Novels by De Scripter

The long awaited day of pickup finally arrived. For days, the team had been preparing for this moment. Training had grown more intense, conversations had become shorter, and everyone at the Scofield estate understood that once Michael, Adrian, and Isaac left for Aurora City, things would become uncertain. No one knew exactly what awaited them in the arena. Early that morning, the three fighters left the estate and headed toward the designated pickup point that had been provided by the tournament organizers. The location was strange. It was far away from the city, somewhere beyond the outer highways where the land slowly turned quiet and empty. The road stretched wide and smooth across open fields, cutting through the land like a long gray ribbon. There were no buildings nearby, no houses, and no sign of human activity for miles. Their van was parked on the side of the wide road, its engine turned off as the group waited patiently. Michael stood near the front of the vehicle with

The sun had already begun to dip below the horizon when Michael and Celia finally left the specialized training facility.They had spent nearly the entire day there. Celia had trained alongside him for part of the day, though she spent more time observing and assisting rather than engaging directly. Occasionally, she would offer small suggestions or remind Michael to take a break when he pushed himself too hard. By the time they finally returned to the car, both of them were exhausted. The drive back to the estate was quiet, night had already begun settling across the countryside by the time they reached the main gates. The guards recognized their vehicle immediately and waved them through without delay. Michael and Celia entered the meeting room together. Barry stood near the console, reading the new information with a puzzled expression. “There you two are…” He said when he noticed them. “More rules just dropped.” Michael stepped closer to the screen while Celia moved beside

Meanwhile in Terra. The atmosphere inside Mira’s strategy chamber felt far less composed. The glowing screens displayed the same tournament rules Michael had just read, but Mira looked like she had already grown tired of staring at them. She finally pushed her chair back and stood up. “All these rules are overloading my brain.” She complained and rubbed her temple as she stepped away from the screen. “As if I don’t already have enough rules to deal with.” Jace walked over and handed her a bottle of water. “You should take it easy, team leader.” Mira scoffed immediately, “Yeah, right.” She twisted the cap off the bottle and took a small drink before tossing it back onto the table. “I’m handing that over to you.” Jace blinked, “Really?” Mira shrugged casually, “Yes. Why?” Jace scratched the back of his neck with his mechanical arm, the metal fingers lightly tapping against the joint as he thought. “It’s just…” He said slowly and looked at her. “You never leave decisions to me u

Hours later, the list of participating cities continued to grow. The digital screen in the Scofield estate meeting room refreshed repeatedly as new territories accepted the invitation. What had started as a small list of fifteen names slowly climbed higher until it finally settled at twenty confirmed cities. The moment the twentieth entry appeared, the system updated automatically. A new tab opened beneath the list. Tournament Rules… Adrian leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table as the first set of rules began scrolling across the screen. “Here we go.” The first rule appeared clearly in bold lettering. Each city would send three fighters to represent their territory. A small diagram appeared beside the text, illustrating a three-person team structure. One position was highlighted above the other two, this was the Team Leader. The person occupying that position would be responsible for making tactical decisions during the tournament. They would determine who

“She’ll bite for sure…” Barry continued nervously. “Mira’s desperate for supplies right now. If Michael passes on this invitation, she’ll enter without hesitation.” Max bit his lower lip. “And if she wins, which we all know she will..” He didn’t finish the sentence, Adrian did. “She gets access to Aurora’s technology network.” Max nodded grimly. “That would undo everything we’ve worked for. We’ve spent months cutting her off from resources. If she gets those supplies, it’s like starting the entire war over again.” Adrian slowly looked toward Michael. “No.” He said firmly. “We can’t let that happen.” Then he shrugged slightly. “But it’s not our call.” He pointed at Michael. “It’s up to our general here.” Everyone in the room looked at Michael, his fists slowly tightened at his sides. He hated everything about this, he had no interest in entertaining rich spectators looking for violent amusement, nor did he want to play into the government’s manipulative strategy. But Mira… That w

Scofield Estate. One week rolled by and the study was quiet for once. The war had turned the estate into a constant hive of activity, soldiers moving in and out, commanders debating logistics, maps constantly shifting with new information, but this room remained one of the few places where silence still existed. Michael leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple slowly… Even small victories felt exhausting now. The borders had remained sealed longer than anyone expected, and although that had crippled several supply chains across the region, it had also placed pressure on everyone trapped inside those borders…Including him. He was just beginning to enjoy the rare quiet when his phone vibrated against the wooden desk. His eyes narrowed when Mira’s name flashed across the screen. His mind immediately ran through possibilities. Maybe a trap? Mira was unpredictable, but she wasn’t stupid. A call could easily be used to trace his signal, gather data, or even attempt to tap into the

