2025-03-14 16:05:38
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HighSchool of Billionere shadows of the past
The night breeze drifted gently through the gaps in the window, causing the white curtains to sway faintly. In the dimly lit room, Arkanza lay with steady breaths, but sweat beaded on his forehead. His usually calm face appeared slightly tense, his brows furrowed, and unconsciously, his fingers clenched atop the blanket.In his dream, he was transported back to his old life—a world he had long left behind.Arkanza stood in the center of a spacious room, a grand crystal chandelier shimmering above him. The walls were adorned with expensive paintings, and the air carried the mixed scent of cigars and the metallic tang of weapons resting in the corners.He wore a well-fitted black suit over a crisp white shirt, absent of a tie. His expression was cold, devoid of emotion.Around him, several men sat at ease, sipping red wine poured by a loyal attendant. They were his subordinates—men who had followed him through the shadows of the underworld. Among them was Dante, the burly bodyguard, Gab
HighSchool of Billionere near
The gentle breeze blew softly, carrying the scent of damp earth and aging leaves. The morning sunlight filtered through the gaps between the lush trees, creating shifting patterns of light on the protected forest floor.Arkanza walked among the group of university students participating in the study tour. Their university had organized a trip to the protected forest near campus as part of an ecology and environmental awareness program. Each student was placed in a group selected by lottery.Arkanza didn’t really care who was in his group. He just wanted to complete the trip without much trouble. However, when he glanced at the other groups, he saw Norman with his usual noisy and cheerful friends.From the beginning, Norman had looked at him with a mocking smile."Hey, look who’s strolling around with his bodyguards," Norman said in a sarcastic tone.Some of Norman’s friends laughed."Seriously, bro. You’re like a national asset. Always escorted everywhere, just like a president," one
HighSchool of Billionere factory settings
The autumn wind blew gently across the campus courtyard as Arkanza stepped into the main building. His steps were calm as always, his face devoid of any visible emotion. Today was supposed to be just another ordinary day after returning from the study tour to the protected forest. However, as soon as he opened his personal locker, something cliché happened once again.Inside the locker, where his spare clothes and a few personal belongings should have been, Arkanza found his white shirt completely shredded. Fabric scraps were scattered across the locker floor, as if someone had deliberately taken a pair of scissors and cut it into tiny pieces. Some parts were even tattered, as though they had been destroyed with pure hatred.Arkanza sighed.No surprise, no anger—just exhaustion weighing on his chest."What is this? The usual setting, huh," he muttered quietly before calmly shutting the locker door again.From the end of the corridor, Barak happened to be passing by and saw the inciden
HighSchool of Billionere unique friend
Milan stood at the edge of a tall building, directly facing Arkanza's classroom. His sharp eyes were glued to the high-tech binoculars in his hands, observing every movement inside. The morning sunlight reflected off the glass windows of the building, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. His focus remained on one thing—Arkanza.However, something else caught his attention.Barak.That guy was still lingering around Arkanza, like a shadow that refused to leave. Milan let out a sharp breath, clicking his tongue in irritation. For the past few days, Barak had been sticking close to their young master, and it made him uneasy.Beside him, Vikram sat casually on a wooden crate, enjoying his meal in peace. The plastic spoon in his hand clinked against the food container, creating a soft, repetitive sound."Arkanza will be fine," Vikram muttered between bites, not even looking up from his meal. "You're overreacting, Milan."Milan lowered his binoculars for a moment, shooting a sharp gla
HighSchool of Billionere interested
In a spacious room filled with the pounding sound of rock music and the distinct scent of gasoline, Barak sat on one of the slightly worn leather sofas. This place was his basecamp, a large warehouse that had been transformed into headquarters for the motorcycle community he led.Around him, several members of the motorcycle club were lounging—some were dismantling a motorcycle engine, others were joking around, while a few leaned back, enjoying their cold drinks."I still don’t get it," said Awan, one of his friends sitting across from Barak. He lifted a nearly empty soda can before taking a sip. "Why are you suddenly after Arkanza? I mean, you already have everything—money, a cool bike, high social status. You can be friends with anyone."Barak chuckled, placing his phone on the table before leaning back into the sofa. "I just want to be friends, bro. Is that a problem?"Awan scoffed. "With Arkanza?""Yeah.""Are you serious?""Of course," Barak replied casually, shrugging. "He caug
HighSchool of Billionere rubbish
The motorcycle club's basecamp was still filled with the pounding beats of music and casual chatter when Barak decided to leave early that night. Normally, he would stay longer, discussing race plans or just hanging out with his friends. But this time, his mind was occupied with one thing—Arkanza.As he stepped out of the large warehouse that served as their headquarters, he felt something strange. The night air was colder than usual, and there was an eerie sensation, as if someone was watching him. He paused for a moment, letting his eyes scan the surroundings. Their warehouse was in a fairly secluded area, surrounded by old, rarely occupied buildings. There was no one there except for his club members, but for some reason, his skin prickled.Quickly dismissing the feeling, Barak walked toward his motorcycle. He grabbed his helmet, but before he could put it on, something caught his attention.On the fuel tank of his bike, there was something that shouldn’t be there.A black envelope
