2025-10-31 20:50:30Anthony stood frozen for a moment, staring at Dr. Kenneth in disbelief. “What did you just say?” His voice trembled—not from fear, but from the boiling anger rising inside him.
The doctor folded his arms and gave a condescending smirk. “I said, if you want your mother’s body, you’ll have to pay double the amount. Or you can go home.”
Anthony clenched his fists. The last thread of patience within him was wearing thin. “Fine,” he said quietly. “Give me your account number.”
Dr. Kenneth chuckled, convinced he was bluffing. “You think this is a joke? That’s $800,000 in total.”
Anthony said nothing. Within seconds, he completed the transfer. The notification buzzed on the doctor’s phone, and his arrogant smile faltered. “Impossible,” he muttered, staring at the screen. “You actually—”
Before he could finish, Anthony said evenly, “Now release my mother’s body.”
Dr. Kenneth hesitated, then scoffed. “You know what? I don’t like your tone. You’ve wasted enough of my time. Pay another $1,000,000 for the delay.”
Anthony didn’t flinch. He pulled out his phone and transferred the money immediately.
The doctor’s jaw dropped as his phone buzzed again. His greed had pushed him too far, but the reality of what he was dealing with hadn’t yet sunk in. “Who are you?” he asked, voice unsteady.
Anthony’s expression was cold and unreadable. “Just someone who wants to bury his mother in peace.”
As Dr. Kenneth turned to make arrangements, his phone rang again. Seeing the caller ID, he smirked—it was Oscar. “Ah, Mr. Patrick,” he said smoothly. “Yes, your stepson just paid everything, even threw in a little extra. He’s about to claim his mother’s body.”
Oscar’s laughter echoed through the receiver. “Don’t let him,” he ordered. “I don’t care what he paid. Make sure her body is confiscated and handed to the organ harvesters. End of discussion.” Then he hung up.
Dr. Kenneth slipped his phone into his pocket and turned to Anthony, feigning pity. “I’m afraid it’s too late,” he said mockingly. “Even though you paid, we’re already finalising the deal with the organ harvesting firm. You can’t claim the body.”
Anthony’s eyes darkened. His hands trembled, not from fear but from fury. “What did you just say?”
“Security!” Dr. Kenneth called out with a grin. “Keep an eye on this one. He might do something stupid.”
The guards surrounded Anthony. The doctor turned to leave, but before he could take two steps, his phone rang again.
He glanced at the screen—and froze.
His arrogance drained from his face. Slowly, he answered, his voice suddenly submissive. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I didn’t know... No, no, please, sir, forgive me. It won’t happen again. I understand completely. Yes, sir.”
Every “sir” came out smaller than the last. Sweat formed on his forehead. When the call ended, he stood there shaking.
Then, before anyone could understand what was happening, Dr. Kenneth fell to his knees before Anthony. “Please, forgive me,” he begged, pressing his forehead to the floor. “I didn’t know, I swear. Please, sir, have mercy.”
The guards exchanged puzzled looks.
Anthony stared at him, confused but composed. “Stand up,” he said calmly.
Dr. Kenneth couldn’t even raise his eyes. “Please, don’t make me—”
“Stand up,” Anthony repeated, his tone sharper this time.
The doctor obeyed, trembling.
“Here’s what you’ll do,” Anthony said coldly. “Place my mother’s body in the best morgue available. Return every cent I sent you. And after that, I never want to see your face again.”
“Yes, sir,” Dr. Kenneth stammered. Within seconds, he pulled out his phone and transferred the full amount back to Anthony. Then he turned to the guards and shouted, “Throw me out of this hospital!”
The guards hesitated, confused. “Sir?”
“Do it!” he yelled.
Moments later, they dragged him out.
Anthony sat quietly in the hallway, his heart heavy but calm. The weight of his mother’s loss pressed on him, yet a strange strength filled him—a strength that wasn’t his alone. He remembered his grandfather’s words: You are never alone. I’m always watching from the shadows.
For the first time, he believed them.
As the new doctor prepared his mother’s body, Anthony’s phone buzzed. It was a text from Vionna: Are you coming to the party tonight? I saved your seat.
He looked at the message for a long moment before standing up. He had no reason to go to a party—but something in him whispered that he should.
When he reached home, Fenrick and Liora were waiting anxiously. “Anthony!” Liora exclaimed. “Where have you been? We’ve been worried sick!”
Fenrick added, “We saw everything online. Darren taking Olivia, the expulsion... Man, you’ve had the worst day imaginable.”
Anthony smiled faintly and set his keys on the table. “It’s fine,” he said simply.
