100% DROP RATE : Why is My Inventory Always so Full? - Chapter 304

Chapter 304: Chapter 304 – Nothing
Lucien did not remain in the mine.

He let the Lithrens settle first.

Food was gathered. Watch rotations were established and the freed elders began reorganizing the flow of people.

Riri’s voice carried through the aurora-lit halls, giving structure where chaos might have returned.

Only when he was certain no immediate danger remained did Lucien rise above the mountain.

He stood at its peak and looked down upon a world that had just tasted freedom.

Victory had been won.

But safety had not.

Lucien’s eyes narrowed slightly.

They had succeeded only because the truly strong were absent.

The Celestial Realm experts who oversaw this world were gone. The Eternal Realm beings who treated planets like resources had not returned yet. That window had allowed him to move freely.

When they came back, they would notice.

They would see the silence in the mine. The missing Alloykins.

And when they did, this world would be harvested again.

Worse.

It would be erased.

Lucien exhaled.

The Lithrens had won their freedom today, but the universe did not respect such victories. Power decided fate, not justice.

His thoughts turned inward.

At first, he had planned something simple.

He would bring them with him.

His divine energy core was vast. A population like the Lithrens could be sheltered and be allowed to grow far from predatory eyes.

But the moment he examined the idea closely, it collapsed.

These people were bound to their planet.

Their bodies and their constitutions depended on this world. Remove them too far from it and they would weaken. Remove them completely and they would die.

The planet was not just home. It was their sustenance.

And there was another truth layered beneath it.

If the Lithrens vanished, the Eternals would not spare the world.

If the planet died, the Lithrens would cease to exist even if they were hidden elsewhere. Their lineage would end.

Lucien clenched his fist.

So bringing only the people was not an answer.

Then his thoughts turned to something far more audacious.

The planet itself.

His inner realm has a void vast enough to hold small celestial bodies. One or two planets would fit without strain.

For a moment, the idea tempted him.

Then reality asserted itself.

This planet was anchored.

Its position, its orbit, and its existence were bound by the Laws of the universe. As long as those Laws held it in place, it could not be uprooted and moved into a private domain.

Wrapping it was possible.

Moving it was not.

To sever a planet from the cosmic framework that defined it would require authority beyond what he currently possessed.

Lucien’s jaw tightened.

The solution existed.

But it was buried beneath layers of impossibility.

“This is troublesome,” he murmured.

For the first time since entering this world, Lucien felt something close to frustration.

Just then—

Something stirred inside him.

Lucien froze.

The sensation came from deep within his divine energy core.

He closed his eyes and sent his awareness inward.

What he saw made him stop breathing.

The slimes had changed.

His inner realm shimmered with an unfamiliar pressure.

At the center of it all, the slimes floated.

They were no longer merely powerful.

They had crossed a boundary.

Their cores burned with clarity. Their forms stabilized into something higher. The laws they touched were no longer borrowed or mimicked.

They had reached the Transcendent Realm.

Lucien’s eyes opened slowly.

‘They evolved.’

He did not hesitate.

The moment the realization struck him, the world folded inward and Lucien plunged into his divine energy core.

The inner realm welcomed him.

At its deepest center, something vast rested.

The Abyssal One.

And upon its body—

The slimes.

They bounced freely along the Abyssal One’s surface, drifting and rebounding as if gravity no longer applied to them in the same way. They moved with unmistakable joy. Their gelatinous forms shimmered with strange colors as they leapt from one abyssal ridge to another.

They were different now.

Each slime possessed a clearly defined core as if their existence had finally learned how to hold itself together.

They looked… complete.

Lucien extended his will.

Several slimes noticed at once and bounced toward him, peeling themselves away from the Abyssal One’s form with playful ease.

[Master.]

[Master.]

[We have evolved.]

Their voices did not echo through the world.

They formed directly inside his mind.

Lucien felt a rare flicker of satisfaction.

