Debt War God

The day I awakened, the System told me: You owe 10 billion. If you don't pay it back in 30 days, your assets will be seized by force.

I stared at the letter my adoptive father had left behind: "Don't pay it back. Just stay in debt."

Then it clicked.

In this world, debt is cultivation.

Owe 10,000, and you can take on ten thugs.

Owe 1 million, and one punch can smash through a wall.

Owe 100 million, and you can tear apart a mech with your bare hands.

Owe 10 billion, and you're a walking natural disaster.

But there's one little problem:

My awakening level is only 1%. I have mythic-level potential, but can only dish out bronze-level damage.

My creditors are lining up to collect. The first one plans to break my legs.

No problem.

With my left hand, I take out loan sharks' money to boost my combat power. With my right, I turn creditors against one another and cut off the enemy's cash flow.

Debt collectors? They become my teammates.

Big-shot bill collectors? I turn them into stepping stones.

They call me the "Debt War God."

I say I'm just good with numbers.

After all, in this game that devours people, the one who owes money is the boss.