Liora frowned. “Fine? Anthony, you lost your mother, your girlfriend, your scholarship, your job—”
“It’s nothing,” he interrupted quietly.
They stared at him, stunned. This wasn’t the Anthony they knew—the one who broke down over every setback. There was something new in his eyes now. Something deeper, calmer, and far more dangerous.
Without another word, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
Fenrick turned to Liora. “He’s... different,” he said in disbelief.
Liora nodded slowly. “It’s like something inside him changed completely.”
When Anthony emerged, he looked fresh and composed. He wore a clean black suit, simple yet elegant.
Liora tried to lighten the mood. “So, are you going to Vionna’s birthday party?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Can we come too?” Fenrick asked eagerly. “We didn’t get VIP invitations.”
Anthony smiled faintly. “You won’t need them,” he said, holding up the golden card. “Vionna gave me this herself.”
They exchanged astonished glances.
Half an hour later, Anthony’s car pulled up in front of the most extravagant venue in the city. Every inch of the place shimmered with luxury. Expensive cars lined the driveway, and laughter spilled from the grand hall.
Fenrick whistled. “This is insane. I feel like I’m breathing money.”
Anthony didn’t respond. He stepped out of the car and walked toward the entrance, his friends following behind.
Inside, chandeliers sparkled like captured stars. The hall was alive with music, perfume, and laughter. Fenrick and Liora found a seat near the back while Anthony moved toward the VIP section.
As he approached, two bulky security guards blocked his path. “VIP only,” one of them said sharply.
“I have a VIP card,” Anthony said, handing it over.
The guard barely looked at it before shoving it back at him. “Nice try. Get out.”
The push drew attention. Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Before Anthony could respond, a familiar voice cut through the noise. “He’s with me.”
Everyone turned. Vionna descended the grand staircase, her silver gown glittering under the lights. She walked straight to Anthony, ignoring the murmurs, and took his hand. “Sit beside me,” she said softly.
The hall fell into a stunned silence as she led him to her table.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
“Isn’t that Anthony Parker? The expelled student?”
“What’s he doing here?” “Look at his suit—did he rent it?” “Maybe he’s Vionna’s new charity case.”Anthony heard every word but didn’t flinch. He simply sat down beside Vionna, his expression unreadable.
Moments later, Jackson Derrick—Liora’s arrogant boyfriend—walked onto the stage, microphone in hand. “Well, well,” he said loudly, scanning the crowd. “Seems we have an unexpected guest tonight.”
All eyes turned to Anthony again.
Jackson sneered. “This is an elite party, not a shelter. Anthony Parker, stand up and leave before I make you.”
The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter. “Tell him, Jackson!” someone shouted.
Jackson smirked. “But hey, I’m generous. I’ll give him a choice. Either walk out now, or challenge me by paying for the most expensive wine in this hall.”
The laughter grew louder. Even Joanna, Anthony’s stepsister, stood up and joined in. “Pay for a drink?” she said mockingly. “He couldn’t even pay his mother’s hospital bills or afford to buy his girlfriend a bag! What’s he going to do—wash dishes for it?”
The crowd howled with laughter. Joanna basked in it, playing to her audience like a comedian. Only Vionna, Fenrick, and Liora remained silent, their faces filled with pity.
Vionna leaned toward him and whispered, “I’m so sorry, Anthony. Please don’t take it to heart. They don’t know what they’re saying.”
Anthony looked at her, calm and composed. “You don’t need to apologise.”
Then he stood up slowly, his chair scraping against the floor. The laughter faded slightly as he walked toward the stage.
Jackson smirked. “What’s this? You actually want to challenge me?”
Anthony’s gaze was cold, steady, and unshaken. “Yes,” he said simply. “I accept your challenge.”
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Latest Chapter
Chapter 200: The Breath of the Living Hive
The revelation from Proxima Centauri acted like a catalyst, turning the slow-burning peace of Earth into a frantic, creative upheaval. If the "Green Mind" could consume the machinery of the Owners and turn golden needles into trellis-work, then the survivors of the Diaspora no longer needed to hide within the atmosphere’s protective shell. The "Galaxy-Common" required a new kind of architecture—not the sterile, pressurized cans of the old Echelon space programs, but a living infrastructure. Across the lunar plains and the Martian canyons, the first "Hive-Cities" began to emerge, grown from the fusion of the Iron Bloom and the collective intent of the Weavers.Anthony stood on the rim of the Shackleton Crater at the lunar south pole, watching the birth of the first Hive-City, "Vane’s Rest." It wasn't being built with cranes or welding torches. Instead, a massive cluster of Ghost-Fir seeds, enriched with the Bio-Steel nutrients of the Highland Vault, had been planted into the lunar ice.