Alex swirled the champagne in his glass and smiled at the couple before him—so dazzled, so unaware.“I’d love to meet your son,” Alex said warmly. “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”Charlotte Walts—elegant, graceful, and far too eager—clasped her hands with delight. “You’re such a remarkable young man, Alex. If you could mentor him… oh, what a blessing that would be.”Alex grinned. “I’ll try my best. It’s only fair we help each other, isn’t it?”The way they laughed, as if they had known each other for years, amused Alex to no end. Moments ago, they had tried to judge him. Now they wanted their son to become like him.Mr. Walts, quiet and brooding beside his overly eager wife, finally spoke. “Forgive me, but you never mentioned—who are your parents again?”The smile on Alex’s face tightened slightly. He turned to face the man directly, holding his gaze with sharp amusement gleaming in his eyes.There was something about that look—quiet, commanding, dangerous—that made Mr. Walts shi

The chancellor’s residence was aglow with opulence. Hidden beneath the pretense of celebration, the party was less about champagne and music and more about silent power plays and whispered alliances. As Dustin had warned, this wasn’t just a party—it was a decoy. A gathering of power brokers masked as a social event. Politics in pearls. Deals in tuxedos.Alex stood by the grand entrance, eyes scanning the crowd. Dressed in a deep navy three-piece suit tailored to perfection, he looked nothing like the boy who woke up that morning being called “Errand Boy.” His hair was slicked back, his posture confident, and his aura undeniable. He wasn’t just attending this event. He was owning it.He tugged slightly at his lapel and exhaled.This morning, he was invisible.This afternoon, he was humiliated.By night, he was a multimillionaire, the largest shareholder of one of the most powerful banks in the city, and the proud owner of a suit most people in this room couldn’t afford without selling

The city’s air tasted different when Alex stepped out of the bank—sweeter, fresher, laced with a buzz that only the wealthy understood. He wasn't just some broke, errand-running clown anymore. He was now the secret owner of Heritage Finance Bank, and with $10 million resting quietly in his account, the world suddenly looked like his playground.Still, despite the triumph swelling in his chest, his heart was not without its tremors. Uncle Tony’s cryptic remarks had shaken something loose inside him. And Sandra’s quiet warning had left him a little unsettled. Something was brewing. And then, there was Gwen.The thought of her made him grin. Gwen, with her sharp tongue, soft curls, and mysterious allure—she was nothing like Emily. Emily may have dropped him like trash that morning, but now, a girl far more beautiful and influential wanted to go on a date with him. And even more intriguing, Gwen might hold keys to the secrets surrounding his parents’ deaths.But first things first: he nee

Down at the reception, Sandra was a woman on a mission. She had just returned from the restroom, where she'd caked on a fresh layer of makeup—foundation, highlighter, and a lipstick so glossy it could blind an unsuspecting victim. She’d adjusted her dress higher and tighter, the neckline a little lower now, the curves more pronounced. Every step she took was a calculated swing of hips.She positioned herself right by the elevator, her perfume cloud thick enough to announce her presence before her words ever could. A few colleagues threw her mocking glances. One of them, Babara, rolled her eyes and muttered just loud enough, “And the parade begins.”Sandra scoffed, tossing her freshly ironed curls. “Y’all can hate all you want. But I wasn’t born to suffer,” she said, popping her gum as she spoke. “I’m too fine to be struggling. I don’t want to work hard—I want to be spoiled. Period.”The girls behind the counter burst into quiet laughter. “And what now? You want to trap another man l

Alex sat stiffly in the massive executive chair, the black leather cushioning swallowing his wiry frame. The contrast between the opulence of the room and his comical clown costume made him feel like a misplaced joke in a billionaire’s office. Still, he sat up straight, eyes locked on the man across the sleek mahogany desk—the President of Heritage Finance Bank, Mr. Godwin Taylor.A soft knock came on the door. Gwen stepped in, heels clicking sharply against the polished floors. She carried a crystal flute filled with a golden, bubbling liquid.“Dom Pérignon,” she said with a charming smile as she handed the glass to Alex. “The most expensive champagne in the building.”“Thank you,” Alex said, his voice unsure. Her fingers lingered slightly as she passed him the drink, and when their eyes met, she smiled again—this time, slower, deeper, as if she could see something beneath the clown paint.Taylor cleared his throat. “Thank you, Gwen. You may excuse us.”She nodded and exited, leaving

There were gasps all over as Sandra fell.After a second, just as she was scrambling to get up, they all burst into laughter. It was such an embarrassing situation for her and extremely funny to those watching.“What, Sandra, did you see a ghost on the computer?” Someone jabbed.Everyone laughed harder.Alex remained composed as he watched everything unfold—even though he too wanted to laugh.Of course it was funny to him. He knew what had just happened:Sandra had just confirmed exactly how much he was worth and realized she was in hot water.He watched silently as she finally got up, tried to straighten the embarrassment out of her attire, and then moved towards her computer with shame and defeat etched very visibly on her face.Sandra's heart was beating fast; she couldn't hear herself think.God, what have I done?She tried to keep her raging thoughts out of her expression as she refreshed the computer again, but Alex could see that she was trembling slightly.Sandra prayed that s