Chapter 5

The grand ballroom was alive with music and laughter. People danced under glittering chandeliers.

Zen stood quietly in the party that Keisha convinced him to attend. He watched the scene with a calm expression. 

Nearby, a group of people were deep in discussion about recent changes in the city.

“Have you heard?” a tall man with a beard leaned in, his voice excited. “The owner of mega has finally shown up in Mega.”

A woman in a green dress raised her eyebrow. “I thought Willow was the owner.”

“That’s not possible,” another man, younger and dressed in a sharp tuxedo, shook his head. “She never said she owned Mega. In fact, she’s always been clear that she’s just a spokesperson.”

“In her words, the ‘CEO’ of mega” another voice added.

A woman with red hair swirled her champagne. “Maybe she’s just the face. The real power might be someone we’ve never seen.”

“Who could it be then?” the bearded man asked. “Who’s powerful enough to stay hidden all this time?”

“I heard a rumor,” the younger man said, lowering his voice even more. “Some people think it’s someone from outside the city, someone with a lot of influence and resources.”

The woman in the green dress looked skeptical. “An outsider? That doesn’t make sense. Why would someone from outside the city invest so much in Mega?”

The red-haired woman shrugged. “Maybe they have their reasons. Power and money can make people do strange things.”

“Do you think this new owner will change things for the better?” the bearded man asked, looking around at the group.

The younger man nodded. “I think so. Mega has already seen a lot of improvements. The infrastructure is better, and there are more jobs.”

“But there’s also more control,” the woman in green pointed out. “People are starting to feel like they’re under constant surveillance.”

“Better security,” the red-haired woman countered. “It’s a trade-off. Sometimes you need to give up a little freedom for safety.”

Zen listened to the conversation, his face showing no emotion. 

“Mega this, Mega that. Don’t these people ever shut up,” Zen thought to himself as he set his glass down.

“Ugh, I need to get some fresh air,” he walked towards the hallway.

As he stepped into the hallway, he bumped into Dave. Dave was the man his wife had brought to their home the day she handed Zen the divorce papers.

Dave smirked, “Well, well, if it isn’t Zen. How did you manage to get a job here?”

Zen stayed quiet.

“Oh man, you must have some good connections with a cleaning agency,” Dave laughed.

“You also got a really expensive suit on, I guess you landed a good job in a good cleaning agency,” Dave continued, not even trying to hold his laughter.

Zen remained silent, his face calm and composed as Dave laughed and walked away, “take care of yourself, cleaner boy.”

Zen sighed and continued walking. As he rounded a corner, he bumped into someone again. 

“Don’t you have eyes,” Zen said as he reached for his face, rubbing the spot from the collision.

“Oh my God!!” Zen could hear a female voice. 

“You're the blind one here, now look how you’ve ruined my dress,” the voice continued.

Zen took his hands off his face to behold the beauty in front of him.

“Madame, please take this,” her attendant handed her a cloth.

“Do you know who this is? She is Rosalia Sinclair, from one of the 4 big families in this city,” the attendant continued.

“C’mon, I’ve told you to stop saying that,” Rosalia said, looking back to Zen to see if he got offended.

“So?” Zen asked.

“What do you mean by that?” The attendant replied.

“She’s from one of the big 4, what does that have to do with me?” Zen asked, with a straight look on his face. No hint of emotions or concern whatsoever.

“If you would excuse me, I have better things to do, you guys have already spoiled my mood.” Zen turned back and started heading back inside the ballroom.

“Hey, you just insulted one of t—”

Before the attendant could finish, Rosalia interrupted, “It’s enough, you don’t need to say that every 5 minutes.”

She looked back as he walked away.

The evening went on, and soon the host of the party, Old Man Cyrus Gryce, came down the grand staircase into the hall. The guests went silent as he approached the center with a microphone in his hand.

“Welcome, everyone,” Cyrus said, “What more can I say,” he laughed.

“Please, enjoy yourselves tonight. Let’s make it a night to remember.”

He handed off the microphone and began to mingle with the guests. Zen watched as Cyrus approached a group where Malia was talking.

“Malia, good to see you,” Cyrus said. “I hear you have a new real estate deal.”

“Yes, it’s quite promising,” Malia replied, then turned to Dave. “Cyrus, this is my fiancé, Dave.”

Cyrus smiled. “Dave, how’s your father doing these days?”

“He’s well, thank you,” Dave replied smoothly.

“You're looking as young as ever sir,” Dave continued, smiling.

Cyrus looked at Malia with a teasing smile. “I thought you were already married. Where’s this fiancé coming from?”

Malia’s smile faded, and she tried to change the subject. “Oh, Mr. Cyrus, you’re always joking.”

But before she could continue, his glass slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor.

He clutched his chest, struggling to breathe. The room froze in shock as he collapsed, and chaos erupted as people rushed to help.

