London in 2010 was not just about the shimmer of The City or afternoon tea in Westminster. Behind the narrow alleys of troubled districts like Brixton or the dark corners of the docks, lay a world understood only by those who had been broken.
Arthur Valeska wore a dark, slightly faded hoodie. He stood before a dingy bar called The Rusty Anchor. The stench of stale beer and cheap cigarette smoke assaulted his senses. In his future life, Arthur wouldn't have dreamt of setting foot in a place like this without an escort of ten armed men. But today, he came as an ordinary man with a very specific mission.
He was looking for Hugo.
In the future, Hugo was the head of Valeska Corp's security, feared throughout Europe. He was a human shield who had saved Arthur from three assassination attempts. Hugo was the only person who had remained standing by the coffins of Elena and Leo when Arthur was too shattered to even stand upright.
But in 2010, Hugo was merely an ex-convict recently released from Belmarsh Prison, accused of grievous bodily harm while attempting to protect a woman from a street assault. In the eyes of the law, he was social debris. In Arthur's eyes, he was a diamond in the rough whose loyalty couldn't be bought with a trillion pounds.
Arthur pushed open the creaking bar door. His eyes swept the dim room. In the darkest corner, a massive man with a scar on his left temple sat alone, staring vacantly into an empty whiskey glass.
That was him. A thirty-year-old Hugo.
Arthur stepped closer and pulled out a chair opposite the man. Hugo didn't look up, but his broad shoulder muscles tensed—the instinct of a fighter always on guard.
"Your glass is empty, Hugo," Arthur's voice was calm, yet possessed an authority that a man in shabby clothes shouldn't have.
Hugo looked up slowly. His dark brown eyes radiated an immense weariness. "I don't know you, kid. Move along before you find yourself in trouble."
Arthur didn't budge. He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a stack of cash—the proceeds from yesterday's trade—and placed it on the table. About 500 pounds.
"I have a job offer. Not dirty work, but work that requires a man with strong principles," Arthur said.
Hugo let out a hollow laugh, a sound as rough as sandpaper. "Principles? You've come to the wrong man. I just got out of a cell a month ago. No one hires an 'animal' like me except the Russian mob in East London. Are you one of them?"
"I'm Arthur Valeska. And I'm no mobster. I'm the man who is going to build the wealthiest empire in this world, and I need someone who can ensure my family stays safe while I do it," Arthur leaned forward, looking Hugo dead in the eye. "I know why you were in prison. You thrashed three men because they tried to rape a girl in a park. The judge called you brutal, but I call you a misunderstood hero."
Hugo froze. He stared at Arthur with a sharper gaze. "How could you know that? My case files are supposed to be sealed."
"I have sources you couldn't imagine," Arthur replied—a truth shrouded in the mystery of the future. "Listen to me, Hugo. Out there, people see you as a monster. But if you come with me, I will give you respect, a proper home, and a real purpose. You won't be a criminal. You will be a protector."
Hugo remained silent. He had been rejected by a dozen workplaces in the last two weeks because of his criminal record. His mother in Birmingham was ill and needed medical fees. He had almost given up, nearly joining a warehouse heist crew just to survive.
"Why me?" Hugo asked hoarsely.
"Because in a world full of traitors, you are the only man I know who would die for a promise," Arthur said sincerely. He remembered how, in the future, Hugo had guarded Elena's grave every week for ten years without ever being asked.
Hugo looked at the money on the table, then at Arthur, who seemed so certain of his words. There was something in Arthur's aura—a combination of an old man's wisdom and a young man's ambition—that made Hugo feel this was no ordinary person.
"Who do I have to protect?" Hugo finally asked.
"My wife, Elena. And my son, Leo. They are my world. If anything happens to them because of your negligence, there will be nowhere for you to hide. But if you are loyal, you will be part of the Valeska family forever."
Hugo extended a large, rough hand. Arthur met it with a firm handshake.
"When do I start?"
"Now. We're going to a used car dealer. I need a secure vehicle, and I need you to make sure no one follows us."
When Arthur returned to the apartment that afternoon, he wasn't alone. Hugo stood behind him like a giant shadow.
Elena, who was hanging laundry on the tiny balcony, rushed inside, her face pale at the sight of Hugo's intimidating figure.
"Arthur! Who is he?" Elena asked, her voice trembling. She reflexively pulled Leo behind her legs.
Arthur stepped closer, his hands raised to calm his wife. "Easy, Elena. This is Hugo. He's... he's my new assistant. From now on, he'll be the one ensuring your and Leo's safety while I'm out working."
Elena stared at Hugo, who tried to offer a strained smile—one that looked somewhat terrifying because of his scar. "Assistant? Arthur, we haven't even fully paid next month's electricity bill, and now you're hiring a bodyguard?"
"The electricity was paid this afternoon, Elena. I've also cleared the rent for this building for the next six months," Arthur handed over a proof of payment slip. "I don't want you feeling unsafe in this neighborhood anymore. Hugo will look after you when you go to the market or drop Leo off."
Hugo bowed his head slightly toward Elena. "Forgive me if I startled you, ma'am. I promise I won't let a single hair on your or your son's head be touched by bad people."
Hearing such polite words from a man who looked like a street fighter, the tension in Elena's shoulders relaxed slightly, though her suspicion remained. "Arthur, where is all this money coming from? You've only been out of the house for a few hours."
"Smart investments, Elena. Like I said, trust me this time," Arthur kissed Elena's cheek softly, ignoring her bewildered expression.
That night, Arthur sat at his narrow dining table with a borrowed laptop. Beside him, Hugo stood tall by the entrance, guarding with unwavering dedication.
Arthur began typing a name: Julian Reed.
Julian was his best friend in the future, an IT genius who, in 2010, was struggling in a basement garage to create the Cloud Computing algorithm that would later be valued at billions by tech giants. In his previous life, Arthur had stolen Julian's idea and betrayed him, leading Julian to a tragic end.
This time, Julian, Arthur thought, staring at the screen. I won't steal your idea. I'll be your financier, and together, we'll shake the world.
However, as Arthur was designing his next move, his old phone vibrated. A message arrived from an unknown number.
"Arthur Valeska. I hear you came into some money today. Don't forget, your debt to Victor Thorne is due. If it's not paid by tomorrow, even your giant assistant won't be enough to protect you."
Arthur gripped his phone. Victor Thorne. The architect of all his ruin in the past. It seemed the predator had begun scenting its prey faster than he had anticipated.
Arthur turned toward Hugo. "Hugo, tomorrow might be a long day."
Hugo simply nodded, his fists tightening. "I'm ready, sir."
Arthur smiled coldly. Victor Thorne thought he was dealing with Arthur the weak gambler. He didn't know he was dealing with a man who had already seen hell and returned for vengeance.