Chapter 199: The Resonance of the Distant Neighbor
The dawn of the dual-sovereignty on Earth had brought a strange, vibrating stillness to the Highlands, but the true magnitude of the "Green Mind" was not contained by the planet’s atmosphere. As Anthony Jodah sat in the central archive of the vault, now draped in the glowing moss of the Emergence, a signal arrived that shattered the local peace. It came through the deep-space relay, a transmission that had traveled over four light-years from the Alpha Centauri system. It was not the structured, binary pings they had expected from the Heritage. Instead, it was a high-frequency, melodic ripple—a song of growth that matched the "Sovereign" frequency of the Highland forests. The Heritage had reached Proxima Centauri, but they hadn't arrived at a dead star. They had arrived at a destination that was already answering their call.Anthony watched the data-stream on the Bio-Steel monitors, his silver-gold eyes reflecting the frantic movement of the golden threads. Beside him, Mark was struggl
Chapter 198: The Whisper of the Green Mind
The peace that followed the closing of the Great Ledger was not a stagnant thing, but a period of profound, subterranean shifting. While Anthony Jodah had finally allowed his silver-laced hands to find rest in the soil of the Highland glens, the world he had helped "Integrate" was beginning to dream. It happened first in the deep, untrodden valleys where the Paleo-Bloom had first taken hold. The Ghost-Firs, no longer tethered to the rigid mandates of the star-tally, were beginning to communicate in a language that transcended the silver lace. It was a cognitive resonance—a "Green Mind" emerging from the collective neural network of the global forest. For the humans living within the violet mist, the first sign was not a sound, but a shared sensation of being watched by a presence that felt older than the Echelon and newer than the morning.Anthony noticed it while tending to a row of light-ferns near the vault’s entrance. The plants didn't just react to his touch; they anticipated it.
Chapter 197: The Quiet of the First Seed
The Highland Vault, once a temple of steel and a fortress of frantic calculations, had finally surrendered to the greenery. Lichen crawled over the brass fittings of the primary consoles, and the deep-core hum had softened into a gentle, organic thrum that mimicked a resting heartbeat. Anthony Jodah sat on the weathered stone steps of the outer gantry, his fingers idly tracing the silver lace that still shimmered beneath his skin. It no longer burned with the cold fire of the audit. Instead, it felt like a warm, subterranean river, a part of the landscape rather than a brand of ownership. He was the Last Auditor, a man whose job had been to balance a ledger that had finally been thrown into the fire.The world below him was a tapestry of violet and amber. The Highland glens were no longer a refuge for the desperate; they were a cradle for a new kind of civilization. Houses were grown from the roots of the Iron Bloom, their windows fashioned from the translucent resins of the Ghost-Fir
Chapter 197: The Quiet of the First Seed
The Highland Vault, once a temple of steel and a fortress of frantic calculations, had finally surrendered to the greenery. Lichen crawled over the brass fittings of the primary consoles, and the deep-core hum had softened into a gentle, organic thrum that mimicked a resting heartbeat. Anthony Jodah sat on the weathered stone steps of the outer gantry, his fingers idly tracing the silver lace that still shimmered beneath his skin. It no longer burned with the cold fire of the audit. Instead, it felt like a warm, subterranean river, a part of the landscape rather than a brand of ownership. He was the Last Auditor, a man whose job had been to balance a ledger that had finally been thrown into the fire.The world below him was a tapestry of violet and amber. The Highland glens were no longer a refuge for the desperate; they were a cradle for a new kind of civilization. Houses were grown from the roots of the Iron Bloom, their windows fashioned from the translucent resins of the Ghost-Fir
Chapter 196: The Loom of Proxima
The silence that followed the departure of the Primary Witness was not the silence of a vacuum, but the quiet of a long-held breath finally released. For the first time in ten thousand years, the Earth did not belong to a ledger; it belonged to the dirt, the rain, and the hands that tended them. Anthony stood on the Highland gantry, his silver-streaked hair ruffled by a wind that no longer tasted of industrial sulfur or the metallic tang of the star-tally’s surveillance. Beside him, the vault’s obsidian doors stood wide open, no longer a fortress but a historical monument—a shell discarded by a species that had outgrown its cage. The "ARBITRATOR" status had faded from his vision, replaced by a clarity so profound it was almost disorienting. He was no longer a host for a galactic mandate; he was simply a man with a garden that now spanned three worlds.But the "Sovereign Bloom" was not a stagnant victory. Without the restrictive grids of the Surveyor to hold it back, the Paleo-logic wa
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