Demonic Po*nstar System Chapter 700: Trapped

"Stacy Renault is dead. My son is in Association custody while waiting for formal charges of first-degree attempted murder. The Ashbound guild’s standing in the competition has been frozen, our brand partnerships are undergoing review, and three out of our six sponsors are already trying to trigger emergency clauses in their contracts." She paused. "This is our current reality."

Neither woman uttered a word.

"We will handle Stacy’s funeral arrangements with full honors. Her family will be notified through the proper channels, though they likely know already. The costs for the services, transportation, and compensation for the family will be taken care of." She straightened up. "Furthermore, my son requires substantial resources for his legal defense. Specialist attorneys. Association arbitration fees. Judicial board filing costs. Organizing character witnesses. The initial estimate is one million Chronos, and that figure will likely balloon. Legal battles function quite differently in the world of the awakened."

She cast her gaze upon them.

"Both of these expenses will be divided among every active party member."

The tent fell into a two-second silence.

"What?" Brittany’s voice was barely a whisper.

Trisha leaned forward. "We are expected to cover Ash’s legal fees? He is the one who—"

"He belongs to your party," Maeve stated, her voice quelling the objection before it could pick up speed. "And so do you. Your obligations are mutual."

"Stacy’s funeral, sure," Trisha said, her hands clenching into tight fists on her knees. "Naturally, we would assist with that. She was our comrade. But Ash landed himself in jail because his temper snapped during a live broadcast. That isn't our—"

Maeve reached into a folder resting on the table and pulled out a document. She set it down, rotated it to face them, and rested a finger on a highlighted clause at the bottom of page six.

"Section fourteen, paragraph two." Her tone remained steady. "I will read it for you. 'In the event that any active member of the designated party led by Ash Ashbound incurs loss, injury, legal proceedings, disciplinary action, or financial burden arising from or in connection with official guild operations, all remaining active party members shall contribute proportionally to the mitigation, remediation, and resolution of said burden. Each member’s contribution shall be calculated in proportion to their documented net worth at the time of assessment, including but not limited to liquid assets, equipment valuations, and outstanding compensation. Covered expenses include legal representation, arbitration fees, medical expenses, restitution, and associated costs.'"

She lifted her finger from the paper.

"You both signed this of your own free will. Stacy was a signatory as well."

Brittany stared intently at the clause. She vividly recalled signing the contract. She remembered Ash explaining it over drinks at the guild lounge, his smile warm and confident, his arm resting over their shoulders as he described what the fine print meant.

'This serves as your safety net,' he had promised. 'It means if misfortune befalls any of you, the guild and I will handle it. Your families, your medical bills, your legal defense. Proportional to net worth just means I shoulder the heavy lifting because I have the money and you don't. You will never need to stress about these things. That is the meaning of being on my team.'

The math had seemed sound back then. Ash was worth hundreds of millions simply because he was an Ashbound, an S-tier combatant backed by family wealth, private contracts, and a revenue stream that dwarfed what the three of them would make in ten years combined. His portion of any cost would have been at least ninety-five percent. The clause was meant to offer peace of mind, and it worked because the numbers only ever pointed in one direction.

Trisha leaned forward. "Screaming 'I will kill you' at a man on national television isn't a guild operation... The clause specifies 'arising from official guild operations.' It ignores your son’s personal crimes."

"The charges surfaced during an active competition deployment while under the banner of the Ashbound guild," Maeve replied. "Moving on."

Trisha attempted one more time. "Ash remains a party member. Proportional to net worth means he pays for almost all of it. He is worth twenty times more than the rest of us combined."

Maeve’s expression did not waver.

"My son has never possessed personal assets. His accounts, his armor, his revenue—all of it belongs to the Ashbound family, held under the guild’s financial umbrella. What he spent was merely an allowance. What he earned belongs to us. The guild has begun a formal review of all internal funds paid to Ash Ashbound. His allowance has been suspended, and his documented net worth at this time is zero."

The tent was deathly silent.

Brittany felt the world shifting beneath her feet.

The wealth Ash flaunted, the lifestyle, the assurances that he would carry the burden because he had hundreds of millions... none of it was ever really his. It was his mother’s money held in his mother’s accounts, provided at her whim, and the woman sitting opposite them had just shut off the flow while aiming the contract squarely at the two people left standing.

They were not broke. Six months of A-tier combat earnings, along with degrading themselves before millions of viewers, had made both of them wealthy by any standard. Monster loot at their rank paid remarkably well, with millions of dollars churning through their accounts monthly—the kind of wealth that would have left their parents in tears.

The issue was that the money vanished as quickly as it materialized.

A luxury mansion in an awakened-only residential district was necessary because A-tiers couldn't live among civilians without security protocols that exceeded the cost of rent. A vacation villa for much-needed recovery. A supercar for Brittany’s father, as paying for her parents’ silence was simpler than earning their respect. High-end artifacts the guild didn't provide—the personal gear that kept you alive in zones where standard equipment failed—were essential, and no sane awakened skimped on those when death was the alternative. Fine dining, travel, and the countless minor luxuries that come with being young, rich, and surrounded by peers who spent with the same reckless abandon.

They could choose to retire tomorrow. They could liquidate everything, sell the homes, the cars, and the artifacts, and live comfortably for generations without ever lifting a finger.

But a one-million Chronos payout was an entirely different conversation.

"You are asking us to pay for everything," Brittany whispered. "You took his access to the money away and now you’re using the contract to target us."

"I am not asking you for anything," Maeve retorted. "I am advising you of your contractual duties. Your proportional share has been calculated based on your net worth as of this assessment. Since Ash Ashbound’s net worth is zero... the remaining obligation falls onto the two active members. Five hundred thousand Chronos each. You have seventy-two hours to verify your financial contribution. Should you fail to comply, the guild will settle this matter in court."

"You’re forcing us to sell everything we own?!" Trisha exclaimed, her voice devoid of emotion. "To pay for your son’s legal defense? After he is the reason our friend is dead?"

"Even if we sold everything, we would still be in the hole!" Brittany screamed.

Maeve gathered up the documents, sliding them back into her folder.

She looked at them one last time.

"That will be all. Thank you for your time."