragon Progenitor Fossil?>

<Yes / No>

Lucien did not pause.

“Yes.”

The fossil lifted from his palm on its own.

Hairline cracks spread across its surface, glowing faintly gold. The ancient shell resisted… then failed. With a soft shatter, the fossilized exterior collapsed inward.

What remained was not bone.

But essence.

A droplet of radiant gold hovered in the air, impossibly dense for its size. It pulsed once…

Then shot forward.

Straight into Lucien’s forehead.

The impact was immediate. His vision exploded into white.

A violent surge tore through his body. His bones rang like struck metal. His blood burned, not with heat but with pressure. His soul trembled as something ancient stamped itself into his spiritual framework.

Then—

[Ting!]

<Skill Acquired: Dragon Beast Mode>

Lucien gasped.

His eyes shone.

“…Good,” he breathed. “Finally.”

He opened its description.

***

Skill (Active/Passive): ★★★★★

Illustration: A humanoid dragon clad in black-gold scales, wings unfurled, and eyes burning with authority.

Name: Dragon Beast Mode

Description:

• Active — Temporarily assume the physical nature and instincts of a Dragon Progenitor. Greatly amplifies physical strength, durability, spatial resistance, and dominance-based skills. The transformed body can persist in hostile environments, including open space, for extended periods.

• Passive — Dragon-aligned abilities may be accessed without full transformation. Enhances resilience, presence, and pressure resistance at all times.

***

Lucien laughed softly.

“…This is it.”

This wasn’t adaptation like the Slime Beast Mode. This was survival by supremacy.

Even without activating it fully, Lucien could already feel the difference. The oppressive memory of space, vacuum crushing his organs, radiation flaying his skin… It all felt muted.

Still dangerous, but no longer absolute.

Dragon physiology was not meant to be caged within atmospheres.

It was meant to endure.

But Lucien’s expression steadied.

“No rushing.”

His divine energy reserves were still shallow. Earlier damage had drained him deeply.

Activating it recklessly in open space would only repeat his earlier mistake.

So he held back, choosing patience over impulse.

He decided to try it out here first.

He stabilized his breathing.

Then—

He stood.

“Dragon Beast Mode.”

The world answered.

Power surged outward like a continent rising from the sea.

Lucien’s form elongated. His spine cracked and reforged. His vertebrae layered into something denser. Black-gold scales erupted across his skin. Each one was edged with faint metallic sheen, overlapping with perfect structural logic.

Wings tore free from his back. It was not flesh but scale-and-bone constructs reinforced by draconic musculature. They unfurled slowly. Each movement displaced pressure within the inner realm itself.

His hands reshaped into clawed gauntlets of living armor. His face remained humanoid but sharper. His eyes burned with molten gold light, pupils slit and predatory.

Raw power rolled off him in waves.

Lucien inhaled.

The air trembled.

He felt it clearly now.

Space no longer felt like an execution ground.

It felt… hostile terrain.

Manageable.

Lucien dismissed the transformation just as smoothly as he had activated it. The power receded, folding neatly back into his core without backlash.

He nodded to himself.

“Good. Very good.”

Still—

This was not enough.

Dragon Beast Mode gave him survival.

It did not give him direction.

Lucien leaned.

“Strength first,” he murmured. “Then a way home.”

•••

The silence of space pressed in again once the thrill of power faded.

Lucien sat within the Obsidian Tower, thoughts heavy.

He could not forget the words of the two Eternals.

‘The world will not be the same.’

At the time, he had dismissed it as the arrogance of beings too powerful to care for consequences. Now, drifting alone among the stars, he found the unease returning.

“…They might be right,” he murmured.

The balance had shifted.

If the Big World would truly enter an era of upheaval, then perhaps—

This exile was not a curse. It was a reprieve.

Out here, beyond worlds and borders, trouble would not come knocking so easily. There would be no political gravity pulling him into conflicts before he was ready.

And more importantly—

No interference.

Lucien’s gaze sharpened.

“If the storm is coming,” he said quietly, “then this is the calm before it.”

He looked inward.

What he lacked was not resolve. It was force.

Not just personal strength but infrastructure.

Humans alone would never be enough. He had learned that lesson across too many lives. Civilizations built only on people were fragile. Predictable. Easy to shatter.

What he wanted was different.

A force that did not rely on titles or bloodlines. A force that could endure.

And what he had—

Were monsters.

