Days passed peacefully after I settled into the Valen mansion. Every morning, I joined my family at breakfast, listening to my sisters talk about their work and my parents discuss charity programmes and company projects. To anyone watching, I looked like a normal ten-year-old boy blessed with a good family and a bright future.
But deep inside me, I knew peace never lasted.
In my past life as Aron Tuner, I had learnt that the world's brightest light always attracted the darkest shadows. The Valens were powerful, too perfect, too influential. That kind of family didn't exist without enemies growing quietly in the dark corners of the world.
And this time, I wouldn't wait until tragedy struck again.
So, each night, after everyone fell asleep, I began my secret routine.
The clock struck midnight when I opened the hidden connection to my Supreme Space. A faint glow rose from the mark on my palm, and the real world around me blurred.
Moments later, I stood once again in the vast domain that belonged only to me.
The quiet field stretched into eternity—the castle towering proudly in the centre, rivers of magical water glowing gently in the moonlight. The air felt cleaner than any place in the real world.
Here, I wasn't the ten-year-old boy, Bruce Valen.
Here, I was Aron Tuner, the man who once ruled the underworld.
"System," I called softly. "Begin personal training mode."
Immediately, radiant squares of light formed across the grass, and countless weapons materialised—swords, learnt guns, spears, daggers, and even mechanically enhanced gauntlets. Each one hummed faintly, waiting to be chosen.
My mind recalled the skills of my past. The muscle memory remained even though the body was younger. But this world was fairer than my old one. Power here was not just physical; it was spiritual, a balance between mind and body.
I started small—simple punches, stances, precise movements. The boy's frame struggled at first, but my experience guided every motion. My breathing became steady and calm. My fists grew stronger.
After an hour, I pushed further. Guns and swords appeared in my hands one after another. Targets popped up automatically in mid-air. Each time I struck, the golden sparks scattered like sunlight reflecting in fog.
My new body adapted quickly, faster than any human should. The magical water I had used to heal my leg must have strengthened my cells. Within days of training nightly, I could already move with the same power I once commanded as a grown man.
One evening, I walked to the edge of the river and stared at my reflection glowing on the surface.
"I lost one family before," I whispered. "I won't lose another."
[Training Efficiency: 230% of human limit. Physical recovery: Optimal. Mental focus: Enhanced.]
The voice of the system echoed calmly.
But strength alone wasn't enough. In my old life, empires weren't built only with muscle—they were built with knowledge, planning, and the ability to stay invisible until the right moment.
"System, open Economic Simulation Grid," I commanded.
Above the river, light spread again, showing holographic images of global trade systems, black markets, and investment channels. I still remember the codes of stock algorithms, business tactics, underground trade networks, and even the weaknesses of criminal organisations materialised—swords that once bowed to me.
I tapped the air, bringing up old data simulations. "Let's start small this time," I murmured. "Slow. Silent. Like a shadow."
[Command accepted. Infrastructure blueprint initialised.]
The castle's surroundings began shifting. Mechanical sounds echoed in the distance as tall towers started rising in rows—factories, labs, and research buildings created from pure data and energy.
[All facilities are fully automated. Resource allocation is balanced. Estimated production output: Stable.]
"Good."
I walked inside the nearest factory. Machines moved like living metal, building tools, weapons, and energy cells. Robots handled resources, while energy lines pulsed through the ground below.
A small smile crossed my lips.
Aron Turner's facilities are an underworld empire that had taken years to build.
Bruce Valen's shadow empire would only take days.
But this time, my goal wasn't domination—it was protection.
Night after night, I trained and worked silently. In the real world, I was a cheerful, healing boy surrounded by love. In the shadows, I was rebuilding the skills of a king.
The days became a rhythm.
Morning—breakfast with family.
Daytime—study and therapy sessions.
Evening—reading.
Midnight—Supreme Space.
Each time I entered that world, my castle grew stronger, my weapons sharper, andTurner's my systems faster. I created new programmes—surveillancesharper, and networks, hidden communication links, andprogrammes—surveillance drones that could travel undetected when summoned to the real world.
I even crafted a series of defensive armour links, shaped like thin bracelets—small enough to hide under sleeves, yet powerful enough to block bullets or curses.
Every tool I produced was designed for one purpose—shielding the Valens from whatever awaited them in the dark.
A week later, standing on the castle's highest balcony, I surveyed everything I'd built so far. The moonlight painted the towers silver, and the wind danced through the trees that surrounded the farms. In the distance, endless rows of vehicles waited silently, gleaming faintly in the light.
It was more than I'd dreamed possible.
Master, production line Alpha is complete. Would you like to begin storage synchronisation with reality?]
"Yes," I answered quietly.
[Synchronisation in progress. Small-scale storage access granted.]
When I returned to the real world, the mark on my palm shimmered faintly. I raised my hand, focusing on the image of a simple dagger I'd built.
Light swirled—and the dagger appeared in my hand.
Not a dream. Not an illusion. Reality.
I touched its surface, feeling the cold steel. Then I closed my fist, and the weapon vanished back into the space.
A slow, calm smile crept across my face. "It's beginning."
From that night onwards, I expanded my empire both inside and outside the space. Using hidden pathways on the internet, I quietly revived old accounts, recreated shadow networks, and began moving money across forgotten systems.
I didn't need people to fear me this time. I needed them to owe me.
A single invisible transaction here, a quiet debt there. Anonymous donations to orphanages under fake company names, discreet funding of research labs, and rebuilding cyber connections that used to operate under my old name—The Ghost King.
Step by step, I rebuilt my web.
No one noticed. No one could. Because I had learnt long ago that true power wasn't loud. It was unseen until it was unavoidable.
Sometimes, when I finished my midnight rituals, I returned to my bed before dawn, looking out the window toward the faint outline of the Valen mansion garden.
From one of the windows across the yard, I could see faint light—Aria's training room, probably. She never slept early.
Somewhere beyond that, a faint melody floated through the air—Clara playing the piano softly while she worked. Eve's shadow crossed the balcony once before disappearing again, silent as always.
I closed my eyes and whispered, "I'll keep you all safe. Even if it means I walk in shadow forever."
The moonlight fell across my face. It was cold and beautiful—the same way power felt in my hands.
But this time, I wouldn't use it to destroy.
This time, it would be my shield.
Because I was no longer just Aron Turner, the Underworld King.
I was Bruce Valen, son, brother, and protector.
And in the silence of midnight, under the silver glow of the moon, a new empire was born—hidden from the world, limitless, and loyal to one heart.
Mine.