The Sonar family house glittered under crystal chandeliers. Laughter and champagne flowed freely through the marble halls as guests celebrated Charlotte Sonar's latest charity achievement. Designer dresses swished past priceless paintings. Diamond jewelry caught the light with every movement.Mavis Donard moved through the crowd, dressed in a waiter's uniform. He carried a silver tray of champagne flutes, weaving between clusters of wealthy guests who barely noticed him."Isn't that the Sonar's son-in-law?" a woman whispered behind her hand."Poor thing," her companion replied with manufactured sympathy.Mavis kept his expression neutral. He'd learned over three years that reacting only made things worse. The whispers followed him everywhere in this house. They always had.He approached a group near the grand staircase, offering drinks with a polite nod. Most took glasses without acknowledgment. To them, he was just another servant. The fact that he was married to their host's daughte

Mavis woke to the sound of shouting.His body ached from sleeping on the thin cot. For a moment, he lay still, staring at the cracked ceiling of the servants' quarters. The events of last night felt like a nightmare. The divorce announcement, Charlotte's ring hitting the floor and Lugar's arm around her waist.But the shouting downstairs told him it was all real.He sat up slowly, every muscle protesting. His head pounded. He hadn't slept more than an hour, his mind churning through questions that had no answers. How long had Lugar been alive? Why had he hidden? What did he want?The shouting grew louder. The voice clearly sounded angry.Mavis pulled on the only decent clothes he owned—a pair of dark slacks and a button-down shirt, both worn thin from years of use. His hands shook as he buttoned the shirt. Something felt wrong. The energy in the house was different today. He needed to talk to Knuckles Sonar. Charlotte's father had always been cold, yes, but he'd shown Mavis small mom

The rain slowed, then stopped.Mavis lay in the alley, his body was glowing faintly beneath the torn, blood-soaked shirt. The blue light pulsed under his skin like electricity through wires. Inside his mind, a voice rang out, calm, robotic and absolute.[Host identified: Mavis Donard.][Scanning humiliation data… Accumulated: 1,247 instances.][Betrayal Severity: MAXIMUM.][Initializing Vengeance Protocol.]Mavis's fingers twitched. The voice wasn't just speaking to him, it was doing something deeper. Rewiring him and reconstructing him from the inside out.Then he felt a sharp pain, a searing agony erupted through his entire body. Every nerve ending screamed at once. His back arched off the wet pavement. He tried to scream but no sound came out at first—his throat was too raw, his lungs too damaged.Then he found his voice when he screamed from the pains.His hands clawed at the ground, nails scraping against concrete. But underneath the agony, something else was rising. Something im

The morning sun rises over New Harbor, painting the skyline in shades of gold. It's a funny irony, considering Mavis now owns literal tons of that gold. He sits in a nearly empty café on the edge of downtown, his hoodie pulled up, with a laptop open on the scratched table. The screen glows with financial data streaming across multiple windows through a stolen network line.[Mission 2: Establish a Financial Entity.][Objective: Begin silent acquisition of Sonar Corporation debts.][Sub-Mission: Locate the other four vaults and recover Donard family assets.]His fingers move across the keyboard with precision the old Mavis never possessed. The Enhanced Intelligence flows through him like electricity, guiding every click, every calculations and every decision. Numbers make perfect sense now and market patterns reveal themselves like obvious paths through a maze.The name "Phoenix Holdings" appears on his screen—a shell corporation he'd registered an hour ago. Multiple layers of offshore

The Lawrence Grand Hotel hosts the annual New Harbor Elite Gala—a night where business sharks and big names flaunt their wealth and influence. Crystal chandeliers cast golden light across marble floors. Champagne flows endlessly. Designer gowns and tailored suits fill every corner.The Sonars still attend, they are desperate to appear stable despite their collapsing company. They need to project strength, find new investors, convince everyone the rumors are exaggerated.Charlotte wears her most expensive dress—midnight blue with diamonds at the throat. She forces smiles as she moves through the crowd, her face was a perfect mask. Lugar clings to her arm, pretending confidence he doesn't feel. Enid does the same, laughing too loud at jokes that aren't funny.Then a new face arrives at the entrance.He's wearing a sleek black suit, perfectly tailored to his frame. His stride is calm and measured. His expression was unreadable. He radiates power and wealth the way others radiate perfume.