Inside his Divine Energy Core existed an entire ecosystem of monsters.

Each of them stood just one step away from Metamorphosis.

Lucien clenched his fist slowly.

“I don’t want mere pets,” he said. “I want pillars.”

He wanted them stronger, smarter, and refined.

But the problem was obvious the moment he began planning.

Resources.

The methods he knew from the Mural World were all slow. They required vast materials and treasures.

Monsters could not use the training facility he had just created. They could not circulate energy the same way. They could not temper themselves through ordered stress like Sahrin and Khasari.

Even the idea of building a monster-exclusive facility made Lucien frown.

“It would be difficult while I’m here,” he admitted. “there are resources I don’t have.”

He could mimic the environments best suited for monster cultivation but there were too many of them.

With his Divine Energy still shallow, doing so would take time. Creating specialized environments and proper facilities for every type of monster would demand constant output.

And now that he was adrift in space, recovery itself was slower. There was no ambient mana or any form of energy to draw from.

In short—

Every step forward would have to be earned the hard way.

Lucien exhaled.

“…There has to be another way.”

And then—

He turned.

Deep within his Divine Energy Core, the abyss stirred faintly.

The Abyssal One lay coiled within layers of absolute stillness as if existence itself had learned not to disturb it.

It was not hostile. Never had been.

If anything—

He felt like it was hiding from something.

From what? Lucien did not know.

But he did know this much. It was ancient.

And it knew things no manual ever recorded.

Lucien stepped forward and stopped at a respectful distance.

“Senior,” he said calmly. “Forgive me for disturbing your rest.”

One eye opened.

The abyss regarded him in silence.

Lucien swallowed and continued.

“If I may ask,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “how do monsters grow stronger? How do they step beyond mortality?”

The eye lingered on him for a long moment.

Long enough for doubt to creep in.

Then—

The abyss spoke.

“There are countless paths,” it said. “Devouring. Slaughter. Mutation. Collapse.”

Lucien listened without interrupting.

“But you seek something else,” the Abyssal One continued. “You do not wish to break them. You wish to raise them.”

Lucien’s eyes flickered.

“Yes.”

The abyss shifted slightly.

“I will give you one answer,” it said. “The simplest. The fastest. And the only one you can employ immediately.”

Lucien leaned forward despite himself.

“Please enlighten me, Senior.”

A faint ripple passed through the darkness.

“Ancient beings,” the Abyssal One said, “are walking laws.”

Lucien’s breath caught.

“When an existence merges with a Law,” it continued, “its blood, flesh, and essence cease to be merely biological. They become carriers of authority.”

The eye fixed on Lucien.

“Blood remembers.”

Lucien felt a chill run down his spine.

“To bathe in the blood of an ancient being,” the abyss said slowly, “is to expose the body to refined law without integration. It tempers flesh, reinforces structure, and teaches instinctive obedience to higher rules.”

It paused.

“The body learns how to survive pressure beyond itself. The mind adapts to concepts it cannot yet comprehend. The soul becomes accustomed to proximity with authority.”

Lucien’s thoughts raced.

“So it’s not inheritance,” he murmured. “It’s conditioning.”

The abyss gave a faint, approving hum.

“Correct. They do not gain the Law,” it said. “They gain tolerance for it.”

Lucien’s eyes glowed.

Bathing in an Eternal’s blood would be like forcing monsters to train under a crushing environment that could not be replicated artificially.

And—

He had access to those ancient beings. Suppressed ones. Living ones.

“…I see,” Lucien said softly.

The abyss observed him.

“You already suspected this,” it said. “You merely sought confirmation.”

Lucien did not deny it.

“This path is crude,” the abyss continued. “And dangerous. Not all will endure. But those who do will shed mortality quickly.”

Then, almost as an afterthought—

“And if you can convince those beings to give their blood…”

A pause.

“Good luck.”

The abyssal eye closed.

The presence receded, sinking back into stillness as if the conversation had never happened.

Lucien stood there for a long moment.

Then—

He smiled.

“…Blood baths,” he murmured. “Of course.”

He turned, already planning.

If he could begin monster cultivation now, then he could move on to his next objective without worry.

Lucien’s jaw tightened.

“Mother,” he whispered. “Father.”

Reviving them would be his next step.

…

Out in the void, the Obsidian Tower drifted on.

And within it, a plan began to take shape.

One that would change not just Lucien’s future…

…but the balance of power itself.