Adrian Hale had survived scandals, lawsuits, and even a disastrous stint as a Zinstagram "finance guru." But nothing prepared him for this.
The hospital bed was empty.
The monitors beeped erratically, like a malfunctioning alarm clock that refused to die, and a sticky note was stuck to the screen: "Thanks for the stay! 1/5 stars. Would not recommend. PS: Your coffee sucks. So do you."
Adrian stood frozen, staring.
He couldn't process it. Where... was she?
He had been standing right outside the ward. How did Selene just... vanish?
Bianca, standing beside him in flawless scarlet heels and a polite smile that could melt steel, demanded coldly, "Where. Is. Selene?"
Adrian stared at the empty bed again, then at the windows that were all shut from the inside. Selene had vanished into thin air, and no one had seen a thing.
It was as if the very laws of physics had been rewritten for a few minutes of total chaos.
Just then, a nurse rushed into the room, her face pale, clutching a clipboard like it was a life raft. "S-sir, ma'am, you won't believe this... but the main entrance is completely sealed shut! It... It looks like it's some kind of tech malfunction!"
The head of Sinclair's bodyguards burst inside the room at the same time, "Madame Sinclair! I don't know how else to say this, but... uh… every single camera feed now shows a loop of a dancing unicorn."
Adrian's heart sank.
Sealed exit?
A dancing unicorn?
Was it some fever dream?
Bianca, with a heavy sigh, turned her gaze to the hospital director. "Fix this."
The old man nervously wiped the sweat off his brow as his hands trembled around his phone, staring at the message he had just received like it was a death warrant. "Um, actually… madam Sinclair… the entire security network just exploded? And... our IT guy is stuck in the server room... which is on fire?"
Bianca blinked.
Dumbfounded.
Not one single thing was making sense.
What the hell was going on?
. . . . .
Ding!
[Side Quest Available]
[Slam the vintage cigar from Reynold's desk to assert dominance!]
[Reward: +20 Swagger. Boardroom intimidation boost unlocked.]
[Penalty: May trigger rare cigar ash allergy. Possible sneezing and temporary loss of elegance.]
"Are you serious?"
Selene whispered, staring at the holographic golden screen. What kind of system offers a mini-boss fight with a cigar box?
Then, her eyes flicked to the ornate cigar box between her and Raynold—rich, made with ivory and gold. It was expensive enough to buy a small country.
Reynold's jaw tightened when he noticed her gaze. For some reason, everything about the Sinclair heiress annoyed him.
"Are you planning to buy that too?" He asked in a mocking voice.
Selene simply smiled.
The side-quest was stupid, but also so simple.
And so, she casually reached for the cigar box. Reynold froze and immediately tried to stop her. His sudden movement startled Selene. She faltered. The box slipped sideways.
"Wait—" Reynold raised his voice.
Too late.
The box dropped and cracked. Its sound echoed throughout the office—and everything froze. Raynold's assistant was the first one to speak.
"Th-that was Mister Hamilton's family heirloom…" he whispered, visibly pale.
"It was the last gift Mister Hamilton's father left him before passing away…" someone else murmured from the corner, as if announcing a ghost had been angered.
Selene stood very, very still.
She glanced down at the cracked box.
Then in her hand.
Then back at the box.
"Oops. My hand slipped…" Selene forced out a smile.
Everyone stared at Selene in disbelief, wondering if this was some sick power move. She bought the group in five seconds, broke Hamilton family's heirloom in one… what next?
Setting the building on fire?
Ding!
[Side quest completed!]
[+15 Swagger Acquired! You have completely shattered the Hamilton Family's trust!]
[Aura Unlocked: "Domino Effect" — One move, twenty consequences. All of them yours!]
Selene clenched her fists. Why was this system so weird? But unfazed by the unfolding chaos, it continued to announce.
Ding!
[Reynold's Anger Level: Uncertain. Possibly volcanic!]
[Suggestion: You should run!]
Selene silently cursed the system and vowed never to trust such side quests again!
Internally, she was dying.
But from the outside, she remained as calm as an iceberg. Selene gave the room a polite nod, then turned and walked out like breaking heirlooms was part of her hobby.
Behind her, Reynold was entirely still. He was not even breathing. His father's last gift—cracked.
His company—taken.
His patience? It was fracturing.
And the woman responsible had just dropped a casual "Oops" like she was in a sitcom with a trillion-dollar budget.
. . . . .
Meanwhile, Selene made her way to a high-end car showroom—Hyperion Automotives, a place that didn't sell cars so much as it auditioned billionaires to see if they deserved to breathe near one.
Selene stepped out of the NUber Elite.
The light of the sinking sun reflected softly over her white dress.
