The Grand Horizon Ballroom was a cathedral of excess, a shimmering monument to the city's elite. Crystal chandeliers, each the size of a compact car, dripped from the vaulted ceilings, casting a fractured, diamond-like light over the crowd. Here, the air didn't smell like the city; it smelled of aged scotch, French perfume, and the cold, metallic scent of high-stakes power.
This was the annual "Solstice Gala," where a single conversation could bankrupt a middle-class suburb or launch a new technological revolution. For years, Felicity had fought for an invitation to this inner sanctum. Tonight, she arrived not as a desperate social climber, but as the guest of honor, though the world did not yet know why.
The matte-black SUV pulled up to the red carpet, its presence silent and predatory among the roaring Ferraris and Lamborghinis. When the valet opened the door, a hush fell over the gathered paparazzi.
Einstein stepped out first.
The "unproductive husband" was gone. In his place stood a man in a bespoke midnight-blue tuxedo, the fabric woven with subtle silk threads that caught the light like deep water. His posture was perfect—the result of a 12th-level Ascendant's balance. He reached back into the car and offered his hand to Felicity.
She emerged looking like a goddess of the corporate world. Her gown was a minimalist masterpiece of silver silk that clung to her frame, her hair swept up to reveal a diamond necklace that cost more than the Bradley family's entire car collection—a "gift" from the E.J. Holdings treasury.
"Stay close," Einstein whispered, his voice vibrating with a frequency that only she could hear. "The Vanguard is already inside. Rhea is disguised as a server near the stage. If anything feels wrong, you move to the left exit."
Felicity tightened her grip on his arm. "I've spent my life wanting to be in this room, Einstein. Now that I'm here, all I can think about is how many people in here want us dead."
"That," Einstein said, flashing a shark-like smile for the cameras, "is the price of being at the top."
The Lion Among Vultures
As they entered the ballroom, the whispers followed them like a wake behind a ship.
"Is that... the Jacob girl? I thought her company was underwater." "Who is the man with her? He looks familiar, but... no, it couldn't be."
The Bradley family was already there, positioned in the center of the room. Old Man Bradley froze, his champagne glass halfway to his lips, as he saw Felicity and Einstein approach. His son, Bradley Jr., turned a mottled shade of purple. Just yesterday, they had been humiliated in their own boardroom. To see the "gardener" dressed in a suit that cost more than a mid-range sedan was a slap in the face they weren't prepared for.
"Felicity," Old Man Bradley croaked, stepping forward to intercept them. "You have a lot of nerve showing your face here after the stunt you pulled with the northern plant."
"Business is business, Mr. Bradley," Felicity said, her voice cool and steady. "I assume you're here to celebrate the Iron-Core contract?"
Bradley Jr. stepped toward Einstein, his eyes narrowed with spite. "I don't know who you're pretending to be tonight, Jacob, but a tuxedo doesn't change the fact that you're a delivery boy. Who did you rob to rent this suit? Or is Felicity using her new creditor's money to dress up her pet?"
Einstein didn't blink. He didn't even look at the younger Bradley. His gaze was fixed on the second-floor balcony, where three men in high-collared black suits were watching the floor with predatory intensity. He recognized the 'Iron-Palm' callouses on their hands even from fifty feet away.
"Mr. Bradley," Einstein said, finally looking at the father. "I suggest you take your son to the bar and keep him there. The air in this room is about to get very thin for people who don't know when to be silent."
The Hidden War
The Gala was a mask for a much larger meeting. In the private VIP lounges upstairs, the War God Council's regional representatives were gathering. They had been told that the Jacob heir would be present, and they were prepared.
Einstein led Felicity toward the dance floor, moving her away from the center of the room. As the orchestra began a slow, haunting waltz, Einstein leaned down, his lips brushing her ear.
"In ten seconds, the lights are going to flicker. That's the signal for the 'True Heir' faction to move. When it happens, I need you to drop to the floor. Rhea will be over you in a heartbeat."
"Einstein, wait—"
The lights didn't just flicker. They exploded.
A surge of high-voltage electricity, triggered by a Vanguard hacker in the basement, blew the transformers. Screams erupted as the ballroom was plunged into a terrifying, strobe-lit darkness.
In that split second, Einstein's 12th-level vision took over. To him, the room was bathed in a pale, thermal blue. He saw the three assassins from the balcony leaping down, their silk robes fluttering like the wings of giant bats. They weren't using guns. They were using 'Dragon-Scale' daggers, poisoned blades meant for a quick, silent kill.
Einstein pushed Felicity down, his body shielding hers. "Rhea! Now!"
From the shadows near the catering tables, six figures in evening wear shed their outer layers to reveal tactical vests. Rhea, looking lethal in a backless dress that hid a dozen throwing knives, moved with a speed that defied human biology.
Einstein didn't wait for his guard. He lunged forward, his tuxedo jacket fluttering as he engaged the first assassin in mid-air. He used the 'Shattering Mountain' strike, a 12th-level technique that focused his internal Qi into a single point on his knuckles.
