[Author's Thoughts:]Hey there, readers! đThis chapter dives into the origins of our male lead â a boy the world saw as nothing, but whose future would burn bright and terrifying.Let's gooo! đđ„
The rusted skyline of the third country, Erold, shimmered beneath an oily sun. Streets bustled with desperate voices, barterers, broken dreams, and hope hidden behind clenched jaws. Somewhere in this tangled maze of wires and smoke, a young man toiled under a levitating car in a back-alley mechanical shop.
A voice barked across the room.
"Jake! Stop fooling under there and go pick up Mr. Holande's car!"
Jake slid out from under the floating machine, grease smeared across his jaw and worn-out shirt. He blinked.
"Mr. Holande?"That name sent a tremor through his bones.
"Yeah, the Mr. Holande," the older man repeated, his salt-and-oil hair bristling. "It's your first visit there, so don't mess this up. Just grab the car and bring it here. Don't speak unless you're spoken to. Got it?"
Jake nodded slowly, wiping his hands on a rag.
The Holande Estate⊠Seriously?
With a sigh, he boarded the city rail â a packed, steam-spitting iron tube crawling toward the city's gold-walled elite zone.
This world ran on Ăillira â the rarest currency in existence. A single Ă could buy a month of survival in Erold's slums.Mr. Holande's car? Worth 734 billion Ă. Just thinking about that made Jake's stomach twist.
But money wasn't new to Jake.
He just never had it.
Let's rewind.
Jake â born without a known surname, raised without a family. His parents? Unknown. Rumor said they were once Erold's top scientists, killed in an "accident" that no one dared explain. Jake was just three months old when his guardian â a woman who never told him the truth â also died.
Since then, he lived on the edge. The edge of hunger. Of eviction. Of being forgotten.
But somehow, he survived.
By the age of 3, he learned how to tinker. By 10, he could fix anything with gears. By 21, he had built tech most engineers couldn't dream of. He wasn't just skilled â he was a prodigy trapped in poverty.
Still, no one recognized him.
No one but Laz â his one and only friend.
Laz's family wasn't rich, but they had love. When Laz's dad died, Jake started helping out â bringing food, fixing home gadgets, using spare coin to get Laz's sister medicine. They were family to him.
Recently, Laz joined an underground group known as:
THE REAPERS đŠA secretive organization with hackers, fixers, and info-brokers who stamped their cases with a seal that terrified even the police. Everyone knew â if the Reaper Seal was on your case file, you'd lose.
It became so popular, people began forging the stamp. So the group went digital â accounts could now be purchased, jobs sold, seals applied online.
500 Ă for a seal.200 Ă for account access.Then? You name your price. And the world pays you.
Laz told Jake to join.
Jake said no.
"I don't want to be feared. I want to be trusted," Jake had said.
"Then starve," Laz had replied.
Maybe Jake was a fool.
Back to the present.
Jake stepped out of the train and into the Holande Estate â a golden dome with silver towers rising like a kingdom above clouds. He handed in the slip, got pointed to a hovercar, and began driving it carefully out of the compound.
Then â screech. A near collision.
He slammed the brakes. Jumped out.
And found himself staring into the eyes of a goddess.
She was radiant, furious, and spoiled â Elena Holande.
"Are you blind or just stupid?!" she snapped, brushing her golden hair behind her shoulder.
Jake's mouth parted slightly, but he only said:
"Sorry, ma'am."
Then he walked away.
Just like that.
Elena froze.
Did he just ignore me?Who the hell is that guy?!
Inside the Holande Mansion, Elena faced her usual doom: 12 family members judging her existence. Three wives. Nine children. One husband â cold and distant. And her crime?
Existing.
She barely entered when a voice snapped across the room.
"Are you insane, you useless brat!" â Mrs. Florence, the family's venom queen.
"Take her to the kitchen," another sneered.
"Let her cook for once."
And off she was dragged.
A princess in title.
A prisoner in truth.
And somewhere outside, the boy she just insulted drove off â unaware that their fates were about to collide in the most unthinkable way.
TBCâŠ
âïž Author Opzzzzz
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