Here Comes Almighty Desmond Ice

Everything belongs to you!

After an hour-long drive, the car finally pulled to a stop outside an estate. Desmond, feeling confused, turned to the driver.

“Why did you stop?” he asked, wondering if the car had run out of fuel or broken down.

“We’re at the address. I can’t go any further, sorry,” the driver replied.

“But–” Desmond glanced around, wanting to ask more questions but decided against it. He stepped out of the car.

The estate was eerily quiet, the air thick with an unsettling stillness. Desmond could only admire the surroundings before remaining rooted to the spot.

After standing there for a while, he began to walk towards the large green gate, but his steps faltered as security guards—or were they soldiers?—stood at the gate. Desmond blinked in confusion.

He started to wonder if he had come to the wrong address. If this was the right place, why were soldiers guarding it?

“Excuse me, is there a way to get inside?” he asked cautiously.

The soldiers immediately turned their attention to him. Though calm, their stern presence made Desmond shiver.

Had he not been credited $150 million, he would have left the moment he saw the soldiers.

“Who are you? Where’s your invitation card?” one of them asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Invitation card?” Desmond was baffled. The man hadn’t given him any card.

The soldiers noticed his confusion and pressed him further. “You don’t have one?”

He shook his head.

“Your name?”

“Desmond Ice,” he answered, unsure if his name alone would be enough.

He sighed and was about to leave when the soldiers suddenly stopped him, their eyes lighting up with excitement and curiosity.

"You're Desmond?" they asked, surprised.

"Mm," Desmond nodded.

"Oh wow, hurry inside! We were specifically told to welcome you," one of them said with enthusiasm.

Desmond, taken aback by their curious looks, said nothing as the large gate swung open for him. He stepped inside and immediately noticed a black jeep with a driver dressed in military attire.

"Please, get in," the driver instructed.

Desmond nodded and climbed into the vehicle, accompanied by two soldiers. As the car moved through the estate, he gazed out the window. The atmosphere felt strict, and the entire estate screamed power and a sense of old-world elegance.

Despite the large display of wealth, the air of sternness and seriousness was obvious. Desmond remained silent, pushing down the rising fear of being kidnapped. He was already inside, and even if he wanted to leave, there was no turning back now.

After what felt like an endless thirty-two minutes, the car finally stopped. As soon as he stepped out, he was greeted by the sight of a broad, understated yet luxurious mansion.

A shiver of excitement and curiosity ran through him as he imagined what the inside might be like. Upon entering, Desmond couldn’t help but gasp.

Everything screamed luxury—from the polished tiles to the luxurious furnishings. The walls were lined with military photographs, leaving Desmond to wonder about the identity of the person he was about to meet. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on a group of people—no, not just one person.

"One, two, four...," he counted silently. There were more than six people seated in the living room.

Desmond was stunned. He didn’t need anyone to tell him these people were far from ordinary.

"Hey! Desmond’s here!" a loud, cheerful voice rang out, drawing his attention.

A tall, slender girl with a beautiful, inquisitive face stood up, smiling brightly at him.

"You know me?" he asked, surprised.

The girl laughed at his question. "Of course, I know you. Who doesn't know you in this house?"

"Really?" Desmond was unsure how to respond.

The girl nodded and introduced herself. "I'm Rebecca."

"Oh, Rebecca," Desmond echoed, still processing the situation.

He glanced at the others, noticing that they too were watching him with curious eyes. Though there was no hostility, Desmond couldn't shake his anxiousness.

Turning to the two soldiers who had accompanied him, he asked, "You know my name, so you must also know who I'm supposed to meet here, right?"

"Yes," one of them replied, pointing to an elderly man nearby. "You just need to follow Butler Yaxley upstairs."

"Good day, please follow me," Yaxley said respectfully.

Desmond assumed they'd take the stairs, but to his surprise, they entered a lift instead. He was caught off guard but chose not to show it.

The lift ascended to the third floor, and when they reached a particular room, Butler Yaxley knocked on the door.

"Come in," a powerful voice boomed from inside, causing Desmond to freeze momentarily.

He glanced at the butler. "You're not coming in?"

