Outside the hospital room.
It was Neon, who had rushed over after hearing the news. Seeing her father lying in a hospital bed, she immediately broke free from the bodyguard's grip and ran to his side, collapsing beside him and sobbing.
"Daddy, what happened to you?"
Looking at his daughter, Light's thoughts drifted a bit, but he still reached out and gently patted her head.
"It's nothing, sweetheart. Daddy just got sick and needs a bit of rest. I'll be better soon."
"Really?"
"Of course, sweetie. When has Daddy ever lied to you?"
"Liar! You always lie!" Neon pouted, brows furrowed and face full of indignation.
Light didn't argue. He simply smiled and softly patted her head again.
After a moment of silence, he asked, "Neon, what made you want to start doing fortune-telling?"
"Hm?" Neon was a bit confused but still thought seriously before replying, "I saw it on TV. There was a fortune-telling show, and I thought it looked fun, so I wanted to try it myself."
That simple? Light found it hard to believe.
Even now, he couldn't bring himself to fully accept whether the prophecy poem she gave him actually predicted the future.
But he also knew—even if prophecies are real—the future could still be changed. He'd considered that possibility from the start.
If… if the prophecy was real…
A radiant smile spread across Light's face without him realizing.
"Daddy, why are you smiling like that? It's kinda creepy."
Hearing his daughter's words, Light tried to stop smiling, but couldn't help himself. He did his best to relax his expression.
Looking at Neon, he said, "Sweetheart, could you do another fortune for Daddy? Maybe if I see another prophecy, I'll feel more at ease."
But the moment he said that, Neon crossed her arms and frowned sternly.
"No way, Daddy. Fortune-telling is meant to help people live happier and more motivated lives—not to become obsessed with it.
"If you rely on it too much, you'll just turn into a coward who can't do anything without a prophecy. I already did one for you this month. You'll have to wait until next month."
Light hadn't expected to be rejected by his daughter. But he wasn't mad, nor did he pressure her.
Instead, he calmed down and looked again at the paper in his hand, reading over the prophecy poem.
So… the predictions were only for things that happened within a month?
Only significant events were marked and written into prophecy.
He couldn't come to a solid conclusion—he could only try to interpret things based on what had already happened.
Could it really be true? He still found it hard to believe that his daughter possessed a genuine fortune-telling ability—it felt like magic.
Looking at the poem, only the final verse hadn't yet come true.
But since the earlier parts had already changed because of the choices he made, would this last part still occur? He didn't know the answer.
"The slave beast of money poses the question—
The time of choice is at hand.
Drift with the current and rot in stagnant decay,
Or break the chains and gaze toward the distant blue sky."
So a major decision was approaching—and it was closely tied to his future?
He was starting to believe the prophecy was real, so he had no choice but to analyze it seriously.
The "slave beast of money"—was it referring to hired thugs? Or people who would do anything for money?
"Drift with the current" might mean continuing his life as usual. But doing so would mean falling further into a life of rot and decay.
Based on his experiences, Light could sense that the "rot and decay" referred to shady, illegal dealings within the underworld.
As a small-time mafia boss, he'd naturally been involved in such activities—collecting protection fees, running underground businesses at night.
So if he kept living like this, nothing would change. He'd stay locked into the path of the mafia world.
But if he made a change, he might break free of these so-called "chains."
He was starting to understand the metaphor. For people in the mafia, escaping wasn't easy.
Their past records, identity files, and everything the government had on them—all of it was like shackles binding them to the underworld. A perfect metaphor.
Still, Light wasn't particularly bothered by the idea of escaping.
He craved status, power, and money. He'd spent most of his life clawing his way up to his current position.
But if his daughter really did possess the power of prophecy, maybe—just maybe—he could climb even higher.
Maybe… even becoming one of the Ten Dons wasn't so far-fetched.
And yet, what about the "distant blue sky" mentioned in the poem?
What drew him wasn't the literal blue sky, but the word "distant"—the unknown possibilities it represented. Could this be a rare opportunity?
Kevin had left too deep an impression on him. So many heavily armed bodyguards had been powerless before Kevin—unable to even resist.
Even the Ten Dons' families had tried to recruit Kevin, yet he couldn't care less. As if the Ten Dons meant nothing to him.
Of course, Light didn't realize that Saro and the Ten Dons weren't actually equals. His own position was too low to know that.
Still, Light couldn't help but think—what would it matter if he became one of the Ten Dons? In front of someone like Kevin, would that status even mean anything?
His heart wavered with uncertainty.
But his instincts—honed after years of climbing the criminal world—told him this could be a rare chance.
Unfortunately, there were too many unknowns. Too much chaos clouding his thoughts.
No matter. There was still time… time to think it all through…
—
In a hotel elsewhere.
"He refused?"
"Tch. Doesn't know what's good for him."
"Do it the way we discussed. Hire those guys and bring him back—by force if you have to." Saro hung up the call, massaging his temples in frustration.
So what if Kevin won a few matches above the 200th floor of Heaven's Arena? That's no big deal.
This time, the men he hired had all made names for themselves at the Arena. With several of them attacking together, there's no way Kevin could escape so easily.
Saro thought he'd already been generous—Kevin had always had money, resources, freedom. He'd never asked for much or tried to control him.
Such a lenient working relationship, and this was how Kevin repaid him?
Hmph. He wouldn't be so forgiving this time.
If Kevin got dragged back, he'd make sure he'd never leave again.
—
Meanwhile, Kevin had spent the last few days in Youkexin City.
In that time, he'd collected quite a few interesting materials. Some were simply novel, but two or three of them sparked a deeper desire in him.
That was enough. A nice surprise.
"Time to head out."
By his calculations, there were only about ten days left until the agreed date. It would take a few days to travel by airship.
Kevin preferred to arrive early—it let him face whatever came next with calm and preparation.
After buying his ticket, he waited quietly for departure.
—
Back at the hospital.
Broken bones don't heal quickly. Light still lay in bed, his face even more haggard than before.
He had spent the past few days obsessively thinking over that question.
Knock knock!
There was a knock on the door, but before he could respond, it was pushed open.
Several strange-looking individuals walked in, each radiating an ominous, cold aura.
Light frowned deeply as he sensed their unconcealed malice.
He knew instantly—these were not people he could afford to mess with.
"You're Light?" the man in the lead asked coldly. "We have some questions for you."
patreon.com/HRT862 for 20 chapters ahead