Chapter One-Hundred and Sixty-OneBy 5:30 p.m., the industrial horizon of the North District was painted in a grim, bruised shade of orange. Towering smokestacks belched thick, grey plumes into the fading light, and the heavy, metallic tang of rusted iron and cheap diesel fuel hung low in the stagnant air.Adrian Vale stood inside the cavernous, grease-stained bay of the municipal commercial yard, wiping a thick layer of carbon from his forearms with a rag. His shift was finally over. For the past eight hours, he had been deep in the underbelly of a heavy-duty transit grid, his hands moving with the methodical ease of a master mechanic. To the other laborers shouting across the concrete floor, he was just a quiet, unbothered guy who didn't talk much but could fix a seized hydraulic valve faster than anyone else in the province.“Hey, Adrian!” a burly older mechanic yelled, tossing his wrench into a metal chest. “A group of us are heading over to the tavern down the street for a couple

Chapter One-Hundred and Sixty-Three“Master Vale!” Black Bear choked out, desperately turning his head while keeping his chest low to the ground. “Please… give us a chance to atone! Master Tiger is on his way to the North District headquarters right now. He is ready to chop off his own hand to show his loyalty!”Adrian paused by the driver-side door of his truck. He rested his arm on the rusted roof, his dark eyes reflecting the cold, distant lights of the high-rise buildings in the South District.“Tell Tiger to keep his hand,” Adrian said smoothly, his voice carrying an unbothered, detached authority. “A severed hand won't fix the ledger. If he wants to keep his life, he needs to clean up the mess that the Noble family left on my doorstep.”Black Bear frantically nodded, his face smeared with tears. “Yes! Anything! Just give the command, Master!”“Alexander Noble paid you two hundred thousand dollars to break my hands and legs,” Adrian murmured, pulling open the squeaking door of hi

Chapter One-Hundred and Sixty-FiveThe air inside the Grand Pavilion Hall grew suffocatingly dense. Dr. Gerald Moore stood beneath the multi-million-dollar crystal chandeliers, his tailored Italian suit reflecting the sharp flash of high-society cameras. He adjusted his silk pocket square, his face a mask of supreme, institutional arrogance as he looked down his nose at Adrian.“Traditional arts?” Dr. Gerald sneered, his voice amplified by the acoustic design of the ballroom so that every billionaire, healthcare director, and pharmaceutical executive in the Southern Provinces could hear him clearly. “Miss Seraphina, with all due respect to the Moore Group’s charity, this is an insult to modern science. You are parading a common manual laborer and a live-in son-in-law who spends his days clearing industrial grease and calling him a physician? He used a parlor trick to find the error with the artifact purely by coincidence. It was luck, nothing more. To allow him near actual medical e

Chapter One-Hundred and Sixty-SevenThe thick, heavy glass doors of the Grand Pavilion Hall closed behind the Andrew family, cutting off the frantic murmurs of Cape City’s elite. The cool, salt-kissed air of the marina rushed over them, but it did nothing to cool the raging, silent storm brewing inside the luxury sedan on the drive back to the villa.Uncle Andrew gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned a bloodless white. In the passenger seat, Aunt Martha stared straight ahead, her chest heaving as she gripped her designer purse like a lifeline. She was suffocating in her own rage. Ten million dollars. Ten. Million. Dollars. Their brainless, live-in son-in-law had casually turned his back on a sum that could have elevated their entire household into a completely different social tier.Yet, every time Martha opened her mouth to scream, her eyes would catch Adrian’s reflection in the rearview mirror. He was sitting in the back seat, casually staring out the window a

Chapter One-Hundred and Sixty-NineLina’s brow furrowed, a heavy weight settling into her chest. She knew her grandmother’s cold, ruthless nature all too well. Sophia had never acknowledged Adrian as a human being, let alone a grandson-in-law. For her to suddenly demand his presence meant only one thing: a trap was being laid in front of them.“Mother, if Grandmother is planning to use Adrian to flatter the elite, I won't go,” Lina said firmly, her fingers tightening around her laptop strap.“Lina, it’s fine,” Adrian spoke up softly, his rural drawl completely calm as he handed her a warm cup of tea and a small, neatly wrapped breakfast pastry. He smiled gently, his eyes entirely steady. “Family is family. It’s her 70th birthday. It would look inappropriate if we didn't show our respects. Besides, I should prepare a proper birthday gift for the matriarch.”Martha let out a sharp, involuntary cough, nearly choking on her coffee. She wanted to mock him—to scream that a cheap mechanic’s