Last Updated:
2024-10-29 19:42:56
CypborgOkay, we go back to the City M again... see you there in the next chapter.
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The Fool's Gold Run, Ashley, run!
"Run, Ashley, run! Don't look back, just keep running!" she told herself, her breath coming out in heavy gasps as she tried to push herself faster and faster. Her eyes focused straight ahead, her arms pumping as she ran, but in spite of her efforts, she felt as if she wasn't moving fast enough. The thought that the men were gaining on her made her heart sink, and her fear began to rise.Her heart sank further as she glanced over her shoulder, only to see that the men were indeed closing in on her, their silhouettes coming into view. "Shoot!" Ashley cursed under her breath, trying to summon the last of her energy to move faster.Just then, she turned back to look forward, but it was too late. She collided with someone, her head hitting hard against their chest. "Oof!" Ashley grunted as she stumbled backward, her mind spinning with confusion, yet still scared.Despite her fear and confusion, Ashley's adrenaline-fueled instincts kicked in. In an instant, she saw an opportunity to use th
The Fool's Gold Tiana: My Wedding Is Coming Up Soon (1)
“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” Ashley yelled, her voice echoing in her very own ears, with a horrified gasp like a drumroll of fear. The truck hit Sultan with a powerful force, seeming to knock him off the road in an instant. Ashley watched in horror, her breath caught in her throat, until a passing car obstructed her view. When the car moved on, there was no sign of the man, no body, no blood—nothing to show that the terrifying event had even occurred.“Huh? Wait, where is he?” Confusion washed over Ashley, as her eyes darted back and forth, searching for any sign of the man or the blood she’d expected to find.She peered more closely at the spot where Sultan had been hit, pacing back and forth, examining the road, and then leaning forward to inspect the area for any clues, desperate to find some explanation for what had just happened. “This can’t be right,” she whispered, questioning her own sanity. “Maybe he…. But how?” she wondered speechlessly, her voice trembling with unc
The Fool's Gold This Is The Beginning Of The End
“Come on, son. Are you sure you’re strong enough to keep working these long hours, from 7am to 9pm?” Mrs. Watson asked, concern etched across her face.“I’m fine, Mom, I’ll be fine,” Sultan insisted, doing his best to hide the strain he was feeling.“At least have some breakfast before you go,” she insisted.“No, Mom,” Emmett replied, forcing a smile. “I’m Emmett Watson, and I’ve got this.”“We sure raised a workaholic son. Sometimes I really wonder if you truly are our Emmett,” his father chimed in with a shake of his head, though having nothing but sincerity in his tone.Sultan's smile faltered for a moment. “I’m still your son, Dad,” he said, his voice just a bit smaller than before. The reminder of who he really was, making him a little uncomfortable.Mr. Watson's expression softened, and he reached out to place a hand on Sultan's shoulder. “I know that, son,” he said, his tone gentle.“You should at least let the maid bring you some lunch later,” Mrs. Watson interjected, her voice
The Fool's Gold It Was Almost Effortless
“Are you sure, Young Master Watson?” a voice called out, making the crowd turn to see Martello stepping forward again.Sultan's eyebrow arched, his expression teetering on the brink of scornful amusement. “I am sure of what I say,” he replied, his tone laced with growing irritation. “I am not a child who would speak of things he does not know, or tell lies.”“How can we be sure you’re not being naive this time?” Martello questioned, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “After all, you were once a gullible young man, and now, all of a sudden, you’ve changed.”Sultan's hand tightened around the microphone, the metal cool and solid under his fingertips. “I assure you,” he said, his voice icy and controlled, “we have never met, and I have no idea why you seem to have a grudge against me.”“However,” Sultan continued, “I do have evidence to back up my claims, if you are so doubtful.”Martello’s eyes widened, his face contorting in a mixture of surprise and disdain. “You think a few forged docu
The Fool's Gold Taking Over Was A Battle
(In the Car) Sultan stared out of the car window, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as they sped towards his Master Watson's office. Lugard sat in the front seat, silent and watchful. ‘This is my chance to make sure equality is served out like a dish to the average citizens. I wouldn't just help myself, I'd help my kind,’ Sultan thought, his mind racing with memories of what he has been through being poor. Now, taking over his now given father’s company was not just a duty—it was a battle he had to win. Not just a battle for him, Sultan, but also a battle for Emmett Watson! When they arrived, Lugard led Sultan through a hidden back entrance. The corridors were dimly lit, but Sultan knew every corner of the building somehow. “Ah, yes! I had a dream last night that I had spent countless hours here, learning the ropes of the family business under everyone's watchful stern gazes, hmph!” They reached the boardroom, where the meeting was already in progress. Sultan t
The Fool's Gold Saved By... A Coin?
