OmniX System: Return of the Scorned Son-in-law

The rusty door of the Honda groaned as Evan stepped out into the bright lights of the Skyview Pavilion.

He adjusted his cheap, worn-out suit, feeling the heavy gaze of the elite guests already pressing against his skin. He didn't want to be here, but his mother’s time was running out, and the Wensleys held the only key to her survival.

A valet approached, his nose curling as if he had just encountered a pile of rotting garbage. He didn't look at the car, but at the empty space where Evan’s spiritual energy should have been. In a city of mages and cultivators, Evan was a "Void," a man with no mana and even less worth.

"The delivery entrance is in the back, trash," the valet sneered, refusing to take the keys. "We don't allow hollow-bloods to park near the Spirit-Bentleys. You're polluting the air just by standing here."

Evan swallowed his pride, his fingers tightening around his mother’s medical alert watch. "I'm a guest of the Wensleys. My name is Evan. Check the list," he said, his voice low but steady despite the shaking in his knees.

The valet let out a sharp, mocking laugh that drew the attention of a nearby couple dressed in silk. "A guest? You mean the stray dog the Wensleys took in to look charitable? Fine, leave the junk here, but don't expect it to be in one piece when you leave."

Evan ignored the insults and walked toward the grand glass doors, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. Every step felt like he was walking through thick mud as the "Spirit Pressure" from the wealthy guests pushed against him. He wasn't here for the wine or the music; he was here to beg for a Life-Core.

Inside, the ballroom was a sea of shimmering lights and floating mana-crystals that made the air hum with power. He spotted the Wensley table at the front, where the air was thickest with the scent of expensive incense and cold frost. Vanessa sat at the center, looking like a queen carved from ice.

She wasn't alone; she was leaning dangerously close to Damon Sharpe, the man who had taken Evan’s job and his dignity. Damon was laughing, holding up a glowing green crystal that pulsed with a vibrant, healing energy. It was a High-Grade Life-Core—the very thing Evan’s mother needed to stay alive.

Evan approached the table, his scuffed shoes clicking against the polished marble like a countdown to his own execution. Julian, Vanessa’s younger brother, was the first to notice him, and he didn't waste a second. He stood up, spilling a drop of wine onto the white tablecloth.

"Well, look who crawled out of the gutters," Julian shouted, his voice amplified by a sharp hint of Wind Magic. "Vanessa, did you forget to warn the valets? Your little beggar husband is wandering about like a stray dog looking for a scrap. Honestly, I can smell the grease from his rusted Honda from here!”

Vanessa didn't look up at first, her eyes fixed on the Life-Core in Damon’s hand. When she finally turned to Evan, her gaze was so cold it felt like a physical weight on his chest. "What are you doing here, Evan? I told you never to show your face in public celebrations."

"Vanessa, please," Evan whispered, stepping closer despite the glares from the surrounding mages. "My mother... the stasis pod is failing. Her soul-shards are beginning to crack. I need a Life-Core. Just one. I'll do anything. I'll sign the house over, I'll work for free—just save her."

Vanessa let out a sigh of pure boredom, swirling the champagne in her glass. "Your mother has been a burden on this family for years. She was a brilliant architect once, sure, but now she’s just a drain on our resources. Why should I waste a million-dollar core on a dead woman?"

"She isn't dead!" Evan snapped, his voice rising in desperation. "She built the foundation of your family's empire! Without her Runic designs, the Wensleys would still be third-rate merchants. You owe her this much, Vanessa. You're my wife, for god's sake!"

Damon Sharpe let out a low, patronizing chuckle, tossing the Life-Core up and catching it with a smirk. "A wife? That's a strong word for a business arrangement, don't you think? Vanessa needs a partner with power, not a hollow-blood who can't even light a candle with his soul."

