Mister Stone had been at it for minutes with no change. Operatives were supposed to be resolute; he understood that. But Jason was something else entirely. He sounded convincing and refused to crack, despite the torment. However, getting him to talk hadn’t been the priority; having fun was. Mister Stone pulled away, flinging his hand in disgust, and adorned his lipless smile. He then raised his iPad to Jason’s face.
Jason cringed at the blinding close-up light but blinked away the blurs in his vision to see a familiar hospital room. Then, he saw a familiar girl with a beanie who seemed to be making what looked like anniversary gifts. Jason's chest tightened, and he began to hyperventilate. That was his sister, in her Rothschild Hospital ward. They had brought his sister into this. His anguish morphed into adrenaline, and he thrashed against his restraints, shouting anything that resembled pleas. Dominic, witnessing the scene, transformed his expression from maniacal to mournful. His eyes sparkled with tears, which he brushed away with the heel of his hand. “Are you in pain, Jason?” he asked, softly. Jason was taken aback. What was with the change in attitude? Seconds earlier, Dominic had shown he intended to exploit his sister's innocence, but now he appeared remorseful. Dominic crouched before him, their eyes locking. “I truly sympathize with you, Jason Clyde. Your suffering resonates deeply with me,” he said. A dreamy look then crossed his eyes. “You see, I wasn't born this way,” he gestured to himself. “I was born out of wedlock, and unfortunately, into the powerful yet conservative Stone family. As if being a bastard wasn't bad enough; the family doctors claimed my brain was defective, and I was a psychopath.” Defensively he laughed, “Can you imagine that? Just because I didn't let morality hold me back, they called me insane. When I was perfectly fine. Anyway, after the psychiatrist's diagnosis, my grandfather , who didn't want a crazy person around, had me detained in an asylum, while my baby half-brother, the perfect child, was being groomed to become the next heir and Capone of the family's syndicate. I was abandoned there, but.” his face brightened. “Surprisingly, the place they left me to rot wasn't that bad. It actually felt like home, being close to those serial killers and people with liberation. It was nice, in its own way. But I couldn’t stay forever. I had to reclaim what was rightfully mine. So, pretending to have the flaws that hold you humans back—selflessness and all that rubbish. Plus charming a few nurses, I was acquitted.” he sighed longingly. “Do you know what I did when I got out?” He smiled. “I humbly worked as the chauffeur for my grandfather and ran minimal errands for the syndicate. For twenty-eight years, that’s all I did. I patiently reduced myself, and stayed close to the old man, waiting for the right time. When that time finally came, do you know what I did?” Dominic gestured his finger across his neck. “I liberated him, blamed it on someone else, and forged documents. Voilà, I became the heir to the Stone empire,” he faced the sky and shouted, “I had become a billionaire. I now had houses, cars, jets, yachts, and the country’s most powerful syndicate at my disposal, but,” He looked down, saddened. “It was all for naught if they didn’t acknowledge me. The Five Families served as the board of directors for criminal syndicates, and gaining their recognition—or even becoming their head—would mean total consolidation of power over the ‘Black Outfit’ syndicate and potentially the world’s criminal organizations. I begged for them to acknowledge me. But they called me a joke, a deceptive person who’d gained power through questionable means,” he quieted, but then snapped. “I killed somebody to get what I wanted—what’s deceptive about that? He was old, and I liberated him.” “Anyway, after spending billions on buying alliances and a few blackmails later, they considered my membership. But—and there's always a but—I had to secure backing from a prominent family. I picked the Rothschilds because, well, Rachel.” He blushed. “She’s so fine. Lucky you—you used to hit that. Anyway, all I had to do was marry Rachel, the most gorgeous woman in Greystone City, and then finally take a step toward all I’d waited twenty-eight years for. What could possibly go wrong?” A dark line flashed in his eyes. “You. What could possibly go wrong was you. I tasked my half-brother with discreetly eliminating the supposed pauper son-in-law. The drunkard brought along ten men, including Mister Song, but failed to land a single hit. In the end, eight of the men were killed, he was