chapter 6- Meeting the inlaws

Stephen's nod was small, but his eyes were alert. Above him, a screen lit up, counting down quickly. It seemed he was the only one who could see the numbers falling away. Time was running out for him to act.

In the middle of the room, a man stepped onto the stage. It was time to open the new hotel. "We need your help," he said to the crowd. "Please, give what you can." All eyes turned to Mr. Harrington. He was famous for giving away big money, and today looked no different. Reporters and cameras crowded around him, waiting.

Mr. Harrington stood tall, soaking in the attention. "My friends," he boomed, "I believe in this place."

He paused, making sure everyone was listening. "And I will give $10 million to make it shine." The room burst into cheers, clapping filling the air.

But the hotel owner had a surprise. "Wait," he said, and the room went quiet. "We have a new friend who just gave $25 million." The crowd whispered, "Who could it be?"

Stephen, holding a glass of champagne, watched Mr. Harrington's smile fade. The envy was clear on his face.

"I'll add another $20 million," Mr. Harrington declared, trying to win back the spotlight. But deep down, he was thinking about the benefits he'd get, just like from the other places he'd helped.

Then, the hotel manager stepped up with even bigger news. "Our mystery friend has given another $300 million!" he announced. The crowd gasped. Mr. Harrington's jealousy grew. He knew he had to find a way to get a piece of this new hotel, just like he had with others before.

Stephen sipped his champagne, a small smile on his face. The countdown continued above him, but for now, he watched as Mr. Harrington's pride met its match.

Stephen's quick steps were silent, almost like a shadow moving through the room. He reached the AV control panel, his hands steady as he made small, precise adjustments. The technician was too busy soaking in the applause to notice.

The clapping slowed and Mr. Harrington's voice filled the room again. "Now, let me show you what this hotel means to me." He pointed to the screen with pride. Pictures of the building, workers smiling, families that would be helped—it all flickered across the screen.

But then, the images vanished. The screen shook with a new video, one not meant for this crowd. A younger Mr. Harrington, his face red, his words mean and loud. He didn't see the servant's hurt eyes as he shouted. The room gasped. This wasn't the man they knew.

"Get that off the screen!" Mr. Harrington's voice boomed, but it was too late. The microphone popped and his voice was lost. His face turned from red to white. He looked around, his eyes searching for someone to fix this mess.

The technicians were in a panic, pushing buttons, trying to stop the video. But Stephen had done his work too well. The video played on, showing more of Mr. Harrington's hidden side. The room was quiet, only whispers and the sound of reporters typing fast.

Stephen moved back into the crowd, his smile small but real. Just then, smartphones around the room buzzed with notifications. Guests began murmuring, showing each other their screens. News outlets had already picked up the story, with headlines blaring about Harrington’s scandalous behavior.

Mr. Lee, the family lawyer, rushed to the stage, his face pale. "Mr. Harrington," he panted, "we need to talk. Now."

Harrington's phone started ringing incessantly. He glanced at the caller ID – his biggest business partners. He answered one, his voice shaky. "Hello?"

"We need to distance ourselves from you, Harrington," the voice on the other end said bluntly. "This is bad for business."

"But—" Harrington tried to respond, but the call had already ended. More calls came in, each one a nail in the coffin of his business reputation.

The room was buzzing with activity. Reporters were firing off questions, guests were gossiping, and Mr. Harrington was at the center of it all, looking like a man who had just seen his empire crumble.

Stephen watched from the back, blending into the crowd. He saw Mr. Harrington’s face go from red with anger to white with fear. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He stepped aside, pulled it out, and saw the message flash on the screen:5G System Activation Complete

Welcome, Stephen.

Host Information:

Name: Stephen

Surname: King

Status: PecuniaZero

Points: 0.5%

Stephen's status changed to PecuniaOne. A moment later, another message popped up:$2.5 Billion Deposited to Your Account.

Stephen's smile widened. The mission was complete. He had taken down Harrington and climbed the ladder himself.He walked towards Mr. Harrington, who was still surrounded by a frantic Mr. Lee and a panicked Mrs. Harrington.

They were trying to salvage the situation, but it was clear from their faces that they knew it was over.“Mr. Harrington,” Stephen called out, his voice calm but carrying across the room.

Mr Harrington turned, his eyes filled with desperation and confusion. “Stephen,” he croaked, “what’s happening?”

Stephen stepped closer, his expression cold. “Now you know how it feels to be belittled, to have everything you’ve worked for torn apart in front of you.”

Mr. Harrington's face twisted with confusion. "What do you mean, Stephen?" he asked, his voice trembling.

Stephen chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "I mean, Mr. Harrington, that you’re finally getting what you deserve."

Mrs. Harrington, who had been watching silently, suddenly spoke up. "Stephen? Is that really you?" Her voice was filled with a mix of disbelief and recognition.

Stephen turned to her, his smile growing wider. "Yes, Mrs. Harrington. It's me. In the flesh."

Mr. Harrington's eyes widened with realization. "You... you're my son-in-law. The one we—"

"Belittled? Looked down upon? Treated like I was nothing?" Stephen finished for him, his tone sharp. "Yes, that was me."

Mrs. Harrington’s face paled. "But why are you doing this? We’re family!"

Stephen's expression turned cold. "Family? You and your husband never treated me like family. To you, I was always just the poor boy who married your daughter."

Mr. Harrington tried to regain his composure. "But Stephen, this is madness! What do you hope to achieve by ruining me?"

Stephen took a step closer, his eyes blazing. "I hope to make you feel the helplessness, the despair, that I felt every time you mocked me, belittled me, and pushed me aside. I want you to watch as everything you built crumbles, just as you tried to do with me."

Mrs. Harrington looked at her husband, then back at Stephen. "We didn’t know you felt this way. If we had known—"

"You would have done what? Treated me better?" Stephen’s voice dripped with sarcasm. "It’s too late for that now. I promise to make your lives worse than hell”