Host: Nicholas Brown
Age: 28
Status: Active
Background: Heir to the Brown Family's billion-dollar assets
Family: Sister — Neveah (critical condition)
SYSTEM MODES ACTIVE:
Secret Archive Access (SSA)
ATTRIBUTES
Strength: 12/100
Intelligence: 77/100
Resolve: 60/100
The translucent interface hovered before Nicholas' eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light of the master suite.
The golden mark on his hand pulsed once. Then again.
Suddenly, a sharp heat burned beneath his skin.
Nicholas flinched.
The teardrop-shaped tattoo on the back of his hand began to shimmer. The faint golden outline thickened, darkened, then solidified.
Coming alive just as it had at the entrance of the bureau.
And then, two tiny indentations formed into eyes.
Nicholas froze.
The small golden teardrop now had two fully formed eyes staring directly at him without blinking or moving.
A tiny voice echoed in his mind, clear and distinctly irritated.
[Host, now that you're rich, you think you have gotten an even better backer, huh?]
Nicholas' expression stiffened.
[You still cannot be richer than I am.]
He stared at the strange entity on his hand, momentarily stunned. This was the first time he had consciously taken a close look at it.
The tiny eyes narrowed.
[If I had not chosen to help you defy your tragic fate, do you think you would have been found by them?]
Nicholas felt amused.
[Do you think the Brown Family's men would have arrived at the hospital at that exact moment without my interference?]
[How dare you be ungrateful and assume they are a better backer than I am?]
The golden teardrop glowed faintly, almost indignantly.
[Everything you have now, your return, your power, your awakening, exists because I chose you. Everyone else thought you were too weak. Is that clear?]
"Mhn… why does that tone sound familiar?" He squinted slightly.
"You're jealous," he chuckled.
The teardrop twitched.
[Incorrect.]
Nicholas' lips curved faintly.
"You don't have to worry. It's not like you're being replaced."
[I am not replaceable.]
Nicholas leaned back against the glass, studying it thoughtfully.
"You intervened at the hospital?"
[Minor adjustments were made.]
His gaze sharpened.
"Mhn. I knew it wasn't a coincidence."
[There is no such thing as coincidence once I become involved.]
"You altered fate just for me?"
[Correction: I redirected probability. Who do you think you are for me to alter fate for you? How shameless.]
Nicholas chuckled lightly.
"I'm the host, I suppose. You must actually be benefiting from this somehow, aren't you?"
[Nonsense assumptions. Do not presume I care about you. I will leave you to your doomed fate if you dare to misstep.]
Nicholas stared at the tiny golden eyes for a long moment.
Then he exhaled softly.
"I never said the Browns were a better backer."
[You did.]
"I simply said I now have one. A human backer."
He paused briefly.
"Alright. I already owe you my entire life and my sister's as well. I'm not ungrateful."
The golden eyes blinked once.
[Clarification accepted.]
The tattoo slowly flattened. The eyes faded. The surface returned to a smooth, glowing mark etched into his skin.
But before fully settling, one final message appeared before him.
[Reminder: Wealth does not equal supremacy.]
[Your current Strength attribute remains 12/100.]
[Do not become arrogant prematurely.]
The interface flickered.
Nicholas stared at the updated attribute panel hovering faintly in his vision.
His lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile.
"What a petty little thing."
****
The next morning, Nicholas arrived at the hospital before the sun had fully risen.
The corridor outside the intensive care unit was quiet, guarded discreetly by men in black suits.
Alfred walked half a step behind, silent as always.
The surgery had been completed hours earlier.
Nicholas stepped into the private recovery ward.
Neveah lay peacefully on the hospital bed.
Several tubes were connected to her arms. A ventilator line rested gently beneath her nose. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor filled the sterile room.
Her face, though pale, no longer carried the strained tightness from before. She looked calm.
Nicholas stood beside her bed.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
His fingers hovered slightly above her hand but did not touch.
A voice interrupted the silence.
"The surgery was successful."
Nicholas turned.
A middle-aged foreign doctor stood near the foot of the bed, dressed in a pristine white coat. His posture was confident yet respectful.
"Greetings. I was flown in immediately after reviewing the case," the doctor continued. "There were complications, but we managed to address all internal bleeding and neural pressure."
Nicholas' gaze sharpened.
"How long until full recovery?"
"With proper rehabilitation and continuous advanced care," the doctor replied calmly, "three months at the earliest. Six months at most."
He adjusted his glasses slightly.
"She will recover fully, provided she remains under appropriate medical supervision."
The golden mark on Nicholas' hand tingled faintly.
[Notable individual detected.]
[Would you like to activate Secret Archive Access?]
"Yes."
The world dimmed slightly.
Data flooded his vision.
TARGET: Dr. Elias Vaughn
Global Ranking: Top 0.03% in neurological trauma surgery
Integrity Index: 92%
Statement Accuracy: 98.7% probability true
Recommendation: Suitable for continued supervision of Subject Neveah Brown
Nicholas' eyes softened almost imperceptibly.
"Very well," he said.
He turned to Alfred.
"Arrange for her transfer overseas once her vitals stabilize sufficiently for travel."
Alfred nodded immediately.
"The private medical facility is prepared. All necessary equipment has already been transported."
Nicholas picked up the documents handed to him and signed without hesitation.
He glanced at Neveah one last time.
"Recover well," he murmured quietly.
Then he turned and walked out of the room.
The guards fell into formation behind him as he moved down the corridor. Even hospital staff instinctively stepped aside.
Just as he approached the main lobby, a commotion erupted near the entrance.
Two officers were dragging a man in a disheveled suit across the polished floor. His hair was messy, his face pale with panic.
Dr. Henry Harrison.
Nicholas slowed.
Henry struggled weakly. "You can't do this! I didn't… I don't know anything! These are all false claims and charges."
Then his eyes lifted. They locked onto Nicholas. Pure, unfiltered terror flashed across them.
Henry's lips trembled. His body went rigid.
"N-No… you…"
His face drained of all color. Thud. He fainted.
The officers barely managed to keep him from hitting the ground as they continued dragging him out.
Nicholas watched without expression.
Alfred spoke quietly. "The evidence went viral at dawn."
Nicholas resumed walking.
As he passed the reception desk, his steps slowed.
The female attendant who had previously dismissed him, the same one who had looked at him with contempt when he had begged for better treatment for Neveah and when he had requested to meet Dr. Harrison, and who had called him a peasant and a beggar, stood frozen behind the counter.
Her face was white as paper.
Nicholas' gaze lingered on her for exactly two seconds.
Then he turned slightly to Alfred.
"Find a way to replace her immediately. Better still, make her unable to secure any job in the city."
The words were calm and devoid of any warmth.
The attendant's mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"Please, I had no idea who you are. Forgive me, I beg…"
Her knees buckled. Thud. She fainted on the spot.
Nicholas did not look back.
As he stepped outside, the morning sunlight cast a long shadow behind him.
The era of begging was over.
Now…
Others would kneel, and those who took him down shall pay.
"Master, I found the best tailor in the country to sew you a custom suit for tonight's banquet. If you do not mind, I will send for his presence this instant."
"Sure."
Nicholas did not care much.
"About what you ordered on the Lancaster Family, everything is ready. However, I found out something else that you might be interested in…"