disfigured, and Mister Stone was crippled. To make matters worse, after embarrassing my syndicate, you somehow infiltrated the engagement party and punched me in front of the Five Families, shattering my chances of recognition and respect. You see, Jason, I also know pain,” he yelled. “Because you caused it!” Jason couldn't believe it. The man was insane, but worse, they had conspired to kill him. That's why Madam Regina said he'd escaped from armed men. But it was impossible for him to have single-handedly taken down eight assassins. With his malnourished physique, he wasn't capable of such a feat. Why couldn't this psychopath and delusional man understand? As if on cue, a mobster brought a vent strapped with wires and forced it onto Jason. Dominic grinned, relishing Jason’s horror-stricken facial reaction to the situation. He pulled out a remote detonator with two buttons and dropped it on Jason’s palm. Standing he said, “Why don’t we play a simple game, Jason? A game of choice.” He gestured toward the vent. “On you is a live vent with an electrocution mechanism. Push the blue button on the detonator, and a thousand volts of electricity will fire through you, liberating you. Push the red button, however”—he inched the iPad closer—“and the hospital goes kaboom. What’s it going to be? Your life over hers? Or her's over yours. Choose fast, or I might make the choice for you.”Jason’s eyes flitted at the vent, and his heart stomped against his ribcage. His eyes shifted to the iPad, where the last memories of her shone like a bittersweet beacon. If fate was less callous, both their lives would've been peaceful and uncomplicated, free from the shackles of tragedy. But it seemed that wasn't met. Just one choice, that's what it had come down to. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes, steeled himself, and pressed the blue button. Nothing happened. A loud laugh erupted. Jason's eyes snapped open to find Dominic barely standing, consumed by uncontrollable laughter. “Wait, sorry, did I say the blue button would initiate the electrocution mechanisms?” He slapped his forehead. “Silly me, I meant red.” Jason went ashen. His eyes darted to the iPad screen, and his entire being froze. The iPad's screen. It displayed. It displayed flames. Flames engulfed his sister’s hospital ward. The ground beneath him began shaking and t
ROTHSCHILD’S ESTATE. 10 minutes BEFORE EXPLOSION. Heels clacked against marble floors with a furious tempo. Rachel made her way to her mother’s study, struggling to control her anger. She slammed the door open and immediately spotted two people inside - her mother, nonchalantly pruning a pot of flowers, and the brat of a brother. “Mother!” Rachel began, her voice firm but trembling with rage. “We had a deal: I would marry Stone, and in return, you would get Jason and his sister out of the country with reasonable compensation. So why did he suddenly appear at the engagement party, claiming I thought he was dead? Did you try to have him killed?” The matriarch snubbed her. “Answer me!” Rachel screamed. The outburst caught her attention. Colton laughed. “Wait, Mother, you tried to kill the pauper?” he asked, incredulous. “You shouldn’t have gone through all that stress. Honestly, if you’d paid me a fraction of a grand, and I would have happily—” Rachel cut him off, yelling, “Shut the h
The dashboard reappeared. “Host made eight hundred million instead of a billion. Host failed to meet the threshold; penalty: 15% of life points deducted.” Despite the reminder, he remained fixated on the zeros on his phone screen. He tapped at it, suspecting a glitch, but the figures were real. He withdrew a fraction of the money, and within seconds, his wallet swelled by one-eighty million dollars. He should have been jubilant, thrilled by what initially seemed impossible, but he couldn't feel anything. Couldn’t feel happiness. He glanced at his life points and asked, “Can I utilize the talent for something else?” The system responded. “Affirmative. However, you must meet two conditions: use the talent for something significant, and do so within seventy-two hours. Otherwise, I may assign you a private mission.” He confirmed. With his talent, achieving something significant would be easy. He just needed to find the right outlet and get to civilization. **MINUTES LATER** He emerged f
