The moment the West patriarch finished speaking, Patricia's parents exchanged a swift, silent glance. The heavy weight of what had just been said hung thick between them. They stood stunned, disappointed, and bordering on disgusted by the entire situation, yet completely trapped by their own secrets. There was something they couldn't possibly reveal to the patriarch. Patricia had already written the letter and sealed it—a formal dismissal canceling the betrothal between herself and Derek, drafted long before he ever set foot back in Blue Lake City. Neither of her parents dared to mention it now. They knew the patriarch too well; if he discovered that Patricia had secretly tried to sever a bond sealed years ago alongside Derek's father, his fury would be absolute, targeting not just Patricia but them for permitting it. So they maintained their silence. Their silence, however, was far from acceptance. They still viewed Derek as a useless burden, a nobody who had resurfaced after fiftee

Derek listened to the West patriarch's proposal without saying a word, already knowing how this experiment was going to end. It was never going to work. No matter how much heart the old man put into dragging the two of them together, Derek knew there was no future between him and Patricia.Perhaps things might have turned out differently if that formal letter of rejection had never landed in his hands. Perhaps he would have considered the arrangement with a slightly open mind. But after everything he had witnessed since returning, his decision was made. Patricia's atrocious attitude was more than enough to turn him away. The condescension dripping from her voice, her insufferable arrogance, and the casual way she looked down on anyone she deemed inferior was a complete mismatch for him.Having spent fifteen grueling years on a mountain learning discipline, patience, humility, and self-control, Derek had crossed paths with individuals of extraordinary power who felt no need to trumpet

The moment Derek walked out of the room, the West patriarch’s expression hardened. Turning toward Marcus, he let out a heavy sigh. "Marcus.""Yes, Grandfather West?" Marcus stepped forward attentively."Can you talk to your friend?" The old man leaned back slowly against his chair, his voice firm and unyielding. "Talk to Patricia. Tell her not to mess this up. This is a very good opportunity for this family, and it is an opportunity for her as well. She needs to understand that. This arrangement was agreed upon many, many years ago. It was not something we decided yesterday. Your family knows about it, our family knows about it, and Derek's father and I agreed to it."Marcus nodded quietly. "I understand.""No," the patriarch countered, fixing him with an intense gaze. "I need you to make her understand. I know she listens to you. She may argue with her parents, she may argue with me, but she listens to you. Please do. Tell her not to push me to the point where I become very angry wit

Derek felt his phone vibrate against his palm and looked down immediately.A message had just arrived from Master Zachariah containing the address he had promised to send, along with a single line directly underneath:PASSCODE: ZEBRADerek stared at the screen for a second, quietly committing both the address and the code to memory. When his eyes returned to the address, a faint flicker of recognition passed through him. He knew this place. Even before his trek to the mountain, long before the catastrophe that broke the Morrison family changed the trajectory of his life, he had heard whispers of this estate. It was already considered extraordinary back then, a place reserved strictly for the nation's most powerful and wealthy elite.According to the rumors he had caught wind of since returning to the city, the entire estate had recently undergone a massive overhaul. The property had been completely redesigned and rebuilt with even higher levels of luxury: sprawling mansions, private a

Before Derek could utter another word, the security guard pressed on, apparently determined to lay out the full scale of the estate's standards."And if you're aiming for a higher position, something advanced, the criteria get even harsher," he said, gesturing vaguely toward the mansions beyond the iron gate. "Take a messenger job for one of the top families, for instance, especially someone operating around the main administrative block. You'd need a guarantor with no less than twenty million dollars in their bank account."Derek stood in place, listening without interrupting."And you'd better be driving a 2025 model at minimum," the guard added, taking another slow, calculating look at Derek's clothes. "That's just the baseline here."His colleague nodded along, shifting his weight. "So, as you can see, you don't even qualify for the entry-level jobs, let alone the advanced ones."The first officer let out a long sigh, adjusting his stance as if attempting to offer genuine, friendl