"No, I'll head back downstairs. You may go in," butler Yaxley replied, stepping aside.

Before Desmond could stop him, the old man had already hurried downstairs, leaving him alone.

"Come in," the voice from inside called again, leaving Desmond with no choice but to step inside.

Upon entering, he was taken aback by the sheer size of the room—it was larger than most living rooms he had ever seen.

After scanning the entire space, his gaze finally settled on the bed, where an elderly man was seated.

Despite his age, the man appeared anything but frail. The only word that came to Desmond’s mind was powerful.

Beside the old man was another man. 

“You are here already.” The man smiled and sat up straight upon seeing Desmond.

"Good day, sir," Desmond greeted, dipping his head slightly in respect to the old man's commanding presence.

"How have you been, Desmond? You've certainly gained some weight and even more handsomeness," the old man chuckled, his wrinkled face creasing with amusement.

Desmond frowned, confusion written on his face. "Excuse me, sir? I don’t think I know you, but it seems like you know me."

The old man let out a hearty laugh. "Oh, I definitely know you, even if you don't know me."

"Really?" Desmond furrowed his brows, trying to recall if they'd ever met.

The old man turned to the younger man beside him. "You may leave now."

"Yes, sir," the man responded before walking away.

Desmond watched him leave before turning back to the old man. "How do you know me, sir?"

"Take a seat first," the old man gestured to a nearby chair. Desmond sat down, still perplexed.

Once Desmond was settled, the old man gazed at him intently. "I can’t express how happy I am to see you after so many years. I thought I’d never find you, but recently, my men located you."

Desmond's confusion deepened, but he remained silent, allowing the man to continue.

"If only you knew how much it has weighed on me since we met, you’d have embraced me right away," the old man added, his voice tinged with a sad smile.

Desmond found his expression amusing but couldn't laugh. His curiosity kept him focused.

After the old man finished speaking, Desmond finally asked, "Could you please tell me who you are? I don’t understand why you’re so happy to see me when I can’t recall ever meeting you. Even the people downstairs didn't look familiar."

The old man sighed deeply before speaking. "I’m the old man you and your father saved many years ago."

Desmond remained puzzled. "Are you sure, sir? I don’t remember saving anyone."

The old man smiled, as if expecting this response. "Just as I thought. You’ve forgotten, but I could never forget."

"Do you remember visiting Biol Mountain with your father?" the old man asked.

Desmond was about to shake his head, but then a memory came into his head. "Oh yes, I think I was 13 at the time."

Though he replied, Desmond still couldn’t see how this related to the man in front of him.

"At that time, I was also visiting Biol Mountain, just like you and your father," the old man said, his tone filled with nostalgia.

"Really?"

"Yes. Do you remember the stern old man?"

"Yes," Desmond responded quickly.

"I’m that stern old man," the old man revealed, and Desmond nearly choked in shock.

"You’re the stern old man?" he gasped.

The old man nodded, and in that moment, everything clicked for Desmond. He swallowed in surprise.

Back when they were at Biol Mountain, Desmond, his father, and some other visitors had gone out of the mountains without any guards. That was when they encountered assassins who had been targeting the stern old man.

Everyone fled in fear of catching the attention of those assassins, even Desmond's father wanted to escape with him. But Desmond couldn’t allow that. He had already formed a friendship with the stern old man and didn’t want anything to happen to him.

To his surprise, the old man faced the assassins head-on. During his final battle with the last assassin, he was stabbed and left on the brink of death, though he still managed to take down his opponent.

It was Desmond and his father who stopped the bleeding and kept him alive until the ambulance arrived. However, since that day, Desmond hadn’t seen him and had no idea about his condition.

Who would have thought Desmond would meet him again?

“It’s you?” Desmond gasped.

The old man let out a hearty laugh, pleased that Desmond recognized him. “Yes, it’s me.”

Desmond was still in shock. Had this old man been searching for him all this time?

“Desmond, I know all about your struggles—your father’s passing, and how hard things have been for you. I know everything.”

“From today, your suffering ends. From now on, everything I own will be yours. You will take over from me.”