Reincarnated With the Ultimate Son-in-law System

Chapter 2

The blue text hovered in the air, visible only to Michael.

[ULTIMATE SON-IN-LAW SYSTEM ACTIVATED] [Welcome, Host. Initializing...] [System benefits unlocked: Enhanced Perception, Physical Optimization] [First task: Survive the day without revealing your knowledge of the future. Reward: A blueprint for a smartphone company.]

Michael stared at the floating interface, his mind racing. Was he hallucinating? Had the murder been just a nightmare?

"Mr. Crawford?" His assistant's voice crackled through the phone he still held against his ear. "Are you there? Your morning meeting starts soon."

Michael cleared his throat. "Yes, Lisa. I'll... I'll be right there." He hung up, hands trembling.

The office around him was exactly as it had been five years ago—before his promotion, before his rise, before his death. The small desk with the family photo he'd later replace. The view of the neighboring building rather than the city skyline. The cheap desk chair that always leaned slightly to the left.

"This isn't possible," he whispered.

[It is entirely possible, Host. You have been given a second chance.]

Michael jumped at the text that appeared in response to his thought.

"Who are you?" he asked the empty room.

[I am the Ultimate System, designed to transform the Host into the ultimate man. I will assign tasks that will enhance your abilities and prepare you for success.]

Michael ran his hands over his face. "I've lost my mind."

A knock at the door interrupted his crisis. "Michael? You okay in there?" The door opened before he could respond, revealing Eric—his brother, his murderer—looking five years younger and very much alive.

Michael's body tensed, adrenaline flooding his system. In his mind, he could still see Eric's face illuminated by moonlight as he raised the shovel.

"Whoa, you look like you've seen a ghost," Eric laughed, leaning against the doorframe. "Late night?"

Michael forced himself to breathe. If this was real—if he'd truly returned to the past—he couldn't afford to reveal what he knew.

"Something like that," Michael managed, studying his brother's face. Had there always been that coldness in his eyes, or was he projecting his knowledge of the future?

"Well, shake it off. Dad wants us both in the executive meeting." Eric straightened his tie—the blue one Katherine had bought him for his birthday. "Big announcements today."

"Right," Michael nodded, rising from his chair. His younger body felt strange—less muscular, less confident in its movements.

[Warning: Heart rate elevated. Emotional control recommended.]

The blue text flashed, and Michael took a deep breath. He could do this. He had to.

"You coming?" Eric asked, already halfway out the door.

"Yeah," Michael replied, grabbing his jacket. "I'm right behind you."

The walk to the conference room was surreal. Employees he'd known—some who had attended his funeral in another timeline—greeted him casually. No one seemed to notice anything unusual about him, despite the fact that his world had just imploded.

"Morning, Mr. Crawford," Jason nodded as they passed in the hallway. Jason, who had drugged his drink and driven him to his death, now smiled politely.

Michael's jaw tightened. "Jason."

"Everything okay?" Jason asked, noticing Michael's tension.

"Fine," Michael replied curtly, continuing past.

[System Warning: Maintain normal relationships. Suspicious behavior will alert your enemies.]

The system was right. He needed to play his part—for now.

The executive boardroom was filled with familiar faces, including his father, Richard Crawford, sitting at the head of the table. The sight of his father—alive, healthy, unbroken by his son's death—nearly brought Michael to his knees.

"Michael, Eric, glad you could join us," Richard said, gesturing to the empty seats. "We were just discussing the quarterly projections."

Michael took his assigned seat—not at his father's right hand where he would eventually sit, but further down the table, still proving his worth in this timeline.

"Now," Richard continued, "as some of you know, we've been considering new directions for the company's expansion. I've decided it's time to create a special projects division, focused on emerging technologies and markets."

“I remember this meeting, this was when father had unexpectedly put me in charge of the struggling new division,” Michael thought to himself as he turned around to a corner.

“It was supposed to be a test, a test that many believed would prove my incompetence,” Michael continued in his thoughts.

"I've chosen someone to lead this initiative," Richard announced, scanning the room. "Someone who I believe has the vision and determination to make it succeed, despite the challenges."

Several executives straightened, anticipation clear on their faces.

"Michael," Richard said, turning to his son. "I'm giving you the opportunity to build something from the ground up. I expect you to select your own team and present a business plan within the month."

The room fell silent. Michael could feel the stares—some curious, some dismissive, some openly hostile. In the previous timeline, he'd been surprised, anxious, overwhelmed. Now, he felt only a cold determination.

"Thank you, Father," Michael replied, his voice steady. "I won't disappoint you."

"That remains to be seen," Richard said, though a small smile played at his lips. "You'll have limited resources to start. Prove the concept, and we'll discuss expansion."

Eric shifted beside Michael, his pen tapping rapidly against his notepad. "Congratulations, brother," he said, his smile not reaching his eyes.

Michael recognized the facade now—the practiced brotherly support masking resentment and ambition.

"Thank you, Eric," Michael replied coolly. "I'm sure I can count on your support."

"Always," Eric lied smoothly.

The meeting continued with other business matters, but Michael's mind was racing ahead. 

“I’ve returned to the past,” Michael said to himself as he rubbed his hands over his face.

“This seems unbelievable and I could get locked up in a psychiatric hospital if I told this to anyone,” He continued as he paced.

“I’ve been given a rare opportunity—to relive the pivotal moments of my career with the knowledge of how things would unfold.”

“This time, things will be different,” He said as he clenched his fists.

This time, he would win.

**

After the meeting, Michael retreated to his office, closing the door behind him. He needed to think, to plan.

[Congratulations on completing 1/2 first task, Host. Reward: Enhanced Perception Level 1 unlocked.]

Suddenly, Michael's vision sharpened. Colors became more vivid, details more pronounced. When he looked at the family photo on his desk, he noticed for the first time the way Katherine's hand rested possessively on Eric's shoulder, the slight incline of her body toward his brother rather than toward Michael himself.

The signs had been there all along.

A knock startled him from his thoughts.

"Come in," he called.

Katherine entered, radiant in a blue dress he remembered buying for her birthday. His murderer, his betrayer, his wife—looking at him with practiced affection.

"I heard the news," she said, closing the door behind her. "Special projects division? That's huge, Mike."

"It's an opportunity," he replied, keeping his voice neutral. "One I intend to make the most of."

She approached his desk, perching on the edge the way she used to when they were first dating. "You seem different today. Everything okay?"

Michael met her gaze steadily. "Just realizing some things, that's all."

"Good things, I hope?" She reached for his hand.

It took every ounce of control not to pull away from her touch. This woman had watched him die, had kissed his brother as he was buried alive.

"Time will tell," he replied, forcing a small smile.

Katherine studied him for a moment, her head tilting slightly. "Well, we should celebrate tonight. I'll make reservations at Luciano's."

"Actually," Michael said, withdrawing his hand naturally, "I need to start putting together my team and strategy. Rain check?"

A flash of irritation crossed her face before smoothing into understanding. "Of course. Work comes first. I'm proud of you, you know."

"Thank you," he said, the words tasting like ash.

After she left, Michael turned to the window, thinking about the months ahead. According to the prenuptial agreement his father had insisted upon, he and Katherine were legally bound for six more months before either could file for divorce without significant financial penalties. Six months to endure her presence, to pretend he didn't know her true nature.

Michael nodded to himself. He would build something different this time—not just a successful division, but a fortress against those who sought to destroy him.

"The game has changed," he whispered to his reflection in the window. "And this time, I'm playing to win."