2024-12-06 08:30:00The question hung in the air, intensifying the already tense atmosphere. Adam tried to remain calm, but his gaze began to sharpen. "No, this is not part of our tradition," he answered loudly, trying to quell his confusion. "Arkanza will come. It’s just a matter of time."
However, more and more people started doubting Adam’s words. The guests whispered among themselves, some beginning to retreat, while others grew increasingly uneasy. What was once a well-organized gathering had now turned into a chaotic mess. Amidst the confusion, the Victor members, who had not revealed their identities, continued moving through the room, further exacerbating the situation with their sharp words and gazes, fueling the tension. They didn’t force themselves into the spotlight but merely provoked enough to keep the unease simmering, heightening the discomfort among the elders and guests present.
Valerin stood by the large window, her eyes unable to avoid the restless lo
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HighSchool of Billionere don't be afraid
Arkanza stood in the middle of the open area, sweat beading on his temples as he focused on every movement of his body. His frame was still slender and fragile from years of physical neglect, but now, it was starting to show signs of determination. His movements were measured, though not yet fluid; each step reminded him of how far he still had to go to build the strength he had lacked for so long. His breath was steady, though he occasionally gasped as he pushed his limits.The young man had decided that today would be a new starting point. No longer would he let his physical weaknesses define him. The doubts that had haunted him for so long—about his self-worth, about his place in the world—would no longer control him. The pressure to prove himself was immense, but today, he wanted to take steps toward self-empowerment.Albert, his loyal protector, stood a few steps behind, watching Arkanza with a mix of concern and admiration. The man had seen Arkanza gr
HighSchool of Billionere finally come in
In the grand room of the Smith family house, the elders gathered, their faces serious and anxious. Soft lights illuminated the high ceilings, casting shadows over the faces filled with both hope and concern. They sat in a circle around a long table, with Adam Smith at the head, appearing firm, but there was an underlying unease in his demeanor. In front of him, several family elders and advisors spoke in urgent tones."Lord Adam, this is more than just a personal matter," said one elder, an old man with a long white beard. "Arkanza must return immediately. His coming-of-age ceremony is a crucial event for this family, not just for his future, but for the legacy of the family."Another elder, a middle-aged woman with a stern expression, added, "We can’t wait any longer. The Lev Bodgan family will begin to suspect if Arkanza continues to avoid this. They will start doubting our strength as leaders."Adam remained silent, his hands clenched on the table. He k
HighSchool of Billionere prepare
Here is the translation of your requested scene:In the bathroom, hidden behind thick silk curtains, the sound of running water could be heard softly. Arkanza stood beneath the shower, letting the warm water flow over his tired body after a long practice. His once fragile body now showed signs of change, though it wasn't fully strong yet. However, for the first time in his life, he felt better, more alive. Each drop of water that soaked his skin seemed to wash away the anxiety that had haunted him for so long.Meanwhile, outside the bathroom, Albert and Milan worked quickly, preparing everything that Arkanza would need. Albert, with his vast experience, selected the most appropriate clothing for the event. He carefully observed the traditional Smith family attire that Arkanza would wear—a fine robe with colors representing the status and strength of their family.Milan, who was younger and often impatient, watched intently from the side, his eyes fi
HighSchool of Billionere heavy body
As the main ceremony of the coming-of-age event concluded, the hall was abuzz with festivities. Guests mingled, laughter filled the air, and the clinking of glasses echoed throughout the room. The transition from a sacred ritual to a lively celebration was seamless, but amidst the vibrant atmosphere, Arkanza felt a growing heaviness in his chest.He excused himself discreetly, stepping away from the crowd, his formal attire brushing against the walls of the quiet hallway. His footsteps echoed faintly as he walked toward the garden outside, seeking solace away from the noise. The cool night air greeted him as he reached a secluded corner of the estate. Tall hedges surrounded the small clearing, and the faint sound of crickets filled the silence.Arkanza leaned against a marble bench, exhaling deeply. The weight of the evening bore down on him—not just the expectations but the lingering sense of inadequacy that had haunted him for so long. He rubbed his temple, trying to shake off the s
HighSchool of Billionere carelessness
Milan stood at the corner of the balcony, his figure concealed by the shadows of the night. From his vantage point, he could see most of the guests still mingling in the grand hall. His sharp eyes scanned for any suspicious movements, his arms folded across his chest. On the other side of the balcony, Vikram appeared with calm steps, approaching him. “I’m back,” Vikram said softly, stopping a few steps away from Milan. “It’s them.” Milan briefly shifted his gaze, acknowledging Vikram’s presence. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice cold and cautious. Vikram nodded, his expression serious. “Yes. I recognize a few faces from old reports. They’re not trying very hard to hide, but they’re blending in well enough with the guests.” Milan refocused on the hall. “So, they’ve infiltrated right under our noses. Viktor is truly bold.” Vikram sighed, folding his arms. “They’re not just bold; they’re smart. They know when to act. I suspect they’re waiting for something.” “Waiting for wh
HighSchool of Billionere a poison
The room was silent, accompanied only by the faint sound of leaves rustling outside the window. Moonlight slipped through the gaps in the curtains, illuminating the figure of a young man lying weakly on his grand bed. Arkanza looked pale, cold sweat soaking his forehead. His breaths were short, his body trembling despite the thick blanket covering him.Beside him, Albert sat with a serious expression. The man was a few years older than Arkanza, with neatly combed brown hair and sharp, cautious eyes. In Albert's hand was a damp cloth, which he occasionally pressed against Arkanza’s forehead, trying to bring down his dangerously high fever.“Arkanza…,” Albert muttered softly, as if calling out to his master, trapped in his weakened state. “This fever is strange. Unusual.”Albert took a deep breath, then moved his hand to Arkanza’s wrist. The skin there was paler than the rest of his body. A faint purplish line had formed around his veins. Albert narrowed his eyes, his heart pounding.“T
HighSchool of Billionere reunion
Vikram had begun his search earlier that evening, particularly after spotting a suspicious figure moving swiftly through the crowd of guests before vanishing. Trusting his instincts, he stepped out and made his way toward the back garden. The area was dark and silent, illuminated only by faint oil lamps hanging in several corners. The night breeze whispered softly, causing the leaves around the garden to rustle gently.At the far end of the yard, Vikram noticed a figure standing with his back turned, draped in a long black cloak that stood out starkly amidst such a festive occasion. His movements were uneasy, as though he was waiting for orders or ensuring something. When the figure turned around, Vikram froze in surprise—the face was one he recognized. “Roy!?” Vikram’s voice cut through the silence. The figure flinched, instinctively stepping back as his hand reached for something hidden beneath his cloak. Under the dim light, his face was now unmistakable—Roy, Vikram’s comrade f
HighSchool of Billionere intruder
Milan walked briskly down the hallway toward Arkanza's room. The grand Smith residence was a masterpiece of classic European architecture—high ceilings supported by massive pillars, ornate carvings decorating the walls, and gilded frames displaying priceless paintings. Despite the grandeur, the atmosphere tonight was unsettling. Most of the lights had been dimmed, and the flickering glow of small oil lamps cast long, dancing shadows across the hall.His hand gripped the hilt of his sword tightly, his instincts sharpened since the incident at the party hours ago. Arkanza remained weak in his room after the mysterious poisoning attempt, and Albert had tasked Milan with ensuring the surrounding area was secure. Yet something about the silence felt wrong—a prickling in his senses that urged caution.Milan’s footsteps echoed faintly on the marble floors, the only sound in the empty hallway. Then suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a movement—a shadow darting quickly at the fa
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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
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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