He collapsed to the ground, seeing the man disappearing into the shadows.Lugard rushed in, his face a mask of horror and panic. "Young Master! Hang on!"People began to gather around the scene, their shocked murmurs growing louder."Did you hear that? Someone just shot Emmett Watson!""Wasn't he supposed to take over the company? This is insane!""He just came out of rehab, didn't he? Maybe this is related to that."Within moments, the alley was crowded with onlookers, and soon the flashing lights of cameras and the buzz of reporters filled the air."Emmett Watson has been shot!" a reporter shouted into his microphone, the live broadcast capturing the chaos. "This is an unbelievable turn of events right outside the Watsons’ board meeting!"Another reporter pushed her way to the front. "Do we know who shot him? Could this be a corporate rivalry taken too far?"Lugard tried to shield Sultan from the growing crowd, his voice urgent as he called for an ambulance. "Move back! Give him spa
The Fool's Gold (Major Arcana) Red Glow, Skull, Mirror, IMAGE!
Meanwhile, back at the company, the scene of the incident was still buzzing with chaos. Employees were gathered in tight-knit groups, whispering furiously and speculating about what had just happened. The reporters, eager to follow the next chapter of the story, were hastily packing up their equipment, some already heading to the Watson estate in the hopes of catching another glimpse of Emmett Watson.Amidst the commotion, someone slowly bent down, their slender fingers brushing against the cold, hard floor. They felt around carefully until they touched the dented surface of the gold coin. With a quick glance around to ensure they weren’t being watched, they picked it up and clutched it tightly in their hand.The person straightened, slipping the coin into their pocket. They moved with a calculated nonchalance, blending back into the crowd of employees who were still murmuring in disbelief."Did you see how he just got up? Like it was nothing!""I thought for sure he was a goner. T
The Fool's Gold Two Shocks In A Day (1) [Emmett's Mole]
"Y... you've got to be kidding me," Sultan blurted out, though he was not as shocked as one might expect. He was familiar with the Hermit, a figure from the Major Arcana he knew nothing about just yet. The old wizardly man's face, pale as a corpse and shrouded under a hood, stared back at him from the mirror. His eyes, like ancient sand, held a depth of wisdom and forewarning.Sultan frowned, conflicted by the Hermit's sudden appearance and cryptic presence. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration and curiosity.He was trying to avoid those people huh, those other work cult trying to initiate him yet.. ugh! They just kept appearing.The Hermit's gaze was intense, truly penetrating Sultan's soul. He raised a skeletal hand, pointing directly at Sultan through the mirror. "Looming dangers approach, Sultan," the Hermit warned, his voice a haunting whisper. "The path is fraught with peril, and shadows gather around you."Sultan tried to grasp the meaning behind
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The Armstrongs (1)
The room was dark, the only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioner, and Sultan could still feel his pulse racing from the nightmare. He muttered under his breath, "Damn it…"Sultan shifted in bed, the sheets rustling as he pushed himself up to sit at the edge. His hand ran through his hair, now damp with sweat. He could still feel the weight of the dream, the shadows of the four figures lingering in his mind. Their accusations, the way they chased him, it all felt too real. It was as if they were trying to pull him back into something he desperately wanted to escape from."Forgotten... forsaken… what the hell does it even mean?" He muttered, rubbing his face with his palms. The clock on the nightstand showed 6:15 AM. He hadn’t planned on waking up this early, but after that dream, there was no chance of going back to sleep. He got up, his feet making soft thuds on the carpet as he moved to the window. Pulling the curtains apart, he was met with the dull light of dawn. The
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Nightmare - Forsaken Son
Darkness clung to Sultan like a thick fog as he found himself standing in the middle of an unfamiliar place. He couldn’t tell if it was night or day—the sky was a dull, ashen gray, and the air was still, oppressive, as if the world itself were holding its breath. Around him, shadows loomed, shifting and twisting, never settling into anything recognizable.Sultan’s breath quickened, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure how he had ended up here or why, but something about this place gnawed at the edges of his mind, a whisper of fear that he couldn’t quite shake. The ground beneath his feet was cold, hard, and unyielding, and every step he took seemed to echo into the void.He started walking, not sure where he was going, but driven by an urgent need to move. His footsteps were the only sound, the silence around him thick and stifling. As he moved forward, the shadows seemed to part slightly, revealing a narrow path ahead. It wound through what appeared to be an endless exp
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The Shadow In The Armstrong's Den
The road to a certain destination was long and winding, flanked by dense forests that seemed to close in around the narrow path. The man walked with a deliberate pace, his steps heavy with the weight of memories that he couldn’t shake. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, and the only sound was the steady crunch of leaves underfoot.As the road twisted and turned, the destination finally came into view, nestled at the end of the valley. "Armstrong's Den," the man blurted out.The house stood like a forgotten sentinel, its once-grand façade now weathered by time. Vines clung to the walls, and the windows, some broken, others covered in dust, gazed out like the hollow eyes of a weary sentinel. The man hesitated at the edge of the clearing, his gaze fixed on the house that seemed to hold all the answers he had been seeking.Without a word, he moved forward, crossing the worn cobblestone path that led to the front door. The creaking of the floorboards under his feet
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Shadow In The Woods
