Chapter 80: The Final Audit, 1

As soon as the Chosen One heard the Dark Lord's voice, his shonen aura ignited with the subtle, oily fragrance of a marketing campaign that had received a minor budget increase. He wanted to free the princess and fly away as soon as possible.

'He's close... but he's not here yet, I can do it—!'

The golden light rippling across his armor was intense, designed specifically to satisfy the visual parameters of a mid-tier streaming service’s premium subscribers. He raised his legendary sword, the blade humming with a righteous resonance that was immediately contradicted by the weapon’s internal commentary.

"Oh, look at us, channeling the inner golden boy," the sword’s voice muttered in his mind, dripping with a fatigued irony. "Are we going for the 'Savior of the Downridden' angle today? Because let me tell you, your stance is wide open for a basic groin kick. If this script demands a heroic speech, please keep it under two sentences. My pommel is already getting a headache."

Nick ignored the steel’s structural criticism, focusing his gaze entirely on Princess Pyroetta.

She remained bound by thick, structurally sound ropes that conformed to every safety standard Kaito had personally reviewed during his morning rounds. Her red twintails trembled with a theatrical, high-magnitude desperation that defied the physical laws of standard rope tension.

"Fear not, Princess Pyroetta!" Nick shouted, his voice cracking slightly on the high register as he adjusted his stance for the optimal camera angle. "The light of righteousness shall sever these bonds! Watashi ga kita!"

The golden energy surged toward the tip of his blade, ready to unleash a standard-issue, highly inefficient wave of holy severance.

Then, the ambient temperature in the boss chamber plummeted by exactly twelve degrees Celsius.

The flickering torches lining the perimeter died simultaneously, replaced by the cold, sterile luminescence of violet fire.

Out of the deep shadows behind the central obsidian dais, a figure stepped forward, and the rhythmic sound of footsteps echoed through the cavernous space—not the metallic clinking of an adventurer’s greaves, but the heavy, deliberate thud of tailored leather and dark, enchanted silk.

Mordecai/Kaitoyama had completely abandoned his practical, low-profile electrician’s attire, and in its place was a set of Robes of the Defiled Director, a high-tier necromantic outfit he had requisitioned from the Ravenloft Holdings’ deep storage because it possessed a ninety-eight percent resistance to dust and blood stains.

The fabric was a deep, light-absorbing obsidian, trimmed with silver threads that formed shifting, geometric patterns reminiscent of an Excel spreadsheet tracking the decline of human souls. A high, structured collar framed his jawline, and a heavy cloak cascaded behind him, moving with an unnatural, cinematic weight that defied the room's actual airflow.

But it wasn’t just the wardrobe that caused the air to thicken.

Due to a new, freshly system-given administrative buff titled [Villainous Overhaul (Aesthetic)], which Kaito had accidentally triggered by standing in the boss room for more than twenty consecutive minutes, his facial symmetry had been optimized by approximately fifteen percent.

His jawline was sharp enough to cut through low-grade sheet metal, and his hair fell in a perfectly managed, dark disarray that completely bypassed the standard laws of humidity.

Most glaringly, his left eye was no longer its normal, tired blue. Both of his irises now glowed with a deep, piercing violet—the unmistakable, high-fidelity mark of an awakened Dark Lord who had maximized his corporate overhead.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Kaito slowly brought his gloved hands together, his deep, resonant bass-baritone voice slicing through the golden aura like an industrial saw through soft pine.

"I was waiting for you, Chosen One," Kaito said, again. The tone was smooth, perfectly pitched, carrying the immense theatrical weight of a man who had practiced his lines while checking the dungeon's ventilation grates. "Though I must say, your entrance was remarkably inefficient. You spent nearly four seconds on the threshold just letting your cape billow. In a real corporate environment, that level of production delay would get your department's funding slashed."

Five meters to Nick's left, Egel froze.

The massive, muscle-bound warrior woman felt her breath catch in her throat. Her [Chi Vision] had instantly activated, but this time, she used an advanced version called "[Chi Vision Overload]". (To make you understand the difference, think about the differences between a certain phone and its ultra pro max edition.)

The world turned into a monochrome grid of energy lines, and what she saw centered on the figure in black made her stomach drop into her leather boots.

