God-Level Dominance

Chapter 007

The silence in the room was so thick you could almost feel the weight of it, like a heavy blanket pressing down on everyone’s chest. 

Mia stood there, her chest heaving as she glared at Riley, her eyes darting from his dusty sneakers to his faded shirt. To her, he was a stain on the marble floor, a piece of trash that had somehow blown into a sanctuary.

"I asked you a question, you vulture!" Mia yelled, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings. "How did you get in here? Did you crawl through the vents? Or did you steal a key from one of the workers?"

Riley just stood there. He didn't look angry, and he didn't look scared. He looked bored. 

He slowly adjusted the strap of his bag and looked around the room, his eyes lingering on the high-end furniture and the essence-cooling herbs on the table.

"I walked through the front door," Riley said flatly. "They didn't even ask for a bribe."

"Liar!" Mia hissed. She turned to the man in the white robe—the doctor who had been trying to treat the lingering effects of the beast toxin. "Doctor, please call the security detail. Tell them we have a slum rat who has lost his mind. I want him thrown out of the gates so hard he bounces back to the gutters."

The doctor, a middle-aged man with a thin mustache, looked at Riley with a sneer. "Don't worry, Lady Mia. I’ll handle this. People like this think that just because they find a shiny stone, they can walk among the elite. It’s a sickness of the lower class."

Harold, who had been sitting quietly on a leather chair while nursing his broken arm, cleared his throat. He looked at Riley, his brows knitted in thought. He remembered the kill in the beast zone—the clean, impossible strike that had ended a God-tier beast. He remembered how Riley had looked then, cool and collected while the world was falling apart.

"Mia, hold on a second," Harold said, his voice calm but firm.

"Hold on for what, Harold?" Mia snapped, turning her fire on him. "I saw him in the zone! He’s a scavenger. A thief at the very least. He probably followed us back to the city to try and extort more from us. He knows I’m a member of the prestigious Blue-Blood family. He’s looking for a payday."

"I’m just saying," Harold continued, his eyes never leaving Riley. "The gates to the S-Rank wing don't just open for anyone. You need a verified signature and a VIP essence signature. If he's standing here, someone will let him in."

"Then someone made a mistake!" Mia yelled. "Or he's used some cheap slum trick to bypass the sensors. Look at him, Harold! He’s wearing clothes that probably haven't been washed since the last century. He smells like dust and poverty. You’re telling me this... this thing belongs in the same wing as us?"

Riley let out a short, dry laugh. It wasn't a loud laugh, but it cut through Mia’s shouting like a knife.

"Is something funny to you?" the doctor asked, stepping toward Riley with his hand raised as if to strike him.

"A little bit," Riley said, looking the doctor in the eye. "You guys are making a lot of noise in my living room. I’m starting to think the neighbors might complain about the quality of the guests I’m keeping."

The room went dead silent again. The doctor froze. Mia’s jaw literally dropped.

"Your... your living room?" Mia whispered, the words sounding like they were being squeezed out of her.

Then, she burst out into a fit of mocking laughter. It was a shrill, hysterical sound. "Did you hear that, Harold? Did you hear that, Doctor? This slum rat thinks this suite belongs to him! He actually thinks he’s been assigned to the S-Rank Hermit Wing!"

The doctor joined in, shaking his head. "The delusion is strong in this one. Young man, do you even know what this room is for? We have been waiting here because this suite was reserved for the most prestigious doctor in the city—a man coming specifically to treat Lady Mia’s father. You couldn't even be a cleaner in this room, let alone the owner."

"The best doctor, huh?" Riley asked, his voice staying level. "I hope he's better at his job than you are. Because if you’re the one treating her, it’s no wonder she’s still so cranky. The toxin is still in his system, isn't it?"