Reynold's personal assistant, Blake—a slender, tall man with golden-rimmed glasses and the demeanor of someone who hadn't slept since the Great Depression—followed close behind.
"I have drafted all the required documents, Miss Sinclair," he said briskly as they entered the building. "We can finalize the formalities as soon as you are ready."
"Thank you, Blake."
Inside the showroom, polished marble floors gleamed like they were paid more than the staff. On display were all sorts of dream cars one could wish for—sleek and elegant Black Lotus, as well as the thunderous, hulking models named Black Death.
But what stood apart from them all was a Macbeth Furiosa. A scarlet sportscar that was all smooth curves and golden highlights. It seemed as if it was designed yb angry angels.
Selene barely glanced at the car.
It was overpriced.
Overhyped.
The kind of thing influencers posted selfies with, but never drove.
What caught her attention was the person standing beside it.
Veronica Monteverde. Platinum blonde hair falling in messy waves. She was wrapped in designer silk. Her lips were glossed, her eyebrows judgmental, and her eyes—currently—locked on Selene.
"Oh my God," Veronica said. "They let you in here?"
Selene frowned. "Are you still obsessed with me?"
Veronica's smile curled upward like smoke. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm not obsessed. I just like to keep tabs on my discarded trash."
Selene's jaw clenched.
She decided to walk away, ignore the woman who should have never been more than a bad memory. But Veronica strutted forward, hips sharp as her tongue. Her one hand snaked through Selene's arm before the latter could leave.
"I have missed you," Veronica purred. "Why are you in such a hurry to leave? Let's return to the club, we can have fun like the good old days."
Selene felt a sick feeling twist in her stomach.
Blake had a confused expression.
On the contrary, Veronica's smile grew wider. Her green eyes gleamed with malice. She had always loved playing with Selene. The daughter of her family's rival. The heiress who was supposed to have it all but was discarded like a broken toy.
Selene was the reason Veronica loved to visit the club where Selene worked.
She loved seeing Selene so pale. Broken. Desperate.
She loved ruining her life even more.
"I thought you'd be dead in a ditch by now," Veronica whispered as she leaned closer. Her eyes flicked to Blake, lingering over his watch that alone cost three million dollars.
With a smirk, Veronica whispered, "I never knew you would whore yourself for the glamorous life."
Selene felt the air thicken.
The old fear rose like bile. The helplessness, the desperation—the weight of being nothing, of being laughed at, stepped on. But under that…
Anger.
Molten. Dense.
Selene snapped coldly, "Go fuck yourself. I don't have time to waste with you!" She turned away, about to leave, but Veronica was faster.
Her fingers clamped down on Selene's wrist.
Hard.
Selene flinched. Her bones ached. Veronica's grip wasn't theatrical—it was practiced. Deadly. Taekwondo champion. National level. Five-time gold medalist.
Selene knew this. Veronica knew Selene remembered.
Blake immediately stepped forward.
"Miss Sinclair—"
He stopped. Finally realizing the eerie silence that has settled around the store. None of the staff member was looking in their direction.
No one was speaking.
No one moved.
And then, the realization dawned on him. Who could so boldly dare to humiliate the daughter of the Sinclair family like that?
Only someone from the Monteverdes would take the risk. Monteverde.
The name carried weight. Whispers. Mysterious deaths. Political connections. Old money that slithered instead of walked.
Even the Sinclairs tread carefully around them.
Selene's chest constricted.
But she let out a deep breath. She shoved down her fears and the frustrating memories of the helpless past and whispered out loud.
"How many star coins do I have?"
Veronica blinked. "What?"
A golden holographic screen flickered before Selene's eyes.
[Star Coin Balance: 52]
That was worth several billion dollars. Selene narrowed her eyes.
'Use all of them to increase strength.'
There was a small pause.
As if the System wanted to say something but after seven seconds, it chimed.
Ding!
[Transaction Complete!]
[Strength Upgraded: 5 → 20]
[Congratulations! Newfound strength is blossoming throughout your body! You can now arm-wrestle a bear!]
[New Passive Skill Unlocked: "Ain't No Damsel" – Reduces intimidation from entitled brats and taekwondo terror queens.]
Selene smiled.
Slow. Cold.
She looked down at Veronica's hand.
"You should let go now," she said gently.
Veronica scoffed. "Or what? You'll cry to your mommy"
Selene's face darkened.
And then, she twisted Veronica's wrist.
The snap of movement was fluid—Veronica's arm jerked, her balance slipped, and before she could steady herself, Selene shoved her to the ground.
Veronica fell near Selene's Prada shoes with a sharp gasp.
And somehow… the silence throughout the showing became louder all of a sudden.
It was deafening.