That clearly wasn't the standard, red-tinted bloodlust of a normal dungeon boss; that was an endless, bottomless abyss of cold, structural calculation. A void of absolute pragmatism that devoured the light around it, completely devoid of the chaotic, sloppy emotions that normal monsters exhibited.

It was the exact same presence she had felt back at the Guild Hall. The terrifying, unyielding density hidden beneath the low-ranking adventurer Kaitoyama.

"Kaitoyama..." Egel whispered, her massive shoulders tensing as the color drained from her face. Her voice shook, a rare tremor disturbing her usually stoic demeanor. "It’s you. The abyss... It’s the exact same. You’re not a standard-issue mercenary. You’re him."

Nick’s head snapped toward her, his golden aura flickering like a faulty fluorescent bulb as his limited cognitive processing struggled to bridge the gap. "What? Kaitoyama? The guy who humiliated me and ate my magic? Egel, what are you talking about? Look at him! He’s wearing epic-grade cosmetics! There’s no way a low-tier trash-clearer could afford that kind of premium skin!"

Egel didn't even listen to his words. At that moment, she was far too busy trying to figure out whether she was angry or thrilled to have found the Dark Lord again—the only man who had awakened her masochistic instincts

Then, Nick turned back to Kaito, pointing his sword dramatically, his shonen ego desperately trying to reassert its dominance over the narrative. 'She's right. That's clearly Kaitoyama, but ultra pro max.' He thought.

"I knew it! I knew you were a traitor from the very beginning! I should've killed you right when you came into my palace!" Nick roared, his chest puffing out as he adjusted his posture to ensure his chest plate caught the reflection of the violet fire. "You sneaked into our guild operations to sabotage our metrics! Leave that innocent princess alone right now! Release her from those non-consensual narrative constraints, or I will be forced to terminate your existence with high-impact holy damage!"

The poor Fart Boy was trying his best to avoid the fight.

Kaito sighed. The sound was heavy with the profound exhaustion of a project manager dealing with a summer intern who refused to read the instruction manual.

He crossed his arms, letting the dark silk of his sleeves drape over his wrists.

"Why should I?" Kaito asked, his voice dripping with an elegant, almost clinical malice. He tilted his head slightly, the violet glow in his eyes intensifying by several lumens. "Strictly speaking, I am the antagonist of this specific structural unit. The script explicitly defines my role as 'The Obstacle.' If I were to simply untie her because you asked nicely, it would constitute a massive breach of narrative compliance. Why don't you come over here and attempt to liberate her yourself... Piollo?"

The word hit Nick with the force of an unmitigated physical strike.

The golden aura around his armor shattered with the sound of breaking glass. His eyes widened, his lips parting in utter disbelief. The word Piollo—a term of absolute, peasant-tier insignificance—had completely bypassed his high-tier mental defenses.

The Dark Lord called him as his mother did.

His entire identity as the Chosen One was built upon a fragile framework of public adoration, high survey ratings, and the unshakeable belief that he was the center of the universe.

To be called like that after being humiliated all this time, by a man who looked like he had just walked off the cover of a dark fantasy light novel, was a catastrophic blow to his psychological structural integrity.

"You... you called me... what?" Nick stammered, his face turning a deep, unappealing shade of crimson. "I am the Chosen One, bitch! I have over four million active subscribers across three different mortal realms! My merchandise sales alone fund the Holy Church’s secondary cathedral!"

"Your metrics are inflated by bot accounts, Mama Boy," Kaito replied smoothly, checking his fingernails with an air of profound boredom. "And your retention rate in the tertiary demographics has dropped by twelve percent this quarter. You’re a declining asset. Now, are you going to attack, or are you going to continue providing me with a verbal quarterly report?"

"YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!" Nick screamed, completely losing his heroic composure.

He then gripped his sword with both hands, the blade erupting into a chaotic, messy storm of golden sparks that lacked any semblance of proper energy distribution. He began to draw back for a heavy, high-tier ultimate skill—an attack that would undoubtedly require a ten-second monologue to fully charge.

Kaito didn't wait for the monologue, of course. He didn't even change his posture.

With a flick of his right wrist, Kaito executed a dual-spell sequence. A combined skill.

"[Shadow Bolt] [Poison Bolt]. Bang."

He didn't even scream the names. He just muttered them like a man ordering a black coffee at a drive-thru.