As Cyrus collapsed, his butler rushed to his aid, quickly followed by several guards. One of the guards shouted, “We need a doctor! Is there a doctor here?”

A few doctors who were present at the ball stepped forward, identifying themselves and rushing to the scene. One of them knelt beside Cyrus, checking his pulse and looking at his eyes. “I can’t identify the issue,” he said, frustration quite evident in his voice. “We need to get him to a hospital immediately.”

Zen stepped out from the shadows, his expression calm. “He won’t live long enough to make it to the hospital.”

The crowd gasped and murmured. One of the older doctors, Dr. Patel Bass, who stood beside the modern doctors, looked closely at Cyrus and nodded. “From the way his eyes are folding, he might be at death’s door. How did you figure that out just by looking at him? Such expertise at a young age.”

Zen didn’t answer but instead requested, “Let me heal him.”

One of the Doctor’s stood up, “Who are you?”

“My identity doesn’t concern you, let me heal the old man before he dies,” Zen said.

“Which hospital are you from?” The doctor asked,

“Where’s your license?” The doctor continued with his questions.

“Young man, I bet you just came out to act like a doctor just to impress the beautiful ladies from the various rich families present here,” The doctor smirked.

Before Zen could reply, Malia jumped out and shouted at Zen, “Tom! Stick to your cleaning job! Who do you think you are?”

Zen met her gaze calmly. “I can’t remember anyone asking for your opinion.”

Malia’s face twisted in anger. “You’re just privileged to clean at a ball of this status. Don’t overstep your boundaries!”

“So he was a cleaner?” One of the doctor laughed,

“We almost let a cleaner try to heal the old man, what nonsense!” Another doctor added, the crowd murmured a little.

Zen replied coldly, “I wish I could clean your character like floors.”

Malia’s face flushed with rage as the crowd around them buzzed with whispers. Zen walked forward, but one of the younger doctors blocked his path. “I said, who do you think you are? Show us your license if you’re a real doctor!”

Zen reached into his pocket and pulled out an acupuncture kit. The doctors sneered, and one of them laughed. “Traditional medicine? Are you serious? This isn’t the time for jokes.”

Another doctor added, “We don’t have time for this nonsense. He needs real medical help, not needles.”

Zen remained calm, his eyes focused on Cyrus. Dr. Patel raised his hand, silencing the other doctors. “Let him through,” he said. “I want to see what he can do.”

The doctors grumbled

“What? Dr. patel this is w—“

Before the doctor could finish, Patel silenced him with a wave of his hand. The doctor grumbled and stepped aside. Dr. Patel was well respected, known as the owner of one of the biggest hospitals in the city. His words carried weight.

Zen knelt beside Cyrus and opened his acupuncture kit. He took out several needles and began to carefully insert them into specific points on Cyrus’s body. He worked with precision, his movements were quick and confident. The crowd watched in stunned silence.

As he placed the final needle, Cyrus suddenly coughed, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath. The people around him began to gather closer, murmuring in awe. Cyrus’s breathing steadied, and color began to return to his face.

One of the doctors who had mocked Zen earlier stepped forward, looking astonished. “What did you do? How did you manage that?”

Zen didn’t answer. He quietly packed up his kit and stood.

“Quick! Bring the cars, we can take him to the hospital now,” the butler screamed.

The ball became rowdy, with staff running up and down.

“That was incredible,” Dr. Patel said. “What a remarkable man.”

But as the crowd turned to look for Zen, he was nowhere to be found. Dr. Patel scanned the room and finally spotted him walking away, disappearing into the night. Dr. Patel smiled to himself and whispered, “What a man.”

Malia stood there, shocked. "Did he have that kind of skill all these years?" she thought to herself. She watched as Zen walked away, past Rosalia, who also turned to watch him leave quietly.

Rosalia turned to a friend nearby. "That man just saved Cyrus, do you have any idea who he is?"

"No, but I just heard from a friend that he’s the rumored trash husband from the Rossi family," her friend replied, 

Zen walked calmly through the crowd, ignoring the whispers and stares. He approached the exit, where Keisha stood ready to open the door for him. He entered the car and Keisha shut the door behind him.

Patel followed closely behind. "Wait!" he shouted, hoping to catch Zen before he left.

Keisha stepped in front of Patel, her expression firm. "My chief is not available right now," she said, blocking the way.

Patel frowned. "He must be someone powerful, huh?"

Keisha nodded slightly. "If you wish to speak with my boss, you will need to book an appointment."

Patel looked puzzled. "Where do I make the appointment?"

Keisha opened the door and entered the car. "Mega," she said simply, then shut the door firmly behind her.

Patel stood there, mumbling to himself. "Mega? Mega?" His eyes widened in realization. "Wait, don’t tell me he’s—"

He turned quickly and watched the car drive away with Zen inside.