Home / System / Chosen By The System To Play God / Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Seven
Chapter Two Hundred Seventy-Seven
Author: Menz Raider
last update2026-08-10 22:10:56

The Rolls Royce shot out of the Redwyne estate like it had forgotten it was ever built for comfort. Adrian Blood gripped the wheel, determined to facilitate this rescue mission. The wheel turned itself, the pedals worked themselves, and all he had to do was watch the red arrow on his floating map screen, chasing it down the dark arteries of London. But he wasn't satisfied with that, he needed to push the gas himself.

"Virus, how far ahead are they?"

"Ninety seconds and closing. I have adjusted
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  • Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-Two

    James Halton had expected sirens. He had expected handcuffs, a holding cell, perhaps a lawyer explaining to him the many charges that came with attempted murder against a man of Sebastian Waters' standing. Instead, when Sebastian Waters lifted his phone and made a call right there in the narrow tiled restroom, all James Halton heard was a single, calm instruction."Table for two. My usual booth. We'll be there within the hour.""You're not calling the police," James Halton said, bewildered, his mind still scrambling to catch up with the situation. By now, he was supposed to be arraigned before angry and aggressive officers who would gladly do anything to kiss the legs of any billionaire who calls at them. He was supposed to be surrounded by the enforcers of the city law who are always so eager to please their rich masters."Why would I do that?" Sebastian Waters slid his phone back into his pocket and gestured toward the door, where the guards who had blocked his escape now simply ste

  • Chapter Two Hundred Ninety-One

    James Halton ran cold water over his face, again and again, trying to wash away the tremor that had settled into his hands. He did not hear the door open behind him. To his suprise, it was the same man whom he had only just gotten away from.Sebastian Waters stepped up to the sink beside him without a word, rolling his sleeves further up his forearms, and began washing his own hands as casually as though the two of them were simply two strangers sharing a moment of quiet in a busy day.James Halton's pulse spiked. No guards. No children. No witnesses at all in this narrow, tiled room, just the two of them and the sound of running water. The man's head was bent, attention fixed on his own hands, utterly unguarded.This was the moment. If it was going to happen, it had to happen now.James Halton's fingers found the dagger's hilt beneath his sleeve, his weight shifting almost imperceptibly, every instinct from years of training aligning toward the single motion that would end this."How

  • Chapter Two Hundred Ninety

    The novice guard had been keeping an eye on the cleaner, his gut feeling telling him that something was wrong with his presence. That he might be here for something else. And so far, his suspicions had only grown stronger as it seemed that James Halton was paying more attention to the CEO as he tended to the kids than he was paying any attention to his supposed duty. Even though he was stationed near the orphanage's entrance, he stepped forward the moment James Halton seemed to be approaching Sebastian Waters, his hands raised in polite but firm request. "I'll need to check your bag, sir."James Halton muttered. "This are only my equipments for my job.""I know, sir. But I still have to check." The guard said, more demanding.The two guards still outside shook their heads in near frustration, again questioning the over zealous nature of the new guy but with nothing to say this time around. James Halton could hear them whispering among themselves, expressing their opinions on the matte

  • Chapter Two Hundred Eighty-Nine

    The two days given by James Halton's client did not reach before he made his move many years ago. Infact, it was the very next day after his meeting with the woman. The address led James Halton to the far end of the city, past neighborhoods that grew progressively poorer with every passing block until he reached a stretch of slums that the rest of Ravendale seemed determined to forget existed at all. Children ran barefoot through streets lined with rusted metal and sagging wooden structures, their laughter strange and stubborn against the backdrop of such visible poverty. Maybe joy had simply refused to notice how little it had to work with. Or maybe there was something else which he had failed to notice.He found the orphanage exactly where the folder said it would be, a low building with a freshly painted sign despite the crumbling walls around it, and he approached in the plain gray uniform of a cleaning contractor, a disguise chosen specifically because nobody ever looked twice at

  • Chapter Two Hundred Eighty-Eight

    Even as time passed, James Halton remained in the same position. The darkness of the place had simmered a little, leaving his thoughts to wander into the darkest compartments of his past.Twenty three years earlier, James Halton had walked out of military school with a certificate in one hand and a duffel bag in the other, expecting to come home to a proud mother. What he found instead was a woman half the size he remembered, curled beneath a thin blanket in a hospital bed that smelled of antiseptic and whatnot, looking wasted."Cancer," the doctor told him, in the corridor outside her room, a news worse than any he had ever received. "Advanced. I am sorry, son. Months, if we are fortunate. Might even be weeks, if the gods are evil."James Halton had remained in that corridor for a long time after the doctor walked away, staring at nothing, trying to reconcile the strength it had taken this woman to raise him alone, to work three jobs and skip her own meals so that he could eat, to se

  • Chapter Two Hundred Eighty-Seven

    The bar sat in a part of the city that did not officially exist on any map, tucked between two buildings so nondescript that most people walked past the alley entrance a hundred times without ever noticing the door was there at all. Inside, the lighting was dim by design, amber bulbs casting long shadows across empty tables and untouched chairs, the whole place in a creepy form of silence.Only the bartender stood at his post, represented by the shape of a stranger man in the far corner of the room, polishing glasses and whatnot. This he had been doing for the past hour.The man who entered carried a briefcase, black leather, unremarkable. It was the kind that could have belonged to any traveling salesman or mid level bureaucrat. He moved through the room without hesitation, slowly with calculated steps and each one an act of theatre. He settled into the chair across from the only occupied table.James Halton sat waiting, his suit pressed to a sharpness that seemed out of place in the

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