Instantly, six spheres of compressed, violet-black gravity and four jagged lances of corrosive, emerald ooze materialized in the air around him and shot forward in a straight, mathematically optimized trajectory designed to hit Nick’s exposed sternum in exactly 0.4 seconds.

"Nick, you idiot, move!" Egel roared.

Before the chaotic golden storm could leave Nick’s blade, the muscle mommy moved with the explosive speed of a heavy-duty hydraulic press. She intercepted the trajectory, her massive, scarred arms crossing in front of her face as her [Chi Fortification] erupted in a dense, solid wall of azure force.

The Shadow Bolts slammed into her defense first as she parried every single hit with a beautiful show, exploding with the heavy, metallic thud of a wrecking ball hitting reinforced concrete.

The Poison Bolts followed immediately, sizzling against her azure aura, the acidic green fluid dissolving the outer layers of her protective energy with a harsh, chemical hiss.

Egel grunted, her boots sliding back exactly three inches across the stone floor, leaving two deep grooves in the solid masonry. Her teeth were bared, her muscles straining against the sheer, concentrated density of Kaito’s magic. There was no theatrical flair to his spells—just raw, unadulterated mass and kinetic velocity.

"Don't you dare attack him yet, Nick!" Egel bellowed, her voice echoing off the walls as she held the line. She didn't look back at the hero, her sharp, beautiful blue eyes fixed entirely on Kaito. "Keep your sword down! I need to conduct an interrogation before this turns into a standard clearance operation!"

Nick, his ultimate attack completely interrupted and his breath ragged from the sudden shift in momentum, lowered his blade by a few inches.

His face was pale, the reality of Kaito’s casting speed finally penetrating his thick skull. "Egel... he... he didn't even use a verbal trigger... that’s a violation of the standard magical tournament guidelines..."

"Shut up, Piollo," Egel snapped, her aura flaring to maintain her defensive stance.

Kaito lowered his hand, the residual purple smoke dissolving around his leather glove.

Then, he looked at Egel, his expression remaining entirely neutral, though a faint, clinical amusement flickered in his violet eyes.

"A wise operational adjustment," Kaito said, his bass voice filling the silence left by the explosions. "Your defensive metrics are impressive, Egel. You utilized your bio-energy to neutralize the kinetic impact." Mordecai nodded, amused, "Because you demonstrated basic competence, I will allow you exactly one inquiry before we resume the scheduled hostilities."

Egel didn't hesitate. The strange, masochistic tension that usually dominated her interactions with powerful entities had completely vanished.

The moment she had entered the boss's room, her focus had been entirely shattered by a sound—a voice that shouldn't exist, a voice that she had spent months trying to drown out with training and violence.

She took a step forward, the azure light around her body shifting from a stable defensive shield into a jagged, erratic aura of pure, unadulterated distress and rising fury.

"That voice..." Egel said, her fists clenching so hard that her knuckles became white. "The voice we heard before we reached this chamber... It was her. It was Regel, my little sister. Where is she, Kaitoyama? Where is my sister?!"

The mention of the name seemed to tear through Egel's composure entirely as the ground beneath her boots began to groan under the sudden, immense spike in her bio-energetic output.

"Answer me! NOW!" she screamed, her voice cracking with a terrifying mixture of sisterly panic and raw rage. "Where is she?! What did you do to her?!"

The azure aura around her exploded upward, forming a towering pillar of light that cracked the ceiling blocks. The floor beneath her feet didn't just scratch—it shattered. Spiderweb fractures rippled outward from her position, chunks of stone grinding against each other as the sheer weight of her presence reduced the boss room’s structural integrity by four percent.

Despite her menacing aura, Kaitoyama simply let out a low, vibrating chuckle—a sound that was dark, hollow, and perfectly aligned with the standard auditory requirements of a Level (????) Necromancer.

"Have you ever studied the basic tenets of... necromancy, Egel?" Kaito asked. His tone was conversational, almost academic, as if he were discussing the local tax codes rather than the manipulation of the deceased.

Egel’s eyes widened to twice their normal size. The jagged azure aura around her froze mid-flicker.

The words necromancy and sister collided in her mind with the force of a catastrophic system error. The image of her soft, timid younger sister—the girl who couldn't even look an elite goblin in the eye without crying—being reduced to a shambling, fleshless thrall in service of a dark lord tore through her heart like a rusted dagger.