HighSchool of Billionere at work
Barak stood in front of his bike, eyes locked onto the threatening message scrawled across the fuel tank. The paint was still fresh, its sharp scent mixing with the cool night air. Whoever did this wanted him to feel intimidated.They wanted him to stop.But they clearly didn't know who they were dealing with.Barak exhaled sharply, pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over Milan’s contact, debating whether to confront him directly. Milan was the most obvious suspect—he had the motive, the connection to Arkanza, and the possessiveness that made him capable of something like this.But if it wasn’t Milan… then who?“Yo, Barak!” One of his club members, Niko, called out from the other side of the garage. “What’s up with your ride?”Barak turned, pushing his irritation down. He had no intention of showing weakness. “Just some asshole messing around,” he said coolly.Niko walked over, his eyes narrowing at the red spray paint. “Shit. Someone’s got a grudge against you?”Barak shrugge
HighSchool of Billionere make peace
That night, after the meeting at the warehouse, Barak sat on his motorcycle, staring at the dark sky. He knew Milan and Raka were hiding something, and he wouldn’t stop until he found out what it was.If they wanted to keep him away from Arkanza, he would do the opposite.He pulled out his phone and called someone. Someone who knew more about Milan than Milan himself."I need information," Barak said as soon as the call connected. "About Milan."The person on the other end chuckled before replying, "I’m curious, Barak. Are you trying to play at a higher level?"Barak smirked. "I just want to make sure someone knows who’s really betraying him."The next day, Barak deliberately waited in front of the campus. He knew Arkanza would pass through here, and he made sure to look relaxed, as if nothing had happened.Soon enough, Arkanza appeared, accompanied by Milan and Albert.Milan immediately tensed up upon seeing Barak. His eyes narrowed as if ready to confront him.But Barak didn’t give
Latest Chapter
last end
In a vast field covered with green grass, two twin children ran joyfully. They looked like shadows chasing each other, running back and forth without getting tired. Their arms swung freely, laughing together, as if the world belonged only to the two of them.The first twin, a girl with curly hair flowing behind her, ran faster. Her face was cheerful, her pink lips stretched into a wide smile. She glanced back, seeing her sister slightly behind. "Come on, hurry up!" she shouted while laughing.Her sister, with the same bright blue eyes, tried to catch up, but her feet started to stumble little by little. Without realizing it, her steps became unstable, and eventually, she fell hard to the ground, her hands touching the dew-covered grass."Ow!" she cried out, but there was still a hint of laughter in her voice, even though there was pain in her body.The faster twin ran backward, seeing her sister fall. However, instead of helping, she just laughed. "Haha, you fell!" she said teasingly,
part 2
The Smith residence had changed. The house, once known as a place of power, luxury, and pride, had now become a house of mourning. Every room was filled with sorrow that haunted every corner. Everyone who had known Arkanza felt an overwhelming sense of loss, and tears flowed uncontrollably.The coffin placed in the center of the living room became the focal point. Arkanza’s body lay stiff inside, his once vibrant face now appearing calm, though marred with wounds. Maria, his mother, sat beside the coffin, wearing the last outfit Arkanza had worn, as if unwilling to let her son go.Around the coffin, Arkanza’s friends gathered—those who had once been part of his life, who had shared countless moments with him, now stood with bowed heads. Milan, Albert, Vikram, Barak, Valerie, Lilian, Norman, Amber, and many other relatives came to pay their final respects.Milan stood in a corner of the room, his tears streaming endlessly. There were no words he could say. His hands, usually steady and
death of arkanza
While Adam knelt on the ground, crying, he was no longer a king—but a loser who had fallen in a battle he himself had created.In the distance, police sirens wailed, signaling that the era of Adam Smith had truly ended."And I was just counting each of your sins, father," he said coldly.But for a moment, Arkanza let his guard down. A small mistake that made him underestimate the danger that came.In a matter of seconds, Adam sprang up, wild and swift, grabbing the gun lying on the floor. A loud gunshot shattered the air.Arkanza dodged, but the bullet grazed his shoulder, leaving a burning, searing wound on his skin.Adam laughed, the sound manic amidst the tense silence. "Did you think I'd just sit still?" he growled, voice thick with hatred.Arkanza gave a thin smile, suppressing the spreading pain. "I knew you wouldn't surrender that easily," he replied calmly. "But this time, you will lose."Just as Arkanza moved to strike, the back door burst open. A figure he knew all too well
next part of traitor
