He turned to face the system screen again, as if daring it to show him more.
But nothing.
It was blank now, silent.
Yet the last words burned in his mind like they had been carved there with a hot blade.
"This world is a board. Those families are the players. The rest are pieces."
A bitter laugh escaped his mouth, dry and cracked. "Guess that makes me… a piece that just learned it can move."
The humor faded quickly. He sank back into the chair, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His breathing was slow but heavy, as if every inhale carried weight. Then, almost involuntarily, he muttered, "Fifty million? I would've traded ten times that for this."
On the coffee table, a crystal bowl of fruit sat perfectly arranged. Grapes at the center, apples circling them like a crown. An arrangement straight out of a Renaissance painting… subtle, regal, almost ceremonial.
