The boy, Victor was arrogant. He snorted, looking the other way like it didn't concern him.The attendants, emboldened by his actions, went silent too.Hamas glared at them, his body shaking in anger as he hugged his sister close.He had just taken his eyes off her for a second, and this had happened."What's going on here?" The manager and the boy's mother, Lilian stepped forward, noticing the quiet gathering.Quick to spin the story, one of the attendants spoke up. "Manager Beckett, you won't believe what happened in the show room. This girl here had the audacity to spill water and also break the proclein cup used for serving the guests, and out of anger, I lashed at her, but who knew she would come out here and cry wolf to her brothers."Beckett looked between Victor and the crying cherry with a frown. "Is that true?"His voice was hard, and clearly he dismissed Arthur and Hamas all together.Arthur noticed, his eyes flashing slightly.Beckett didn't care if the story was false or

Arthur held the shard of porcelain delicately between his fingers, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Ever since he had acquired the system, the faintest inconsistencies, the smallest marks, even invisible to the untrained eye, became painfully obvious. This shard—tiny, almost insignificant—told him everything he needed to know.Red sand. Faint traces along the base, subtle scratches along the glaze—definitive signs of modern reproduction, not an antique.He almost smirked, but his face remained perfectly neutral. He wanted them unsettled, not certain.The crowd murmured, the whispers stretching into scoffs.“Ha! What’s he doing with a tiny piece like that?” one attendant whispered loudly enough to carry.“Probably trying to play expert. A child could tell it’s not a real Ming cup,” another sneered, shaking his head.“Con artist,” someone muttered. “Probably been scamming people his whole life—what a joke.”Hamas stood stiffly at Arthur’s side, chest tightening with each tick of the

“Beg.”The word landed, and the room seemed to forget how to breathe.Gasps rippled outward in waves. Not loud—restrained, shocked, the kind elites made when something crossed a line they didn’t know existed. Lilian froze mid-stride, her lips parting slightly, eyes snapping to Arthur as if she had misheard.“Excuse me?” she said sharply.Before Arthur could answer, a calm, aged voice cut through the tension.“Can someone explain what is going on here?”All heads turned.Hamster Tom had stepped forward, his expression composed but curious. Beside him, Professor Elias Tom rested his cane lightly against the floor, sharp eyes sweeping over the shattered porcelain, the kneeling attendant’s retreating figure, and the strained faces of the crowd.The weight of their presence shifted the atmosphere instantly.Lilian reacted faster than anyone.She straightened, fury replaced with practiced indignation, and pulled Victor close to her side. “Professor Tom, this man is bullying my son,” she sai

Lilian slammed the car door harder than necessary.The sound echoed in the underground parking lot, sharp and humiliating. Her heels clicked angrily as she turned on Victor the moment they were out of sight, her composure cracking.“Do you have any idea what you caused today?” she snapped, grabbing his wrist. “I told you to behave. I told you to stay put. Why would you do something so stupid in a place like that—especially with attendants that brainless?”Victor’s eyes reddened instantly.“I—I didn’t think—” his voice trembled. “They said it was fine. They told me—”“Enough!” Lilian cut in sharply. “Those attendants are disposable. They exist to clean up messes, not create them. You should’ve known better than to let things escalate.”Her words cut deeper than she intended. Victor’s lips quivered. He lowered his head, tears pooling despite his effort to hold them back.“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered.Lilian paused, irritation flickering with discomfort. She looked away, rubbing her

Arthur stared at Beatrice’s message, his brows narrowing almost imperceptibly. The tone was unfamiliar, slightly provocative, a stark departure from the casual texts they usually exchanged. He didn’t respond. For a moment, he let the phone sit in his hand, analyzing the words, the implications. He slipped the device into his pocket, deliberately severing the conversation before it could influence his next move. Focus was necessary, restraint mandatory. Anything else could compromise the order he’d built. Mason’s words echoed in his mind as he descended the stairs. Check the land first. The system’s instructions were clear, priority overriding everything else. The award show was secondary; it could wait. Arthur mentally scheduled the inspection, calculating the time it would take and how he could still honor his promise to attend later. Hamas and Cherry would remain inside, under supervision, while he addressed the more pressing matter. Hamas walked beside Cherry down the mansion