Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

Chapter 15

The Metropolitan Museum's Grand Hall glittered with chandeliers and designer gowns as the city's elite gathered for the annual Crawford charity gala. Michael adjusted his bow tie, scanning the crowd with his enhanced perception. Every face, every movement, every subtle interaction now registered with crystal clarity as he searched for potential threats.

His System alert remained active in the corner of his vision:

[CRITICAL TASK ACTIVE: Survive assassination attempt. Time remaining: 3:47:22]

The Crawford family had arrived together—a staged show of unity that felt particularly ironic given the circumstances. Richard walked proudly between his sons, oblivious to the deadly undercurrents. Katherine floated nearby in a stunning emerald dress, playing her role as the devoted wife with practiced perfection.

"Beautiful event as always," commented Douglas Winters, a senior board member, approaching with champagne flutes. "Your father has outdone himself this year."

"Indeed," Michael agreed, accepting the offered glass with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "The museum was the perfect choice."

As Winters moved on to greet other guests, Michael pretended to sip his champagne while surreptitiously examining the glass. His enhanced perception highlighted microscopic residue around the rim—traces of a substance that shouldn't be there. Using the System's analysis capabilities, he identified the compound: a catalyst designed to interact with the heart medication his father had been prescribed for his arrhythmia—medication Michael had also been taking as a preventative measure in this timeline.

Combined with alcohol, it would trigger a fatal cardiac reaction that would appear entirely natural—especially in someone known to have a family history of heart problems.

"Clever," Michael thought, casually setting the untouched glass on a passing server's tray. "A perfect 'natural causes' scenario."

He noticed Jason hovering near the champagne station, his nervous gaze following the glass Michael had just discarded. Nearby, Katherine checked her watch for the third time in five minutes, her eyes continuously darting toward the grand staircase where Michael was scheduled to deliver his speech later in the evening.

"Timing is everything," Michael murmured to himself, spotting a security guard he didn't recognize positioning himself at the base of the staircase. The man's posture and vigilance pattern didn't match standard security protocols, and the barely visible earpiece he wore wasn't the model used by the museum's security team.

Michael needed to disrupt their carefully orchestrated timeline without revealing he knew about the attempt. Spotting Board Chairman Wilson crossing the room with a full glass of red wine, Michael calculated his trajectory and moved to intercept, deliberately stepping into the man's path at precisely the right moment.

"Mr. Wilson, I wanted to discuss—" Michael began, just as the collision occurred. The wine splashed spectacularly across Wilson's white shirt and Michael's jacket.

"My sincere apologies!" Michael exclaimed loudly, creating a scene that drew immediate attention. "Entirely my fault—please, let me help you get cleaned up."

The disruption created exactly the diversion Michael needed, forcing a delay in the evening's schedule and changing his position in the room. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Katherine's frustrated expression as she checked her watch again, then whispered something to Eric, whose face momentarily darkened before he composed himself.

By the time Michael had helped Wilson clean up and changed his own jacket, Richard was ready to begin the formal portion of the evening. The elder Crawford took the stage, tapping his glass for attention.

"Welcome, friends, to the thirty-fifth annual Crawford Foundation Charity Gala," Richard began, his voice strong despite his health concerns. "Tonight, we celebrate not only the foundation's work but a new chapter for Crawford Enterprises."

Michael positioned himself at the edge of the crowd, deliberately avoiding his assigned seat near the stage—the seat that would have placed him directly in front of the fake security guard.

"It gives me great pleasure to introduce our acting Chief Operating Officer, a position he's already proving he was born to fill," Richard continued proudly. "My son, Michael Crawford."

Applause filled the hall as Michael made his way to the stage. He noted Eric's tense posture, the subtle nod he gave to the fake security guard, and Katherine's intense focus. According to the original schedule, Michael would deliver his speech from the balcony overlooking the main hall—an isolated position that now seemed obviously dangerous.

"Thank you, Father," Michael said, deliberately remaining on the main stage rather than moving to the balcony as planned. "And thank you all for supporting the Crawford Foundation's vital work."

He set aside the prepared notes that would have positioned him exactly where they wanted him. Instead, he launched into an improvised speech about Crawford Enterprises' vision for the future, watching Eric's expression shift from anticipation to confusion to barely concealed rage as the moments passed and Michael remained unharmed.

"Our family has always believed that business success carries responsibility," Michael continued smoothly. "The technologies we're developing aren't just about profit—they're about improving lives, securing futures, and creating a world where betrayal has no place."