He had expected speech. The Transcendent Realm allowed thought to crystallize into expression. Still, hearing them speak so clearly felt grounding.

“Good,” Lucien said. A faint smile crossed his face.

For a brief moment, something softer surfaced.

He missed Skittles. He missed the others who had not yet reached this stage. He wanted to hear their voices too, to speak with them without barriers.

That could wait.

His focus sharpened.

“Tell me,” Lucien said calmly, “what Law have you integrated with?”

The slimes bounced happily.

[Nothing.]

[Nothing.]

[Nonexistent.]

Lucien blinked. Genuine confusion surfaced.

“No Law?” he asked. “Are you failing to articulate, or are you still adapting to structured language?”

The slimes bounced again, completely unbothered.

[Nothing.]

[Nothing.]

[Nonexistent.]

Lucien exhaled slowly.

“So it is nuance,” he muttered. “You still lack it.”

He did not scold them.

Instead, he reached into his Inventory.

A single sheet of pale, translucent paper appeared in his hand.

Harmony Vellum. It’s a paper capable of recording the movement of Laws.

He had received it after defeating Arctyx in a game of chess, back when he believed Lucien was an anomaly. As the price of that loss, Lucien had claimed Arctyx’s storage ring.

He then held the vellum out.

“Then show me,” he said evenly. “Use your Law. Just weakly.”

The slimes obeyed.

A faint pressure bled outward.

Lucien’s breath caught.

It was subtle. Almost imperceptible. Yet the instant it brushed his awareness, something fundamental recoiled.

The pressure drifted toward the Harmony Vellum.

The paper reacted.

At first, nothing appeared.

Then its surface rippled… not with symbols, but with absence.

Lines attempted to form and vanished mid-creation. Marks wrote themselves and failed, leaving gaps where existence should have been recorded.

The vellum trembled.

Lucien felt it resist.

For a heartbeat, he was certain the artifact would fail entirely. The paper bent inward, as if reality itself was unsure whether it was permitted to exist in the presence of what it was observing.

Lucien narrowed his eyes and extended a thread of divine energy to sense the Law directly.

The instant his energy made contact—

It dispersed. As if it had never existed.

Lucien winced as the backlash snapped into him.

For a brief moment, he was left speechless.

Then…

He laughed. A full, unrestrained laugh echoed across the inner world.

“So that’s it,” he said, voice bright with certainty. “You were not mistaken.”

The slimes bounced proudly.

Lucien stared at them, then at the Harmony Vellum.

The paper now bore no inscription. Instead, it held a region where existence refused to settle. A scar shaped like absence itself. Absence with intent.

Lucien’s laughter faded into a smile.

“It was written in the Records of Stillness as well,” he said calmly. “Something born of the Abyss. Something even the Primordials chose to avoid.”

He remembered its name.

“The Law of Nihility.”

Nothingness. Nonexistence.

Not destruction which still acknowledged what it erased. Not entropy which decayed what already was.

Nihility denied the premise entirely.

It did not break laws.

It invalidated them.

Lucien looked at the slimes again, now bouncing happily along the Abyssal One’s form.

“And you wield it,” he said softly.

[Proud.]

[Proud.]

[We are nothing.]

Lucien closed his eyes.

The implications unfolded rapidly.

A Law that dissolved energy on contact.

A Law that ignored structure instead of opposing it.

A Law born from the Abyss, carried by beings with no fixed form.

Slimes.

Of course it was slimes.

Lucien opened his eyes, gaze sharp with intent.

“This changes everything,” he said.

If Astrafer was bound to cosmic alignment, then Nihility was its antithesis.

If planets were anchored by universal law, then Nihility was the question those laws could not answer.

Lucien looked beyond his inner world. Toward the planet beneath the mountain. Toward the Lithrens. Toward a future that had no right to exist, yet refused to disappear.

A solution was forming.

Not an easy one, and also not a safe one.

But a real one.

Lucien smiled without restraint.

“Prepare yourselves,” he said to the slimes. “We have work to do.”