"Regel... no..." Egel whispered.

The terrifying, world-shaking anger suddenly gave way to a profound, hollow despair, and a single, heavy tear escaped her blue eyes, tracing a path through the stone dust on her cheek before falling onto the cracked floor. The raw, muscular warrior who had wrestled drakes and broken siege walls looked suddenly, horribly small.

"You... you monster," she growled, her voice dropping into a guttural register as she raised her fists, the azure light returning with a dark, vengeful tint. "My sister... was too pure for this world... I will tear you apart, Kaitoyama... I’ll rip the marrow from your bones. Even though... even though since that day at the Guildhall, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you... about the way you looked at me like an ant... even though I've discovered primal feelings for an entire night because of you... I will still obliterate everything you are!"

Kaito watched her prepare her final, suicidal charge. His expression remained unreadable, but his hand moved away from his spell pouch.

"You shonen characters always jump to the most dramatic, worst-case scenario conclusions without verifying the primary sources," Kaito said, his voice entirely devoid of panic. Then, he turned his head slightly toward the deep shadows behind the obsidian throne.

"Regel," Kaito called out, his tone shifting into the calm, authoritative voice of a senior supervisor addressing a trusted administrative assistant. "You can step out now. The preliminary dialogue has concluded."

For a second, there was absolute silence in the chamber. Even Piollo, who was cycling through his system to see which skills were effective against a Necromancer, moved his gaze to the darkness.

From behind the massive obsidian dais, a small, tentative figure stepped into the violet light.

It was Regel. She was holding a large, highly polished silver serving spoon—the very same one Larry had given to her in that dungeon—gripping it with both hands as if it were a sacred relic.

Her red hair was tied back in a neat, professional short ponytail, and she wore a custom-tailored dark grey tunic bearing the small embroidered logo of the [Ravenloft Holdings: Specialist in Counter-Heroics and Internal Security] on the left lapel.

She looked exactly as she had when she disappeared—timid, soft-featured, with large, timid blue eyes that blinked against the bright light of the chamber. She looked entirely alive, remarkably well-nourished, and completely devoid of the standard physical indicators of necrotic reanimation.

Egel completely froze. Her raised fists remained suspended in the air, the azure aura around her vanishing instantly, leaving nothing but a stunned, silent vacuum.

Nick, who had been completely ignoring the emotional weight of the scene while trying to decide whether to use [Holy Smite] or [Radiant Slash], finally looked up from his user interface.

His eyes blinked twice as he registered the girl’s presence. Blood drained from his face as he realized what was going to happen.

"Oh!" Nick said, his voice carrying the shallow, artificial enthusiasm of a morning television host who had just remembered a minor sponsor. "Hey! Look at that! You’re alive! Regel! Wow, that’s great! I totally thought you had been deleted from the active roster. T-This is such a beautiful family reunion, isn't it? Heheh..."

Regel didn't even look at Nick. Her large, round eyes were fixed entirely on her older sister.

In that moment, Kaito stepped back, allowing the two sisters a clear line of sight, his violet eyes observing the interaction with the cold detachment of an auditor observing a factory stress test.

"Why don't you inquire about her current level of job satisfaction, Egel?" Kaito suggested softly, his voice carrying a sharp, ironic edge. "Go ahead. Ask her if she feels appreciated here."

The beautiful muscle mommy could barely form words. Her chest heaved, her powerful frame trembling as she reached out a single, scarred hand toward her younger sister.

"Re... Regel..." Egel choked out, her voice cracking with an emotion that she had never allowed herself to show in public. "Little sis... you're... you're alive... I thought... we thought..."

"You left me to die," Regel said, her voice completely different from her usual timid tone.

The words were not shouted. They were delivered with a flat, quiet, devastating clarity that cut through the room far more effectively than any of Kaito’s high-velocity spells.

Egel stopped breathing. "What...?"

"You left me to die," Regel repeated, her grip tightening around Larry’s silver spoon until her knuckles turned white. Then, two hot streams of tears began to flow down her cheeks, catching the violet light of the room, but her voice did not shake.

It was cold—hardened by two months of isolation in the deep, unyielding dark. "You both left me to die in that dungeon. The Crypt of Putrid Whispers. Do you remember it, sister?"

