Hoffman's Illegitimate Son

Chapter 1: The Hundred-Dollar Beggar

Chapter 1: The Hundred-Dollar Beggar

8:15 PM — Ravenword Mansion.

Arthur stood in front of the large iron gate. His phone rang as the heavy rain poured down on him, soaking his clothes completely.

“Mr. Vance, your mother's condition is getting worse quickly. Please, we have to carry out an emergency surgery at the earliest. The f*e is sixty thousand dollars,” the nurse said from the other end of the line.

Arthur’s hands shook aggressively. “Don't worry, I will get the money.” He clenched his phone tightly, barely managing to speak.

Sigh, here I am again, having to beg from the person who took everything from me, Arthur muttered, his jaw tightening with every breath.

The sheer thought of turning to the woman who had manipulated him into transferring the small company he built from the ground up into a joint name made his stomach turn. At the time, to avoid conflict and out of genuine affection, he had agreed without a second thought. But not long after, she had changed for the worse—growing arrogant and flirtatious, before finally throwing divorce papers at his feet and stripping him of everything he owned.

“Arthur, you're doing this for your mom. Just keep calm,” he told himself, his fist tightening even harder before he stepped forward.

Before he could reach out to ring the doorbell, a familiar voice called out.

“Young man.”

Walking closer under an umbrella was the mansion's security guard.

“Young man, stop this instant,” the guard warned, stepping forward with a malicious grin as he twirled a heavy wooden club. “The family is hosting a party for the young mistress’s engagement to the master of the Dwen Family. Keep slamming on these gates, and I’ll break every bone in your body.”

Arthur didn't care about the threat. He began hammering his fists against the iron gate.

“Chloe!” he screamed, his throat burning. “Please, just for old times’ sake... just spare me some money for my mother’s treatments. I will surely pay you back. I’m begging you.”

“You shameless piece of trash,” the guard scoffed, closing the distance. He swung the club in a tight arc toward Arthur’s neck, but a sharp command stopped him inches from impact.

“Stop,” a soft voice said from the distance.

The heavy gate slowly slid open.

A security cart rolled out, carrying Chloe and Marcus. Chloe wore a bright, sparkling diamond dress, while Marcus wore a huge, proud grin. Behind them, Chloe's parents stood watching Arthur with pure disgust, as if he were trash on the street.

Marcus pulled Chloe close and laughed. “Look at him. I told you he’d come crawling back.”

Arthur paid the insults no attention, his mind entirely fixed on his mom lying in a hospital bed three miles away. This was his very last stop.

“Chloe,” Arthur choked out, falling hard onto his knees in the wet dirt. “Please. Just lend me the money for the surgery. Take everything else I have, but please—save my mom. I will definitely pay you back.”

Chloe looked down at him with cold amusement.

“Lend you money? Pay me back?” Chloe scoffed. “Are you crazy? You lowly beggar, I can't even believe you were my husband just until yesterday… How can you even pay me back when you can barely afford food?”

“Please,” Arthur cried, pressing his forehead against the cold concrete. “I’ll do anything. I'll be your dog. Just help me this once, and I promise never to get involved in your life again.”

Marcus stepped closer, smiling nastily. He pointed down at the tips of Chloe's shoes.

“You want money for your mom so badly? Kiss her feet.” He paused. “No, lick the dirt off her shoes right now, and maybe we'll give you a little cash.”

Arthur’s blood ran ice-cold. Every muscle in his body tightened into a hard knot, screaming at him to stand up and shatter their teeth. But then he pictured his mother gasping for air in that hospital bed.

He swallowed his shattered pride, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against the dust on Chloe’s shoe.

Laughter erupted from the guests watching from the porch. Phones flashed, capturing the moment.

“As expected of a lowly beggar,” sneered Mary, Chloe’s mother. Age had lined her face, but her cruelty hadn't changed at all.

Chloe pushed her foot forward in disgust, kicking Arthur hard in the lip. Then she reached into her purse, pulled out a single hundred-dollar bill, and threw it into the mud right next to his face.

“There. That’s more than you're worth,” Chloe sneered, turning her back on the kneeling man and heading back into the mansion with her lover and the guests.

Arthur stared at the bill in the mud. A tear slipped down his cheek. With shaking hands, he picked it up, stood straight up, and glared at Chloe with pure hatred. She knew very well that his mother's treatment cost sixty thousand dollars—barely a fraction of what she normally spent in a single night. Yet, she had tossed him a measly hundred dollars like he was a stray dog.

Filled with rage, Arthur rushed forward. But before he could reach her, four guards slammed into him, grabbing hold of him and dragging him back toward the street.

From a distance, he saw Marcus glance back with a smirk, wrapping an arm around Chloe's waist as they walked inside.

“Chloe! Chloe!! I will never forgive you. If anything happens to my mother, I swear I will make you pay. I will take everything from you and leave you completely empty in a world where only death could save you,” Arthur shouted before being thrown out into the rain.

****

“Hello? Who's this?”

“Hey Jacob, it's me, Arthur, your best friend from high school.”

“Oh. Okay?”

“Please, can you lend me some money? I need sixty grand for my mother’s surgery. Please, any amount will do, bro.” Arthur whispered, his fingers trembling on the phone.

“Hmm… I'm sorry, bro, I have nothing. I heard you cheated on your wife and lost everything in the divorce. Honestly, bro, maybe you should have been a better husband.”