"Shut up, Damon," Evan hissed, his eyes burning with a seething, suppressed rage. "This has nothing to do with you. Vanessa, I am begging you. If she doesn't get that core within the hour, her soul will shatter. Please, just give me the core."Damon didn't argue. Instead, he leaned in and whispered something into Vanessa’s ear, his hot breath brushing her hair as he pointed a mocking finger at Evan’s worn-out shoes. Vanessa let out a sharp, melodic giggle and quickly tapped a message into her phone, her eyes never leaving Evan’s desperate face.

A second later, Meredith Wensley’s phone buzzed on the table. She glanced at the screen, a cruel smirk spreading across her lips as she stood up at the head of the table. "There is a much more pressing matter than your mother’s failing health, Evan," she declared, her eyes narrowing with a predatory gleam. "My daughter’s blue-diamond bracelet is missing.”

The table went silent as Meredith stepped toward Evan, her presence radiating a heavy, suffocating pressure. "It was on her wrist before you arrived. And now, suddenly, it’s gone. You’ve always been desperate for money, haven't you? Desperate enough to steal from your own family?"

"I didn't take anything," Evan said, his heart sinking as he realized the trap was closing around him. "I haven't even touched her. I’ve been standing five feet away since I walked in. Check the cameras! Search the room!"

"We don't need cameras when the thief is standing right here," Julian mocked, pointing at Evan’s pockets. "You probably hid it in those rags you call clothes. Or maybe you already handed it off to one of your low-life friends outside."

Evan glanced at Damon and caught it—a glint of silver peeking out from Damon's suit jacket pocket. It was the bracelet. The setup was so obvious it made Evan’s stomach turn with disgust. "It’s in Damon’s pocket," Evan said, pointing a finger. "He’s the one who has it. He’s framing me!"

Meredith’s face twisted into a mask of cold fury. "How dare you accuse a guest of honor? A man of Damon’s status doesn't need to steal. You, on the other hand, are a parasite. You’re trying to shift the blame because you know you’re caught."

"I am telling the truth!" Evan shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the sudden, heavy pulse of Meredith’s magic. She raised her hand, and the air around Evan turned into solid lead. It was "Gravity Magic," a high-tier spell that crushed anything in its path.

Evan’s knees buckled, the sound of his joints popping echoing through the sudden silence of the hall. He fought against the pressure, his muscles screaming in agony, but he was forced down. He landed hard on the marble, his forehead hitting the floor in a forced kowtow.

"Stay down there, where you belong," Meredith hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "You want to beg for your mother’s life while you steal from ours? You’ll stay on your knees and apologize to this family for your very existence."

Evan gasped for air, his face pressed against the cold stone. He looked up, his vision blurring with tears of pain and humiliation, and saw Vanessa watching him. She didn't look angry; she just looked embarrassed. "Vanessa... help my..." he wheezed.

Vanessa stood up, smoothing her dress as if the scene was a minor inconvenience. "My mother is right, Evan. You're really a disgrace. My mother’s life is a legacy, but your mother’s life isn't worth the public embarrassment you're causing me right now. We're done."

Meredith flicked her wrist, and the gravity spell intensified, slamming Evan’s chest into the floor. "Security! Throw this thief out into the street. If he ever tries to enter a Wensley property again, break his legs. We are done with this charity case."

Two massive guards grabbed Evan by the arms, dragging him across the floor like a sack of garbage. The guests laughed and recorded the scene on their phones, the flashes of their cameras blinding him. He was tossed through the main doors and out into the pouring rain.

Evan tumbled onto the wet pavement, his scuffed shoes splashing in the puddles. He lay there, drenched and broken, as the heavy doors of the Pavilion slammed shut, locking him out of the world of light and power. He was alone in the dark, and his chest felt like it was full of glass.

Suddenly, the watch on his wrist began to beep violently, a bright red light pulsing against the darkness of the rain. It was the medical alert—his mother’s vitals were dropping into the danger zone. The soul-stasis pod was failing. He had less than thirty minutes left.

He tried to stand, but his body was a wreck of bruises and shattered dignity. He looked at his shaking hands, the rain washing away the blood from his lips.

"I'll kill them," he whispered, his voice trembling with a rage that began to burn hotter than any magic. "I'll kill every last one of them.”