"Regel, I was told—" Egel tried to speak, her face turning a ghastly shade of grey.

"I spent two months in that hell," Regel interrupted, her eyes flashing with a sudden, dark intensity that mirrored Kaito’s own gaze. "Two months hiding in the ventilation shafts, eating residual slime moss, waiting for the guild’s rescue party... but more than that, I waited for you, Egel. I kept telling myself, 'My sister is the strongest warrior in the kingdom. She’s probably breaking through the upper walls right now. She’s coming for me.' But no one came. I was left to die, alone."

She took a step forward, her small boots stepping over the cracked stones her sister had destroyed moments before.

"I wasn't saved by the Holy Church," Regel said, her voice rising as the suppressed trauma of her abandonment finally broke through her timid exterior. "I wasn't even saved by the Chosen Hero or the Royal Knights. I was saved by a skeleton. A skeleton janitor with a mop and a silver spoon. He found me starving, healed me, and brought me to Lord Mordecai. And here, they saved me and treated me like a human... but you? What were you doing, Egel?"

The muscle mommy froze. She didn't know what to say. In that moment, she just wanted to hug her little sister tightly.

Then, Regel finally turned her gaze toward Nick, her eyes filling with an absolute, unadulterated loathing that no amount of shonen editing could hide.

"You," Regel hissed, pointing the silver spoon at the hero. "After that trap, you told me that my character class was 'insufficiently marketable', and that's why you used me as bait for the monsters. And then? They told me that you said that I sacrificed myself to let everyone escape, but in reality, you abandoned me because I wasn't popular enough!"

In that moment, Nick’s artificial smile finally faltered. The chosen one had to find a proper excuse to make this a proper fight, not a 3v1.

So, he cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable, though his hand remained close to his hair as if checking his appearance for an imaginary mirror.

"Whoa, let’s keep things in perspective here, Regel," Nick said, his tone dripping with defensive, corporate gaslighting. "The Crypt of Putrid Whispers has a notoriously high operational cost. I didn't do that! I never said that! Then, I needed to do something to save ever—" Nick stopped talking, feeling a menacing aura around him.

Egel slowly turned her head toward Nick. Her jaw was set so tightly that a thin trickle of blood began to seep from her lower lip where her teeth had pierced the skin.

"Nick..." Egel whispered, her voice dangerously quiet. "Is that true? You told me that Regel had sacrificed herself to save you and that the priest managed to save her soul. We even held a funeral for her, where you promised to take care of me..."

"Egel... I..." Nick said, waving his hand dismissively.

Then, Regel let out a sharp, bitter laugh that sounded entirely out of place coming from such a small, delicate girl.

"It doesn't matter what he says anymore, Egel," Regel said. She slowly raised Larry’s silver spoon into the air, her face hardening into an expression of absolute, unyielding resolve. "Because I’m not that timid little support martial artist tank anymore. I’m not the girl who cries when her armor gets scratched."

She looked at her older sister, her eyes burning with a sudden, terrifying light.

"You always told me that in this world, only the strong have the right to dictate their terms," Regel said, her voice dropping into a rhythmic, almost mechanical tone as her hidden system parameters began to align. "You told me that if I couldn't keep up with your pace, I deserved to be left behind. Well... sister... let me show you what I learned from the love of Ravenloft Holdings. Let me show you how we clear out the trash."

Instantly, the system voice—the cold, administrative entity that Kaito so thoroughly despised—boomed through the chamber, its blue holographic text flashing across everyone’s field of vision with unprecedented brightness.

[WARNING: HIDDEN POTENTIAL UNLOCKED!]

[ENTITY: REGEL — INTERNAL RESTRAINTS REMOVED.]

[LEVEL UP!] [LEVEL UP!] [LEVEL UP!] ... [LEVEL UP!]

The notifications scrolled by so fast they formed a solid block of blue light in the center of the room. The sheer volume of raw data was staggering, the system’s processing core struggling to calculate the sudden, explosive increase in her character metrics.

[CLASS EVOLUTION CONDITIONS MET.]

[THE TIMID SURVIVOR IS READY TO AWAKEN.]