The line went dead.

Arthur tried another number, then another, and another. Each conversation followed the same pattern—rejection upon rejection, the majority of them repeating the false rumors about his adulterous divorce.

Desperate, he scrambled up, flagged down a passing taxi, and shoved the hundred-dollar bill through the window at the driver.

“Fast! Take me to St. Jude Hospital!”

When he burst into the intensive care unit, the head nurse looked at him with sad eyes.

“Mr. Arthur... I'm sorry, you're too late. There's nothing more we can do… all you can do now is brace yourself for the worst.”

“No,” Arthur gasped, running down the hall and bursting into Room 402.

His mother lay still under a white sheet. The heart monitor gave a long, continuous beep.

“Mom!” Arthur fell beside the bed, grabbing her cold hand. “Mom, I almost have all the money! Please open your eyes!”

His mother’s eyes fluttered open just a tiny bit. She squeezed his hand with her last bit of strength.

“Arthur...” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Listen... there's something... something important you need to know.”

“Mom, please don't talk. Just wait a minute, I'll go call the doctor,” Arthur said, tears streaming down his cheeks. He tried to pull away, but his mother's grip tightened.

​“Arthur...” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Listen... your father isn't dead... I lied to keep you safe from them all these years... His name is Vance Hoffman…”

Her hand slipped from his grip. The heart monitor was flatlined.

Arthur knelt in the silent room, his heart shattering into pieces.

He let out a loud scream that echoed through the walls of the hospital, loud enough to draw the attention and sympathy of most people.

He began shouting the names of the doctor loud down the hallway. Even with his hands shaking heavily, he could help but hold his mother's hands tightly and refused to leave it.

"Doctor Jones! Nurse Clara! Somebody, get in here! Please!"

The door finally opened after a while. The staff walked in with an unusual calm and steady pace for people trying to attend to a patient in critical condition.

The doctor stepped up to the bed, pressing his stethoscope against her chest, checking the monitor, and shining a small penlight into her eyes. After a moment, he turned to Arthur with a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, Arthur,"

Arthur's heart began racing heavily. "What happened to her?"

"Your mother suffered a cardiac arrest. We managed to restart her heart, but her brain went without oxygen for too long. The resulting injury was severe."

The doctor paused, choosing his next words carefully.

"She's in a prolonged coma. Despite our treatment, she hasn't regained consciousness, and our latest assessments suggest that her chances of meaningful neurological recovery are extremely poor."

Arthur stared at him. "is she still alive?"

"Yes. Her heart is beating, and the ventilator is helping her breathe. But I need you to understand that we cannot promise she'll ever regain consciousness."

The words seemed to drain the strength from Arthur's legs.

The doctor glanced at the clipboard beneath his arm before continuing.

"Given her condition, we need to discuss whether continuing life-sustaining treatment is in her best interests. If treatment is withdrawn following that discussion, our team would ensure that she's kept comfortable and that her suffering is minimized."

Arthur stared at him in disbelief.

"What are you saying? You want me to let her die?"

"I'm asking you to consider the medical realities, Arthur. Continuing treatment will also mean substantial ongoing costs. I understand how difficult this is, but we need to discuss both her prognosis and the options available to her."

Arthur staggered backward, his voice cracking.

"How can you ask me that?!" he yelled, tears hot on his face. "How am I supposed to give permission to let my own mom die?!"

"Keep your voice down, son. We are just presenting the realities," the doctor said, holding up a hand.

"No! I won't do it!" Arthur shook his head fiercely.

Realizing Arthur wouldn't agree, the doctor gave a quiet nod and walked out, leaving the paperwork behind.

The remaining three nurses stayed longer in the room. One of them stepped closer to Arthur and spoke softly.

[Ding.]

A strange, robotic voice echoed inside his head.

[ Target profile verified. Host grief and absolute malice threshold exceeded. ]

[ Awakening the Supreme Wealth System. ]

[ Initializing inheritance protocol... ]

[ Welcome, Young Master. Your revenge begins now. ]

“Huh?” Arthur's attention shifted to the blue see-through panel floating before him, but before he could even process what it was, his attention drifted back to the nurse standing just before him.

"Look around you, Mr. Arthur," the nurse said, pointing at piles of debt notices. "You can barely even get enough money for the operation, now you want your mother to be on life support. Be realistic... how are you going to survive this?"

Arthur stared down at his mother's hand having no response for the question thrown at him. In truth she wasn't wrong, he has nowhere to turn anymore. But just as he was about giving up, the system interface appeared once more:

[Observed user spike in self bitter emotions]

[Verifying cause of emotional unrest…]

[The cause as been identified]

[Triggering immediate solution…]

What's happening? Am I hallucinating or something?

[Main Mission Initiated.]

What's all this talking about? His mind wavered, completely enclosing on the word of the nurses in the background and focused on the system only seen in novels and movies. Out of reflux his hands moved through the air, clicking the glowing ‘Main Mission’ on the system panel.

[Main Mission activated]

[Requirement: Payback, crush and Destroy your enemies.]

[Reward:

Fruit of the World Tree: The fruit of the world tree seen only in fantasy stories and movies.

Effects: Directly Develops all physique to its maximum, Heals all abnormalities, acquires skill— Immune to ten thousand poisons.]