2025-02-24 19:11:06Kelvin's Pov
I agree to my father’s request.
It’s not like I have much of a choice. The weight of his expectations hangs over me like a storm cloud, but there’s a part of me that’s curious no, hungry to see what this new life has in store. The takeover of “Eclipse Group” is set for tomorrow, coinciding with their anniversary celebration. Major companies in the city will be there, including Justin’s family. The thought of facing him again sends a flicker of anticipation through me.
Lydia takes me to the villa my father prepared. It’s massive, luxurious, and eerily quiet. The kind of place that feels more like a museum than a home. I wander through the halls, my mind racing. The cultivation methods I’ve inherited from the ring are still fresh in my mind, a jumble of techniques and rituals I barely understand. But one thing’s clear: I need to start practicing.
The first step is a specific herb “Soulroot”. It’s rare and expensive, but according to the knowledge flooding my mind, it’s essential for unlocking my potential. When I ask Lydia about it, she tells me the city’s largest herbal store, “Golden Petal”, should have it.
We head there together.
The store is a sprawling, ornate building filled with the scent of dried herbs and incense. Shelves line the walls, packed with jars and boxes labeled in elegant script. Lydia wait outside I asked, her presence a silent reminder of the power I now wield.
I find the Soulroot quickly. It’s the last one in stock, a gnarled, dark root wrapped in delicate paper. As I approach the counter, the door chimes behind me.
“Excuse me, do you have any Soulroot in stock?” a familiar voice asks.
I turn, and my stomach drops.
It’s Mary’s mother “Sarah, trailed by her younger sister. They don’t notice me at first, too busy arguing with the clerk.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the clerk says, glancing at me. “The last one has already been taken by this gentleman.”
Mary’s mother follows the clerk’s gaze, and her eyes widen in recognition. “You,” she sneers, her voice dripping with disdain.
I force a calm expression, though my fists clench at my sides. “Mrs. Sarah.”
She steps closer, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “What are you doing here, Kelvin? Shouldn’t you be licking your wounds somewhere? Or did you come here to beg for Mary to take you back?”
Her sister giggles, a high-pitched, grating sound. “Look at him. He probably can’t even afford a cup of tea, let alone Soulroot.”
The clerk looks uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. “Ma’am, if you’d like to check out our other”
“No,” Mrs. Sarah interrupts, her voice sharp. “I want that Soulroot. And I don’t believe for a second that he can afford it.” She points at me, her finger trembling with barely contained rage. “He’s just a poor orphan. A nobody. Don’t let him fool you.”
I take a deep breath, reminding myself not to lose control. This isn’t worth it. But the way she looks at me like I’m dirt beneath her shoes, stirs something dark inside me.
“I’ll take it,” I say, placing the Soulroot on the counter.
Mrs. Sarah scoffs. “With what money? Your imaginary savings?”
I pull out the black card my father gave me and slide it across the counter. The clerk’s eyes widen, and she picks it up with trembling hands.
“This… this is a Black Eclipse Card,” she stammers. “I’ve never seen one in person before.”
Mrs. Sarah's face pales, but she quickly recovers. “It’s fake. It has to be. There’s no way someone like him could have one.”
The clerk hesitates, glancing between me and Mrs. Sarah. “Ma’am, this card is… it’s real. It’s one of the most exclusive cards in the world. Only a handful of people have access to it.”
Mrs. Sarah's jaw drops. Her sister stares at me, her earlier smugness replaced by shock.
“Impossible,” Mrs. Sarah mutters, her voice shaking. “You’re lying. He’s lying!”
I lean in slightly, my voice low but firm. “Believe what you want. But this herb is mine.”
Mrs. Sarah's eyes narrow, and she steps closer to the counter. “What are you talking about? That’s impossible. He’s just a poor orphan. There’s no way he has a Black Eclipse Card.”
“You can’t seriously believe he’s one of those people. Look at him! He’s nothing but a beggar.”
Her sister chimes in, her tone dripping with mockery. “Yeah, he probably found that card on the street. Or maybe he stole it. Either way, he’s not fooling anyone.”
The clerk’s doubt grows, and she sets the card down on the counter, her expression apologetic but firm. “Sir, I’m sorry, but I can’t process this payment. If you have another form of payment, I’d be happy to…”
“You’re making a mistake,” I say, my voice calm but edged with warning.
Mrs. Sarah laughs, a harsh, grating sound. “Oh, please. Stop pretending, Kelvin. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Her sister steps forward, peering at the screen. “There’s no way he has that kind of money.”
I ignore her, keeping my focus on the clerk. “Run the card.”
She hesitates again, clearly torn. “Sir, if this card is declined, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“Just run it,” I repeat, my tone leaving no room for argument.
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