Legacy Inheritance System: Revenge of The True Heir

The Cripple Walks Again

By the time Raiden reached downtown Valoria, the morning rush was already in full swing.

Raiden walked quietly along the sidewalk.

More than once, pedestrians glanced at him before quickly looking away.

His clothes were stained with dried blood and blackened by smoke. Dirt clung to every inch of the fabric, and the faint metallic scent of blood mixed with the lingering smell of burnt wood followed him wherever he went. To everyone around him, he looked no different from a homeless man who had barely survived a disaster.

Raiden ignored every stare. His phone battery had dropped below five percent, and he had nowhere to return to.

Bolt Manor was no longer his home. By now, Johny Randal had undoubtedly taken control of everything that once belonged to the Bolt family.

The thought only strengthened his resolve. The Legacy Fund contained ten million dollars. For an ordinary person, it was a fortune beyond imagination, but for him it was merely the first brick needed to rebuild an empire.

Charging straight at Johny Randal would be suicide. Johny now controlled Bolt Group's resources, connections, and influence. If Raiden wanted revenge, he first needed to build enough power to stand on equal footing.

Only then could he uncover the truth behind his parents' deaths and destroy everyone responsible.

As those thoughts crossed his mind, one particular investment resurfaced from memory.

Months ago, while reviewing acquisition opportunities for Bolt Group, Raiden had spent several days studying Aurora Hotel.

The hotel occupied one of the best locations in downtown Valoria and enjoyed an excellent reputation among business travelers. Unfortunately, Aurora Hospitality had overextended itself during an ambitious expansion project. Although the hotel remained profitable, its parent company had been struggling with cash flow for months.

Raiden had been interested in acquiring it back then. Unfortunately, William had chosen to prioritize another overseas investment, forcing Aurora Hotel onto the back burner.

Now, things were different. If Aurora Hospitality was still searching for investors, this might become the perfect starting point for rebuilding his business empire.

Coincidentally, he also needed somewhere to shower, change clothes, and rest.

Without another thought, Raiden turned toward Aurora Hotel.

A few minutes later, the luxurious glass building came into view.

The golden letters reading AURORA HOTEL gleamed beneath the morning sunlight.

Raiden pushed open the revolving doors and stepped inside.

The moment Raiden entered, the atmosphere changed. Several guests instinctively frowned. One woman immediately covered her nose.

"...What's that smell?"

Another businessman glanced toward the entrance before taking an obvious step backward.

"Is that blood? He looks like he came out of a battlefield."

"No... more like a crime scene."

Whispers spread through the lobby.

Raiden paid them no attention as he walked toward the reception desk. The young receptionist looked up with her usual professional smile. The smile disappeared almost instantly, her nose wrinkled.

For a brief second, she instinctively leaned backward.

"S-Sir..."

Her eyes swept across the dried blood covering Raiden's clothes before returning to his face.

"Are you... injured?"

"I'd like to book a room," Raiden replied calmly.

The receptionist hesitated.

"I'm... sorry, sir."

Her voice became noticeably colder.

"I'm afraid we can't accommodate guests in your condition."

Raiden remained expressionless.

"I can pay."

The receptionist frowned.

"I'm not talking about payment."

She glanced nervously toward the other guests.

"You're covered in blood, and..."

She stopped herself before finally saying it anyway.

"...you smell terrible."

Several nearby guests nodded in agreement.

"I'm sorry, sir," she continued. "You're disturbing the other guests. Please leave before this becomes a bigger problem."

"I only need a room."

"I'm afraid that's impossible."

Her patience had completely disappeared. She quickly pressed the intercom beneath the counter.

"Manager Collins, could you please come to the lobby?"

Only a few seconds later, a middle-aged man in an expensive tailored suit strode over. His name badge read: Richard Collins. He looked at Raiden once before frowning.

"What happened here?"

The receptionist pointed toward Raiden.

"This man insists on booking a room."

Collins barely looked at Raiden before shaking his head.

"No."

His answer came without hesitation.

"We cannot allow someone in that condition to remain inside the hotel."

He turned toward two security guards standing near the entrance.

"Escort him outside."

The guards immediately began walking over. Raiden didn't move.

"I said I can pay."

Collins let out a short laugh.

"Pay?"

He looked Raiden up and down again.

"With what?"

Before Raiden could answer, Collins stepped closer. He stared at Raiden's face for several long seconds.

"...Wait."

The receptionist looked confused.

"Manager?"

Collins ignored her. His eyes remained fixed on Raiden.

"Are you Raiden Bolt?"

The receptionist blinked. She looked at Raiden again. This time more carefully. Raiden and his father came to this hotel as guests several times. And his face is in every news right now.

"Mr. Bolt?"

The name spread through the lobby almost instantly.

"What? Raiden Bolt?"

"The heir of Bolt Group? I thought he disappeared after yesterday's explosion."

Several businessmen immediately turned around. One of them suddenly frowned.

"Hold on."

His gaze slowly dropped toward Raiden's legs.

"He's standing."

Another guest looked as well. A murmur swept across the lobby.

"Wasn't he crippled? I attended Bolt Group's charity gala two years ago. I remember seeing him arrive in a wheelchair."

"So did I. He could barely move."

"Not just crippled," an elderly businessman added thoughtfully. "People always said he was constantly ill. Chairman William rarely allowed him to attend important business functions because his health couldn't handle the pressure."

"I've heard that too. While other heirs were learning to run billion-dollar companies, William Bolt spent years taking Raiden from one specialist to another."

"Exactly. They said Chairman William cared more about keeping his son alive than preparing him to inherit Bolt Group."

The whispers grew louder.

"Then, how is he walking? Did some miracle cure him overnight?"

"I don't think that's possible."

A middle-aged businessman slowly folded his arms.

"If he really recovered, why would Bolt Group keep something that important a secret?"

Someone beside him lowered his voice.

"Unless, he was never crippled."

Several people turned toward the speaker.

"What are you talking about?"

The man shrugged.

"Think about it. Chairman William never handed Bolt Group over to Raiden. He stayed in charge until the day he died. Doesn't that seem strange?"

Another businessman slowly nodded.

"Maybe William already knew his son wasn't capable, so pretending to be crippled became the perfect excuse. If everyone believed he was too sick to work no one would question why the heir never became CEO."

"Hmm... That actually makes sense. Otherwise, why would the future chairman spend years in a wheelchair instead of learning how to run the company?"

A woman standing near the elevators frowned.

"I don't believe that. I've met him before. He genuinely looked ill."

Another guest shrugged.

"Maybe. But people have lied about stranger things."

Manager Collins listened to every word with growing amusement. A slow smile spread across his face.

"Interesting..."

He looked Raiden up and down once more.

"So your legs finally work. What a shame Bolt Group didn't recover with them."