Everything turned into chaos.Police shouted, people scattered, and reporters chased like a pack of hungry dogs.Adam ran with all his might, cutting through narrow alleys behind the buildings, his breathing ragged, his eyes wild.In his mind, there was only one word: survive.This couldn't be happening.It wasn't fair.He, Adam Smith, was supposed to be immune to all this.He was supposed to be above the law, above the world.Sweat poured down his forehead as he kept running without direction.Arkanza watched the chase unfold from a small screen in his hand.He knew Adam would run.He had predicted it.Arkanza had no intention of stopping him now.There was still the final act to play.Calmly, he closed his phone, put on his jacket, and stepped out of the café into the cold night.Adam could run as far as he wanted.But he could never escape the truth.In a filthy corner of the city, Adam finally stopped, gasping, his body trembling.He leaned against a brick wall, his eyes searching
traitor
"Are you all stupid?!" Adam roared, slamming the table in the silent meeting room.His subordinates only lowered their heads, not daring to meet his bloodshot eyes."Who leaked the data?! Who betrayed us?!"Adam's voice echoed, full of anger and paranoia.No one answered.Because no one knew.Because their true enemy had never been seen—like a ghost lurking in the shadows.Adam clutched his hair, breathing heavily.Fear began to creep into his mind.He, the invincible Adam Smith, now couldn’t trust anyone.One by one, he began dismissing his subordinates, accusing without proof, firing managers, scolding secretaries, threatening lawyers.The Smith Corporation headquarters had turned into a minefield of fear.Everyone walked on shattered glass, terrified of becoming the next target of Adam’s wrath.From a distance, Arkanza watched it all.Through hidden CCTV feeds, through secret recordings sent by his informants.He saw Adam raging in the meeting room, smashing his phone, throwing cha
final
mThat night, the rain poured mercilessly, drenching every corner of the city.Behind the dark curtain of rain, a lone figure moved slowly through the darkness, leaving behind the grand and cold residence of the Smith family.Arkanza Lev Bodgan, the only son of Adam Smith and Isabella Bodgan, had now become nothing more than a shadow disappearing from the world that once raised him.No message. No farewell.He simply left—leaving everyone questioning, creating an empty void in the once-intricate and deceitful mansion.Arkanza knew this decision would leave many wounds. But he had to do it.To free himself, to uncover the truth, and most importantly: to bring down Adam Smith, his own father.A few days later, in a small town far from the bustling center, a man named Agni began to emerge among the ordinary crowd.No one knew who he was. No one questioned the small scar on his face or the sharp, secretive look in his eyes.Agni was Arkanza—who had discarded his old identity.He changed h
more clear
Dusk had not fully fallen when Milan briskly walked down the long corridor leading to Albert’s study. His steps were heavy, filled with a fury he could barely contain. In his hand, he tightly gripped a letter he had found in Arkanza’s room. A short message—an unmistakable sign that Arkanza had decided to leave. To leave him. And Milan had no doubt who was behind that sudden decision."You’re the one who influenced him, aren’t you?" Milan accused bluntly the moment he entered Albert’s room.Albert, calmly seated behind his desk, met Milan’s gaze with sharp but cold eyes. “What are you implying, Milan?”“Don’t play dumb! Arkanza left because of you! You’ve been filling his head with nonsense, making him believe this place isn’t for him!”“That’s not true,” Albert replied calmly. “Arkanza made that decision on his own. I never forced him to leave.”“But you were always with him, whispering things that made him doubt me! You wanted to separate us!”Before Albert could respond, Vikram ente
liberation
The room was dim. Only the glow from the surveillance screens illuminated Milan and Vikram’s serious faces. Their eyes were fixed on the live footage from various corners of the now-empty Smith residence—silent, and almost like a museum of memories. They knew Arkanza would come. They also knew this was no ordinary meeting.Footsteps approached. Then the door opened.“So you two are here,” Arkanza’s voice was calm, but carried a pressure that made both men instantly stand straight.Arkanza stepped in, dressed entirely in black, a long cloak billowing behind him. His face was different—not the lost young man he once was, but someone who knew where he was going, and more importantly: who his enemy was.“Young master, what are you doing here?” Milan spoke softly, relief in his voice.Vikram remained silent, his eyes sharply observing Arkanza’s every move. The tension in the air was subtle, yet suffocating.“I’d like a moment of your time,” said Arkanza. He stopped right in front of them,
a question whose answer is definite
The bathroom was filled with the soft scent of soap as Albert helped Arkanza remove his night robe. The warm light from the ceiling lamp cast faint shadows on the walls. Albert always worked efficiently, his movements practiced and unwavering. But this time, something felt different—like an invisible weight lingering between them.As Albert touched Arkanza’s arm to help him into the bathtub, Arkanza suddenly spoke."Albert," he called, his voice quiet but clear.Albert turned, his expression attentive. "Yes, Sir?"Arkanza stared at the water rippling on the surface of the tub, creating a slightly distorted reflection. "How long have we known each other?"Albert was slightly surprised by the question, but he answered in his usual neutral tone. "Since we were children, Sir."Arkanza nodded slowly, as if he had expected that answer. "And how long have you served me?""For as long as I can remember," Albert replied without hesitation. "My life was always meant to serve you, Sir."Somethin