He emphasized the last words slightly, his gaze locking briefly with Eric's. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his brother's face before he looked away.

As Michael concluded his speech to enthusiastic applause, he tracked the fake security guard slipping away toward a service corridor. Making his excuses to the gathering dignitaries, Michael followed at a careful distance.

The corridor was dimly lit and deserted—perfect for an ambush. As Michael rounded a corner, the guard emerged from a doorway, a metallic object glinting in his hand.

"Mr. Crawford," the man said with professional detachment. "Wrong turn?"

"Actually," Michael replied calmly, "I think we both know this is exactly where I'm supposed to be."

The man's expression hardened as he raised what Michael now recognized as a specialized injection device designed to leave minimal evidence. "Nothing personal. Just a job."

"Let me guess," Michael said, moving carefully to maintain distance. "Untraceable neurotoxin? Designed to mimic a stroke or heart attack?"

Surprise flickered across the assassin's face. "You're well-informed. Won't help you though."

He lunged forward with practiced precision, but Michael was ready. The System activated, highlighting the attacker's movement patterns and identifying weaknesses in his stance. As the assassin struck, time seemed to slow for Michael, each motion telegraphed in crystal clarity.

Michael sidestepped the initial attack, grabbing the man's wrist and applying precise pressure to the nerve cluster. The injector clattered to the floor as the assassin grunted in pain. He recovered quickly, launching a series of professional strikes that would have incapacitated an ordinary opponent.

But Michael was no longer ordinary. The System guided his movements, highlighting optimal counterpoints and defensive positions. Within moments, Michael had maneuvered the hitman into a submission hold, the man's face pressed against the wall.

"Who hired you?" Michael demanded, though he already knew the answer.

The assassin remained silent, his training evident in his disciplined resistance. Michael quickly photographed the man's face with his Buzzer phone, then accessed the assassin's own device while keeping him restrained.

Footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor—museum security responding to the disturbance. Michael delivered a precise strike to render the hitman unconscious, then slipped away through a service door, anonymously reporting an "intruder" through the museum's security system before disappearing from the scene.

By the time he returned to the gala, the evening was winding down. Eric and Katherine were making their farewells to the remaining guests, both casting suspicious glances around the room.

"There you are," Richard said as Michael approached. "Where did you disappear to? You missed the donation announcement."

"Apologies, Father," Michael replied smoothly. "I received an urgent call regarding our digital security implementation."

Richard nodded understanding. "Business never sleeps. You should be proud, son. Your speech impressed the board tremendously."

"Thank you," Michael said, genuinely appreciating his father's approval despite the chaos of the evening. "It means a lot coming from you."

As they prepared to depart, Michael noticed Katherine staring at him with barely concealed frustration. Her plans had failed, but Michael knew this was just the opening move in a longer game.

His phone vibrated with an incoming call. Excusing himself, Michael stepped aside to answer, surprised to see Rebecca's name on the display.

"Rebecca? What's—"

"How could you?" Her voice trembled with fury and betrayal. "I trusted you!"

Michael frowned, confusion momentarily replacing his vigilance. "What are you talking about?"

"My research!" Rebecca nearly shouted. "It's gone all of it! Stolen from the Buzzer Tech servers."

"That's impossible," Michael replied, moving further from the crowd. "Olivia's security system is impenetrable."

"Well someone penetrated it," Rebecca snapped. "And according to the security logs, it was you, Michael."

"Me?" Michael's confusion deepened. "I've been at the charity gala all evening."

"The logs don't lie," Rebecca said coldly. "Your credentials accessed the system and downloaded my entire neural regeneration research database exactly when you were giving your speech. I checked the timestamps."

Michael's mind raced through possibilities. "Rebecca, I swear to you, I didn't—"

"Save it," she cut him off. "You used me just like Neuro-Gen did. I should have known better than to trust another Crawford."

The line went dead before Michael could respond. He stared at his phone, the implications crashing over him in waves. Someone had not only attempted to kill him tonight but had simultaneously framed him for stealing Rebecca's research—using his credentials at the exact time he would have the perfect alibi.

The System message updated in his vision:

[Assassination attempt survived. New threat detected: Identity compromise. Reward granted: Enhanced Reflexes Level 2 unlocked.]

Michael's jaw tightened as he rejoined his family, maintaining his composure despite the storm raging within. The evening's events had revealed the true scope of what he was facing.