Vicky's Level 5 immunity had fundamentally changed his relationship with the world. He no longer hid. His life was a performance of effortless success, and the college campus was his stage.
Vicky's new popularity was not forced; it was magnetic. His enhanced charisma, coupled with the subtle drops of influence-laced blood given to Ethan and Maya, ensured he was always surrounded by loyal, adoring people. He hosted impromptu study groups at high-end cafes, paid for the top educational software for his cohort, and made thoughtful, small gestures that ensured the entire student body viewed him as a genius philanthropist. Some admired him for being generous and kind.
He was the new, impossible standard. Students didn't resent his wealth; they were drawn to his calm, commanding presence. He had replaced Damien Vance as the undisputed social king, all without ever asking for a vote.
Ethan and Maya were completely absorbed. Ethan saw Vicky as a brilliant mentor who had unlocked new financial possibilities, while Maya, the social engineer, was content to organize the ever-growing circle of admirers, basking in Vicky's reflected glow. This soft, societal power gave Vicky vast, low-level intelligence on campus happenings—including the frantic stress emanating from his rivals.
The Imperial Grand Incident
One evening, Vicky decided to celebrate a minor coding victory by taking Ethan and Maya to the Imperial Grand Hotel, the most exclusive rooftop lounge in Veros.
As they were being led to their table, the floor manager, a sharp-faced man named Gerald, intercepted them, eyeing Ethan and Maya's slightly less polished college attire with open disdain.
"I apologize, sir," Gerald said to Vicky, his voice condescendingly smooth. "We seem to be overbooked. Perhaps you and your, ah, friends might be more comfortable at the bistro downstairs? This area is reserved for our established clientele."
The slight was palpable. Ethan flushed with embarrassment, and Maya looked ready to argue, but Vicky simply stopped, his expression unreadable. His enhanced hearing picked up the manager's muttering—Rich kid playing slumming with his scholarship friends.
Vicky took his phone out and, without breaking eye contact with Gerald, sent a single text to Marcus Keller: "Imperial Grand. Gerald, floor manager. Terminate employment and freeze all his outstanding career assets. Timeframe: 5 minutes. Report back."
He then smiled at Gerald. "Established clientele. I see. I am afraid I insist on this table. You see, I plan to be a very established client."
Less than three minutes later, Gerald's phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and the color drained from his face. His confident smirk dissolved into sheer, paralyzing panic. He stumbled backward, dropping his tablet.
"Sir… Mr. Thorne," Gerald stammered, his eyes wide with fear. "I—I apologize profoundly. There has been a terrible mistake. Your table is ready. Please, forgive my lapse in judgment. I… I've just received some devastating personal news."
Vicky walked past him without a word, leading his bewildered friends to the best table overlooking the city.
Later, Maya asked, "What was that about? He looked like he saw a ghost."
"Just the weight of gold, Maya," Vicky murmured, accepting a glass of sparkling water. "Sometimes, a simple phone call can remind people of their value in the market." It was a quiet, non-supernatural demonstration of the absolute corporate control he wielded, far more terrifying than any Blood Claw.
The focus shifted back to Damien. His family, Vance Holdings, was attempting to stabilize their stock price by hosting the annual Veros Innovation Gala—a massive, high-profile event designed to secure a critical, multi-million dollar state energy contract. Damien was desperately attempting to be the face of the event, hoping to regain his father's trust.
Vicky saw the event not as a business opportunity, but as a public execution.
Vicky met with Senator Hayes in a secure, nondescript downtown office the next day. Hayes, now rejuvenated and terrifyingly sharp, waited eagerly for his Master's instructions.
"Senator," Vicky began. "The Vance Gala on Friday. I need the state contract presentation to fail in spectacular, non-recoverable fashion. I don't want the Vances charged; I want them humiliated in front of their peers."
Hayes immediately grasped the necessary complexity. "A contract failure requires multiple pressure points. I can trigger an emergency safety audit—unannounced—two hours before the presentation. I can also ensure the Environmental Review Board raises a critical, last-minute flag about the project's energy source. It will look like bureaucratic incompetence, not malice."
Vicky smiled, appreciating the calculated cruelty. "Perfection. Use the bureaucracy to strangle them. And Senator, ensure I receive an official, last-minute invitation as the newly appointed Student Liaison for the Engineering Department. I need a front-row seat for the chaos."
Hayes bowed his head in perfect submission. "It will be done, Master. Vance Holdings will be a public joke by Saturday morning."
The intricate web of political and financial sabotage was now fully woven, ready to spring on Damien Vance at the moment he needed success most. Seraphina would be there, and she would watch the man she chose fall, while the man she rejected rose.
Vicky has effectively demonstrated his powerful, unseen hand in the human world and set the stage for the public confrontation. Mila is still operating in the dark, and Seraphina is preparing for an event that will define her future.