Alexander slipped into a restroom and donned one of the outfits. For the first time, he saw his reflection. He had ocean-blue eyes, a symmetrical face, clear skin, rosy full lips, and a sharp, bearded jawline that perfectly complemented his now tall, lean, and muscular physique. He was beautiful. No wonder those women threw themselves at him.Acquiring some minor equipment, he left. A Rolls-Royce screeched to a halt at Greystone’s biggest hotel. Alexander elegantly stepped out, with envious eyes trailing after him as he strolled into the luxurious lobby. It smelled of lavender and was illuminated by diamond chandeliers that reflected off the diamond floors, crowded with elites. He made a mental note to buy a hotel. “I would like a suite,” he said to the receptionist. “We have the—” he cut her off. “I want the best.”From behind her glasses, her eyes scanned him, starting with the gadgets he held and moving down to his face. He passed the elite's check. She cleared her throat. “Well, t
Tires screeched to a halt. “Of all days, God, why today?” cried Jason, a common deliveryman. He's transporting a delicate, half-a-million-dollar Chinese vase sensitive to the elements, but was stuck in a gridlock at night while a rainstorm loomed overhead. If he doesn't leave traffic soon, the valuable artifact would be damaged, and he'd be ruined.Thinking, he came to a reckless decision. If he wanted to secure his livelihood, he had to drive dangerously, disregarding every safety law. Squeezing the throttle, he maneuvered through the tightly packed vehicles, using his arms to steer and his legs to push through. He progressed, creating a path but barely avoiding other cars, scratching them in the process and enraging their already furious drivers.Jason was a man with insurmountable responsibilities. Because of his lower-class background, he faced more drawbacks than advantages, so he would rather risk physical harm than flounder through this life-changing order. Besides, the fragile
‘EXTERNAL THREAT DETECTED. SYSTEM SUSPENDING RESURRECTION OF HOST,’ the voice notified, using nanoseconds to react to Henry's attacks. It continued, ‘COMMENCING PROTECTION BYPASS. DONE. SCANNING FOR THIS WORLD'S BEST PROTECTIVE TALENTS. MARTIAL ARTS INFERRED. HARNESSING THE TALENTS OF THE WORLD'S BEST MARTIAL ARTISTS: IP MAN'S WING CHUN, BRUCE LEE'S JEET KUNE DO, MIKE TYSON'S HEAVYWEIGHT BOXING, MASTER CHOI'S TAEKWONDO. ALL TALENTS HARNESSED. COMMENCING FULL CONTROL OF HOST'S BODY.’Thereafter, energy coursed through Jason's veins like bolts of electricity, causing his body to twitch. His left arm, once still and silent, abruptly jerked back to life, grabbing Henry 's gun and pushing its barrel upward, changing the direction of the bullet before the shooter could react. The bullet, hot and piercing, blazed out with a resounding bang, grazing Henry 's face and taking some of his flesh. He stumbled, falling backwards. ‘What just happened?’ while his pain-filled grunts ricocheted over th
The cold metal back of an AK-47 smacked into Jason, sending him stumbling into a puddle of dirty water. “Shut up and get lost,” a voice thundered, reeking of impatience. The destitute man didn't seem to be giving up, and the guards - dressed in dark overcoats, adorned with skull badges, and armed with machine guns - stepped out, their faces a murderous countenance as they trained their loaded guns on him. One scoffed, “You, a commoner, married to Miss Rachel for two years? How laughable. It's best you disappear before you lose your legs, delivery boy.”Jason raised his hands in fear. “Don't shoot. I'm telling the truth. Okay, let's try this: call Madam Regina and let her know it's me. She knows who I am and will let me talk to Rachel .” The men didn't budge, but Jason remained steadfast, though terrified. He knew that getting into the estate was the only way to contact his wife and clarify the misunderstanding, thereby saving his sister. It was now or never.His eyes trailed behind th
No, no, no. He refused to believe it. It wasn’t her fault. Yes, it wasn’t her fault. Rachel was going through with this because she believed he had passed. If he could prove otherwise, she would jump back into his arms, and everything would be back to normal. Blinking back tears, the newfound motivation bolstered Jason as he sprinted away from the cheering crowd, bumping into many, determined to get his beloved wife back.“Rachel!” Jason screamed. The distance between them was still too great for her to hear. He closed the gap and tried again, this time with all the breath in his lungs. “Rachel, it’s me, Jason! Don’t go through with the engagement! I’m not dead.” It worked. She heard him, but so did everyone else. The volume of his words had drawn the attention of all the guests, bringing the once festive atmosphere to an awkward silence.Rachel pivoted, her eyes bulging in terror at the sight of Jason. She wasn't the only one taken aback—Dominic Stone was equally stunned but managed