(SOMEWHERE IN THE WOODS)..It was a typical late afternoon in the sleepy little town of Thornwood, where the world seemed to move just a touch slower. The summer sun was beginning its descent, casting long, lazy shadows across the winding dirt road that led out of town and into the thick, endless stretch of woods that bordered the northern edge of the county. The locals called it the “Dark Forest,” though it had no official name. It was a place that everyone knew of but few dared to explore.Today, the forest was quiet, as it usually was, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant cry of a bird. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, and the light filtered through the dense canopy above, painting the forest floor in a patchwork of gold and shadow.As the day edged closer to dusk, the quiet was broken by the crunch of gravel underfoot. A man, dressed in a worn leather jacket and faded jeans, walked slowly down the old road that cut through the forest. His
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Dine For Marriage (2)
The room, still warm with the remnants of their earlier conversation, felt charged with an undercurrent of something unspoken, something that Sultan had already perceived.For Sultan was no ordinary man. Known to many as the fool—a title that masked the depth of his true abilities—he had honed his skills to an art. And today, as Mr. Dickson sat across from him, discussing marriage and the future of the Watson family, Sultan’s mind was elsewhere, reaching into the recesses of Dickson's thoughts, peeling back the layers of his intentions.In an instant, Sultan saw it clearly: Mr. Dickson's visit had little to do with genuine concern for the Watsons or their company's future. It was about positioning. The recent collaborations with Lin Enterprise and Sullivan, the President's son, had solidified the Watsons’ place on the path to immense power and influence. Mr. Dickson, ever the opportunist, was angling for a deeper slice of that pie—one that could only be secured through family ties. H
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Dine For Marriage (1)
The morning sun poured gently through the tall windows of the Watson estate, casting a warm glow over the meticulously set dining table. The table was adorned with fine china, polished silverware, and an array of breakfast dishes—freshly baked bread, fruits, eggs, and other delights, arranged with care by the household staff. Mr. and Mrs. Watson were already seated, exchanging quiet words as they waited for their sons and their guest to join them."Everything looks perfect," Mrs. Watson remarked, her eyes scanning the table with approval."It certainly does," Mr. Watson agreed, a hint of pride in his voice. "But it’s not the food that matters today. It’s eating with our sons."As they spoke, one of the bodyguards entered the room, standing tall by the door. "Mr. Dickson has arrived," he announced."Thank you. Please show him in," Mr. Watson instructed.A moment later, Mr. Dickson entered the dining room, his presence as imposing as ever. Dressed in a tailored suit, he moved with the
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The President's Son Is Collaborating
"Greetings and peace be unto here,” a bewitching voice slurred from the entrance.The atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically as Sullivan walked in. The cameras, previously focused on Sultan and the Watson family, swung towards the door, capturing every step of the president's son. The reporters, eager for a scoop, rushed forward, their microphones thrust out and voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony of questions and praises."Mr President's son! Over here!""Mr. Sullivan, can we get a comment?""How do you feel about the recent developments? And do you have a hand in the help of the Watsons to resolve their issues?""Why are you here today?”Sullivan, dressed in a sharp suit that seemed to glow with authority, acknowledged the cameras with a nod and a charismatic smile. His presence commanded attention, and the room seemed to hold its breath.Mr. and Mrs. Watson, along with Emmet, looked genuinely happy. They exchanged glances, then moved quickly to greet Sullivan and his ent
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Together! (2)
After his bold declaration, Sultan tapped Emmett's back seemingly soothing him to easen his tension then stepped forward, addressing the gathered shareholders, employees, and reporters. His calm demeanor and confident presence commanded attention, and as he began to speak, the room fell silent. He felt the funny and playful side it him - the FOOL, give way for his smart side as Sultan Armstrong, now a Watson. "Ladies and gentlemen," Sultan began, his voice steady and assured, "I understand that there has been a lot of uncertainty and concern regarding the future of the Watson Company. Today, I stand before you to address those concerns and present a vision for our collective future."He paused, letting his words sink in. The shareholders, some skeptical, some hopeful, leaned in, eager to hear more."My vision for the Watson Company is one of innovation, fairness, and family values. We need to embrace new technologies and ideas to stay competitive in this rapidly changing market. Bu
- The Fool's Gold
Together! (1)
As Joe Armstrong's car sped away from Emmett, he took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the conversation that had just transpired. But instead of heading straight to the office, he made a subtle turn back towards the previous location. Once out of sight, Joe pulled over and quickly exited his vehicle. He glanced around cautiously, ensuring no one was observing him.A short distance away, a larger, luxurious gold-colored Venza awaited him. Joe approached the vehicle, his demeanor shifting from casual to serious. He opened the rear door and slipped inside, immediately bowing his head. In the plush back seat, a man dressed in a striking gold suit sat with an air of authority. His presence was commanding, exuding a quiet, menacing power. This was Sullivan, a figure who rarely showed his face but whose influence was deeply felt.Joe greeted him respectfully, "Greetings, Master."Sullivan, without looking up from the tablet he was holding, acknowledged Joe's presence with a slight n