The doctor’s face turned a deep purple. "How dare you! My credentials are—"

"Irrelevant," Riley cut in. "Check your ledger again. Or better yet, check the door assignment. I’m not here to blackmail you, Mia. I’m here because I live here. Now, if you’re done with your little comedy routine, I’d like to take a bath. The air in here is starting to smell like ungratefulness and bad medicine."

"You... you arrogant piece of garbage!" Mia screamed, her face flushed with a hot, red anger. "I will personally see to it that you are executed for this level of disrespect! You are a beggar! A thief! Nothing! How dare you speak to me like that!"

Harold started to say something, but his phone suddenly let out a sharp, high-pitched chime. It was a priority notification, the kind that only came from the Academy’s central administration.

He frowned, pulling the device from his pocket. Mia didn't stop her tirade. "You think because you got lucky with a dying beast that you're someone? You're a slum pig! You were spat out of the gutters and that's where you'll—"

"Mia, wait," Harold said suddenly. His voice was different now. It wasn't calm anymore. It was shaky.

Mia froze, shocked that Harold would speak to her that way in front of a commoner. "What did you just say to me?"

"The message," Harold whispered, his eyes glued to the screen. "It’s from the Dean’s office. The reservation for the S-Rank suite... it’s been updated."

The doctor sneered. "Finally, the great doctor must be arriving. Tell the slum rat to move so he doesn't get stepped on."

Harold looked up from his phone. His face was as white as a sheet. He looked at Riley, his eyes filled with a sudden, terrifying realization. He looked at Riley like he was seeing a ghost.

"The suite has been cleared out," Harold said, his voice barely audible. "It says... it says the entire Hermit Wing has been signed over for the exclusive use of one Mr. Riley."

The silence that followed was even heavier than before. It was a silence that felt like it was crushing the air out of the room.

The doctor’s sneer vanished. Mia’s eyes went wide, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. She looked at Harold, then at the phone, then at Riley.

"That’s... that’s impossible," the doctor stammered. "There must be a mistake. A system glitch. There is no way the Academy would give this wing to a... to a..."

"It’s not a glitch," Harold said, his hand trembling as he scrolled through the data.

 "The signature on the bottom... it’s not from the Dean. It’s a direct order from the Mayor’s office. It’s marked with the Royal Seal of Prince Edward’s personal guard."

Harold turned to Riley. His arrogance was gone, replaced by a deep, instinctual fear. He knew what those strings meant. To pull a move like this—to take a room reserved for an elite doctor and hand it to a teenager from the slums—required a level of power that didn't just exist in books. It was the kind of power that could erase a family overnight.

"Is your name... Riley?" Harold asked, his voice cracking.

Riley raised his brows, his expression unchanged. He looked at Harold with a bored, half-lidded gaze. "That's what my mother called me. Why? Are you finally going to ask me if I want a drink?"

Mia let out a choked sound, something between a sob and a scream. "Of course that's the name he picked! It’s a common name! Harold, don't be a fool! He probably saw the name on the door and is trying to play us! Off with his head! He should be thrown out immediately before he stains the carpet further!"

She was hysterical now. Her pride was screaming, refusing to accept the reality that was staring her in the face. She had spent the last hour calling him a rat, a pig, and a beggar. If Harold was right, she hadn't just insulted a student; she had insulted someone with the direct backing of the Crown.

"Mia, stop it!" Harold yelled, standing up despite the pain in his arm. "I’m looking at the photo attached to the file. It’s him. The facial recognition matched him the moment he stepped through the door."

He looked back at Riley, his face full of embarrassment and a growing sense of dread. "It seems... It seems he’s telling the truth. The suit is his. All of it."

The doctor fell back into a chair, his face losing all its color. He looked at Riley, then at his own medical kit, and realized he had just threatened the one person who could probably have him stripped of his license with a single phone call.

Mia stood frozen in the center of the room. She looked like a statue of defeat. The silence in the room was no longer just heavy; it was suffocating. She looked at Riley, her mouth opening and closing, but no words came out. The "trash" she had detested was now the owner of this place.