CRACK.
The assassin's dagger shattered into a thousand shards, and the man was sent hurtling back into the Bradley's table, smashing the ice sculpture of a swan into frozen dust.
The Arrival of the High Lord
The chaos was absolute. The elite of the city were scrambling for the exits, but the doors had been magnetically sealed.
"Einstein Jacob!" a voice boomed, cutting through the screams and the sounds of combat.
The emergency lights kicked on, dim and red, revealing a man standing on the grand staircase. He looked ancient, his skin like yellowed parchment, but his eyes glowed with a terrifying, unnatural violet light. He carried a staff made of dark wood, topped with a jade dragon.
"The High Lord of the Council," Rhea whispered, her daggers raised. "Sir, he's a 13th-level Sovereign. We can't beat him."
"Get the others out," Einstein commanded, his voice echoing with the authority of a King. "The vault in the basement. Use the emergency tunnel. Felicity, go with Rhea!"
"No! Einstein!" Felicity cried, but Rhea grabbed her arm with a grip like iron, pulling her toward the kitchen service entrance.
Einstein stood alone in the center of the ruined ballroom. Around him lay the unconscious bodies of the Council's elite 'Hounds' and the shattered remnants of the city's high society.
The High Lord descended the stairs, each step causing the floor to vibrate. "Your grandfather was a fool, Einstein. He thought he could hide the Sun-God Seal in a child. He thought wealth would be a shield. But wealth is just paper. Only the Seal matters."
"The Seal is part of my blood now," Einstein said, his tuxedo shirt tearing as his muscles expanded with the sheer volume of Qi he was drawing from his core. "If you want it, you have to drain every drop."
The High Lord laughed, a sound like dry leaves. "I don't need your blood, boy. I just need your heart."
The old man moved. He didn't use a strike; he used a mental wave of pressure. Einstein felt as if the gravity in the room had suddenly increased by ten times. His knees buckled, and the marble floor beneath him began to crack.
Einstein gritted his teeth, his eyes turning a blinding, incandescent gold. He thought of his mother's voice. He thought of the $100 billion. He realized then that the money wasn't just for guards or houses—it was a focus. A way to anchor his soul to the physical world so he wouldn't be crushed by the High Lord's spiritual pressure.
"I am Einstein Jacob!" he roared, the force of his voice shattering the remaining crystal chandeliers. "And I am the Master of this Board!"
He broke through the pressure, launching himself at the High Lord. Their collision sent a shockwave that blew out every window in the Grand Horizon, glass raining down on the city streets below like frozen tears.
The Second Gift Unlocked
As their fists met, Einstein felt a surge of information—not just power, but knowledge. The "Second Gift" wasn't just a deposit; it was a digital key that had been synchronized to his heart rate. As his pulse hit 180 beats per minute, his phone, tucked in his pocket, transmitted a signal to a global satellite network.
High above the earth, a Jacob-Clan satellite aligned its lenses.
On the ground, Einstein felt a beam of pure energy strike his mind. He saw his father. He saw the "King of the North" standing on a battlefield of ice.
"The money is the fuel, Einstein," his father's voice echoed from across time. "The Seal is the engine. But the will... the will is the driver. Drive them into the dirt."
Einstein's power surged past the 12th level. He felt his spirit expand, touching the 13th-level Sovereign realm. He caught the High Lord's staff and snapped it like a dry twig. He delivered a flurry of eighteen strikes—the 'Nine Heavens, Nine Hells' combo—each one landing with the force of a falling star.
The High Lord was driven back up the stairs, his violet light flickering and dying. With a final, thunderous palm strike, Einstein sent the old man through the heavy oak doors of the VIP lounge.
The New Dawn
Einstein stood in the wreckage, his tuxedo in tatters, his body covered in bruises, but his spirit unbroken. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The balance had changed again.
Current Balance: $500,000,000,000.50
Half a trillion dollars.
The High Lord was gone, fled into the night, but Einstein knew this was just a victory in a single battle. The Council was global. The traitor in his mother's circle was still out there. And now, the entire world knew that the "King of the North" had a successor.
He walked out of the ballroom and into the cool night air. Felicity was waiting by the SUV, surrounded by the Vanguard. When she saw him, she didn't care about the cameras or the police sirens in the distance. She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck.
"You're alive," she sobbed.
"I'm more than alive, Felicity," Einstein said, looking up at the stars. "I'm the Chairman of the world. And tomorrow... tomorrow we start buying the rest of it."
As they drove away from the ruins of the Gala, Einstein's phone buzzed.
New Message: Mother "The Sovereign is defeated. But the King is rising. Come to London, Einstein. It's time to open the final vault. The $100 billion was just the pocket change. The real inheritance... it's not money. It's the Throne."
Einstein looked at Felicity, then at his hands, which were still glowing with the golden light of the War God.
"Rhea," he said to the driver. "Call the airport. We aren't going to the villa. We're going to London."