[ADMIN NOTE: THE DORMANT POWER WITHIN THIS ENTITY HAS BEEN TRIGGERED BY AN ACUTE TRAUMATIC STIMULUS AND OPTIMAL NUTRITIONAL RECOVERY (PROVIDED BY LARRY'S SOUP LOGISTICS). FULL AWAKENING WILL OCCUR IMMEDIATELY. STAND BY FOR CATASTROPHIC POWER OUTPUT.]

The small silver spoon in Regel’s hand began to glow with a blinding, white-hot intensity.

and then... Boom.

A massive, concussive wave of pressure erupted from Regel’s body. The dark grey tunic she wore tore open at the sleeves as her muscle fibers began to expand, mutating and multiplying at a terrifying, unnatural rate. Her small, fragile frame expanded outward and upward, her height increasing from five feet to six feet of pure, solid, striated muscle tissue and big boobs.

Her shoulders broadened, her back widening into a beautiful and definite, V-shaped configuration that completely eclipsed the light behind her. Her thighs and calves thickened into powerful, bone-crushing pillars of meat, her veins pulsing with a white-hot bio-energy that ran beneath her skin like liquid lightning.

She had transformed into a towering, colossal engine of physical destruction—a muscle mommy that made Egel look like a middle-management administrative assistant by comparison. The sheer, dense mass of her new form caused the air in her immediate vicinity to warp, the atmospheric pressure rising to the point where Nick’s ears audibly popped.

Regel exhaled, a long plume of white steam rushing from her lips as she looked down at her own massive, boulder-like fists. A terrifying, predatory smile spread across her face.

"Let’s see if you can keep up with my pace now, Big Sis," Regel rumbled, her voice now a deep, guttural growl that shook the very foundation of the dungeon.

Before Egel could even raise her arms into a defensive position, Regel moved.

There was no sound of footsteps—only the instantaneous explosion of the stone floor where she had been standing. Regel crossed the five-meter distance in less than a millisecond, her massive, fist-sized knuckles embedding themselves directly into Egel’s stomach.

CRACK.

The sound of Regel's impact echoed through the chamber like a thunderclap, and the sheer kinetic energy of the strike didn't just push Egel back—it launched her.

The massive warrior woman flew backward through the air, her eyes wide with absolute shock as her sister’s new form followed immediately behind her, gripping her by the face with one massive hand.

They slammed into the heavy, reinforced granite wall of the boss chamber, and the stone didn't hold.

With a catastrophic roar of tearing masonry and collapsing structural supports, both sisters blasted straight through the three-foot-thick wall, disappearing into the adjacent, unmapped sector of the dungeon amid a massive cloud of grey dust and falling debris. The sound of their ongoing, brutal combat echoed from deep within the walls—dull, heavy thuds of flesh hitting reinforced concrete, followed by the distant collapse of secondary ceiling structures.

The dust slowly began to settle in the main boss chamber.

The room was now remarkably quiet, except for the faint, pathetic whimpering of Princess Pyroetta, who was still tied up near the throne, her red twintails completely covered in grey plaster dust.

Then, Kaito slowly brushed a small piece of stone debris off his obsidian shoulder pad and looked at the massive, gaping hole in his dungeon wall, and then pulled out a small leather-bound notebook from his cloak, utilizing a silver quill to make a quick notation.

"Wall structural integrity compromised in Sector 4," Kaito muttered to himself, his deep baritone voice calm and measured. "That’s going to require at least three days of continuous labor from the goblin masonry crew to repair. Gonna report to Brenda."

Then, he closed his [SSS Ordinary Notebook] with a sharp snap and slipped it back into his robes, before turning his full, violet-eyed gaze back to the center of the room.

Nick was standing there alone. His party was watching the bad show from above. His support was gone, and his muscle mommy vanguard had just been driven through a wall by her own mutated sister.

His golden aura was entirely gone, replaced by a cold, greasy sweat that made his glorious blond hair stick to his forehead.

"Well, Sir Nick," Kaito said, his violet eyes glowing in the dim light as he stepped down from the dais, his black cloak billowing behind him like the wings of a predatory bird. "It appears your human resources department has suffered a total systemic collapse. It’s just you and me now. Let’s see how your quarterly performance metrics hold up in a direct, unmediated evaluation."

Nick swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he raised his sword against the Dark Lord.

"I WILL KILL YOU, KAITOYAMA!" Nick screamed.

And then, the Final Audit had officially begun.