The massive steel gates of the Hills Tower closed slowly behind Rudra. The air inside felt different—calmer, colder, as though it carried the weight of the countless secrets and ambitions buried in this place. The chaos outside—guards unconscious, police sirens fading away—was left behind. Now, only the sound of polished shoes clicking against marble echoed in the grand lobby.
Sam Hills walked ahead with the composure of a king returning to his palace. Rudra followed, his sharp eyes scanning everything. Crystal chandeliers hung above, tall pillars stretched like monuments, and the walls gleamed with paintings that looked older than the city itself.
Sam pressed his finger to the golden panel near the elevators. A ding echoed as the doors slid open.
"Come," Sam said simply.
Rudra stepped in, but his eyes immediately widened. The elevator panel was unlike anything he had ever seen. Instead of the usual thirty or forty buttons, the panel stretched like a miniature keyboard—each button a floor number. The digits went past one hundred, then two hundred… and kept going.
"Two hundred and… more than that?!" Rudra muttered under his breath. His fingers twitched. "This tower… how can it even have this many floors?"
Sam glanced at him and smiled faintly. "Surprised? Most people are. Hills Tower isn't just an apartment building. It's a city stacked vertically. Every level has its own purpose—residences, corporate offices, gyms, entertainment halls, private research labs… even a medical wing larger than most city hospitals."
Rudra swallowed, silently comparing this place with the small apartments he had seen all his life.
Sam pressed the button for the 178th floor. The elevator began to rise smoothly, the numbers blinking upward at a pace almost too fast to follow.
"So many rich people live here?" Rudra asked, his tone mixed with awe and suspicion.
"Of course," Sam replied. "The wealthiest families of this city, politicians, celebrities, innovators… all under one roof. But even among them, I stand higher. Few towers rival Hills Tower." His lips curved into a subtle smirk. "Though I will admit… the Capsule Corporation of Bulma's family still overshadows us in scale and influence. They are in a league of their own."
Rudra nodded slowly, his curiosity deepening. Capsule Corporation… so they really exist at this level of power too.
The elevator came to a halt with another soft ding. The doors slid open, revealing the grand 178th floor.
The corridor before Rudra was lavish, but not gaudy. The floor shone with polished marble tiles, golden lights lined the ceiling, and guards in black suits bowed respectfully as Sam walked past. Rudra followed quietly, uneasy about the sudden trust this powerful man was showing him.
Finally, they reached a spacious lounge. A young man was waiting inside, leaning casually on the sofa, sipping a glass of juice. He looked to be Rudra's age, perhaps younger, dressed in casual designer clothes. His expression was sharp, but curious.
"Jack," Sam called. "This is Rudra. He'll be staying with us."
Rudra froze. So quickly… he's introducing me to his son?
The young man—Jack Hills—stood up and approached. "This is the guy I saw on the CCTV? The one who knocked out all those guards?" He circled Rudra once, as if inspecting a rare animal. "Huh. Doesn't look like much, but I guess appearances deceive."
Rudra shifted uncomfortably. "Your guards attacked me first. I wasn't looking for a fight."
Jack smirked. "Sure. That's what they all say."
Sam raised his hand, cutting the conversation short. "Enough. Rudra, come with me. Jack, give us a moment."
Jack shrugged and returned to the sofa, though his eyes remained fixed on Rudra like a hawk.
Sam led Rudra deeper into the suite. The next room they entered made Rudra stop in his tracks.
It wasn't just a room—it was a hall. A space larger than the entire ground floor of most homes. Expensive furniture, velvet curtains, and shelves filled with books and rare artifacts gave the room a regal air.
Sam sat down at a massive desk in the center. He pulled out a sleek, leather-bound folder and placed it in front of Rudra. "Here. Read."
Rudra stepped forward and opened it. His brows furrowed as he scanned the pages.
It wasn't just a contract. It was a chain.
Clause after clause bound him to Sam Hills. He would be required to dedicate his life to him, remain available at all times, share meals according to Sam's schedule, and never disobey direct orders. The terms even went so far as to state that if Sam Hills chose to fast, Rudra would also be forbidden to eat.
"This…" Rudra muttered, his voice hardening. "You expect me to sign this? You want me to throw away my freedom and live like your shadow?"
Sam leaned back calmly, folding his hands. "Do you think strength comes free? You have extraordinary abilities, Rudra. I saw it with my own eyes. The world will not accept you easily. They will fear you, hunt you. Only with someone like me can you survive. And more than survive—you can thrive."
Rudra clenched his jaw. "But this isn't survival. This is slavery."
Sam's smile remained, but his eyes sharpened. "Perhaps. But slavery to the right master can be more rewarding than freedom in poverty."
Rudra glared at him, about to push the contract away—until Sam spoke again.
"In return, you'll have wealth. Enough to last a lifetime. Money, protection, influence. Work for me for one year… only one year… and you can walk away with more riches than most men see in ten lifetimes."
Rudra's hands froze above the paper. His mind spun.
One year… if I endure this for one year, then I can be free. Free, and rich enough to never worry again. Isn't that worth it?
He thought of his past—how every door had been shut on him, how he had fought only to survive. Wasn't this the chance he had been waiting for?
Finally, Rudra let out a slow breath. He picked up the pen.
"…One year," he whispered. And then he signed.
The sound of the pen scratching against the paper echoed louder in his mind than the chaos of battle ever had.
Sam's smile widened with satisfaction. "Good. Then let us begin."
He stood and walked toward the balcony, the city lights glittering far below. "Your first duty is simple. My son, Jack, wishes to attend a tournament. You will accompany him as his bodyguard."
Rudra blinked. "Tournament?"
"Yes. A martial arts tournament held within the city," Sam explained. "Not the World Martial Arts Tournament you may have heard of. That ended years ago. But cities like ours hold their own competitions every year. Smaller in scale, but with fierce competitors nonetheless. For many fighters, these tournaments are a chance to prove themselves before daring to enter the world stage."
Rudra's pulse quickened. A city-level martial tournament… countless strong opponents gathered in one place.
Sam continued, "The tournament is as much a festival as it is a competition. Streets around the arena will be filled with food stalls, parades, and cheering crowds. Fighters from neighboring districts will travel here just to participate. The winner may not become world-famous… but within this city, they will be treated like a legend."
Rudra could almost see it already—fighters clashing under the roar of the audience, techniques flying, the thrill of raw battle. His hands tingled with excitement.
He turned back to Sam. "Then I'll go. I'll protect your son."
But inside, Rudra's true feelings burned like fire. Finally… strong opponents. Finally, a place where I can measure myself against real fighters. This is the chance I've been waiting for.
For the first time since he entered Hills Tower, Rudra smiled.
And the city, unknowingly, prepared to welcome a storm.