Sean Alexander’s eyes snapped open.A faint sapphire glow flickered in his pupils for a split second before fading back into deep brown. He jolted upright. His lungs gasped for the freezing night air as if he had just breached the surface after drowning.The first thing he felt was not pain, but a suffocating silence.Sean panted. His hands frantically clawed at his chest, which should have been a mess of broken ribs. There was nothing. There was no pain. He sat up on the slick, filthy asphalt while his breath came in white plumes of vapor."I’m... I’m alive?" he whispered. His voice was hoarse and trembling.He lifted the hand that Viktor’s guard had stomped into pulp. Under the flickering amber glow of the streetlamp, the hand looked whole. There was no blood and no protruding bone. There was not even a dull ache. There was only a faint red coin-shaped symbol etched into his palm, looking as if his skin had been branded by a hot iron."I’m dead," Sean let out a dry, nearly hysterica

The man stepped into the lobby of the St. Regal Hotel with stiff shoulders. He could feel the contemptuous glares from the uniformed security guards standing by the revolving glass doors. With his torn courier jacket, mud-caked jeans, and the faint lingering scent of sewage, he looked like a dark stain amidst the luxury of the lobby, which was clad in pristine white Carrara marble.A lobby manager in a sharp suit immediately intercepted him before Sean could even get close to the reception desk."Pardon me, sir. This area is for hotel guests only. If you are here to deliver a package, please use the rear entrance," the manager said. His tone was coated in fake politeness, but his eyes radiated a disgust that he could not hide.Sean did not look down this time. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two hundred-dollar bills. He dropped them onto a small tray in the manager’s hand."This is for the cost of cleaning my muddy tracks off your floor. And I want the best suite avai

"Ten thousand dollars for a dull bowl? You must be out of your mind, Mr. Sean Alexander."Isabella Moretti stared at the tea bowl inside the wooden box with doubt as they sat in the cabin of the Rolls-Royce, gliding through the city streets. Sean, who was adjusting the watch on his wrist, only offered a calm smile. The man’s aura had transformed completely. Not a single trace remained of the hunched-over courier with the lingering scent of sweat.Sean’s transformation had begun the moment he stepped out of 'The Sovereign' boutique earlier that afternoon. He had spent eight thousand five hundred dollars on a three-piece suit custom-stitched with dark silk thread. He did not hesitate to drop another three thousand two hundred dollars on a pair of Oxford shoes made from Italian calfskin, a craft that took hundreds of hours to complete. Not stopping there, he had visited a renowned salon, wanting to showcase a new hairstyle. That treatment, of course, did not come cheap.Combined with the

The atmosphere inside the cabin of the Rolls-Royce carrying Sean back to the St. Regal Hotel was profoundly silent, yet filled with an unspoken tension. Isabella Moretti sat beside him, still motionless, gazing at the profile of Sean’s face illuminated by the rapidly passing streetlights. This man was no longer the courier she had met by the roadside yesterday. There was an aura of power that felt tangibly radiated from his every movement."You just robbed Viktor Vane of half his pride and secured a half-million-dollar check in a single night, Sean," Isabella finally spoke, breaking the silence with a slightly raspy voice. "I have never seen any man make Viktor look that pathetic in front of his own colleagues."Sean turned, the corner of his lips curling into a thin, mysterious smile. "The world is merely a stage, Isabella. I just happened to hold a better script tonight."The car slowed to a halt in front of the luxurious St. Regal lobby. The chauffeur stepped out to open the door,

The morning sunlight crept through the gaps in the thin curtains of the secret apartment unit in Sector 5. Sean Alexander did not stay at the hotel again. His body was exhausted from the sheer excitement of the previous night. He woke up with a long, deep breath. A smile spread across his face; as usual this time, he did not wake up to a blaring alarm or the fear of overdue bills. He woke up with a new, burning spirit, no longer the underestimated loser.He dreamed of his childhood, a beautiful and peaceful dream. However, when his eyes opened, the reality he faced was far more fantastic than any dream could ever be. Sean reached for his phone lying on the dull wooden table beside the bed.Click.[Main Account Balance: $6,300,000][System Status: Active - Awaiting Further Instructions]Sean chuckled softly. The view inside this room—the peeling walls and the creaking wooden floors—felt so out of place compared to the long string of zeros on his phone screen. He looked like a jobless b