THE ANOMALY: RISE OF A BILLIONAIRE

2

Jake stood on the balcony of the old apartment he rented under a fake name. A cigarette burned between his fingers, its smoke curling into the night air.

The words of that mysterious man still echoed in his head.

“Who is he really? How could he know the chip in my body doesn’t work?”

Jake stared at the city lights in the distance, then slowly closed his eyes. Shadows of the past he always buried began to surface again.

Seventeen years ago.

Ashborne still felt foreign to him back then. Jake was only twelve, a skinny kid with a worn-out blue backpack, walking home from public elementary school.

The rain poured heavily, soaking his shoes and plastering his uniform to his skin. Jake walked alone through an alley he should’ve avoided. But he wanted to get home quickly, to help his mother sell food to support his drunken, hot-tempered father.

“Dad will be mad if I’m late again. He’ll hit me for sure,” he muttered, quickening his pace.

Suddenly, a black van stopped at the end of the alley. The sliding door opened, revealing a man in a gray uniform wearing a mask.

“Jake Caleb?”

Jake froze, his heart racing. “T-that’s me… who are you?”

The man didn’t answer. Two more men jumped out, moving fast.

“What are you—” Jake didn’t get the chance to scream before a damp cloth pressed against his mouth. A sharp chemical odor stabbed his nose. His head spun, vision blurring.

The last thing he heard was a cold murmur: “Subject twelve, marked.”

Jake woke up in a white room. Neon lights above blinded his eyes. His body was strapped to a metal table. Around him, other kids his age—some crying, some already motionless.

A scientist in a white coat stood beside him, scribbling notes on a board.

“Who are you!” Jake shouted in panic.

The scientist grinned wide. “Your savior.”

“Let me go! I need to go home before my dad gets mad!”

“You don’t need your father anymore. You’ve been chosen for Project Revenant. The government needs new soldiers. Weak bodies will be strengthened. Children like you are the best test subjects. No records. No families. You’ll vanish from the world, reborn as weapons. The chips implanted in you will be different from normal citizens. We will control and care for you as we would pets.”

Jake thrashed. “Let me go! I’m not weak!”

The scientist stared coldly. “You were chosen because you are fragile. Your bones break easily, your lungs are weak. You’re perfect for this experiment.”

A large needle pierced his arm. Blue liquid surged into his veins. His body trembled, muscles burning from within. The kids beside him screamed, one by one going still.

Jake cried out. “I won’t… I won’t die!”

The machine beside him beeped erratically. Data on the monitor spiked uncontrollably. The scientist frowned.

“Impossible… his body is rejecting the serum. This should be a total failure.”

Jake clenched his teeth as pain surged through his bones. Yet amid the agony, something ignited inside him—like embers in his blood.

“Seems you’ll need a higher dose,” the scientist muttered.

Jake’s eyelids grew heavy, his mouth sluggish. His vision dimmed, the last thing he saw was the scientist stepping away.

Back to the present.

Jake opened his eyes. The cigarette’s smoke vanished into the night breeze.

“Bastard,” he muttered, fists tightening as memories of his ruined life flooded back.

Their bodies had been discarded. Jake, deemed a failure, had woken among the lifeless kids meant to be incinerated.

Far from home, in an empty small town. Lucky enough, he escaped and was cared for by a kind stranger for two years.

No one knew that his “failed” experiment made him an anomaly—undetectable by the government system, immune to illness, stronger than most men. He barely tired.

But when he returned to Ashborne, he discovered his parents were dead. The parents of every child taken had been murdered on purpose.

A brutal knock snapped him out of his thoughts. Jake stood up instantly.

“Who the hell’s coming this late?” he muttered.

The door creaked open and, before he could speak, two massive hands yanked his collar forward. His back slammed against the wall, breath knocked out of him.

“Wha—” He couldn’t finish. Two hulking men pinned him on either side, their faces blank, their grip like stone.

From the end of the hall, an older man in a shabby suit emerged. His narrow eyes gleamed with greed. James, the landlord.

“Brad!” James sneered. “Six months. You think I’m a saint, letting some freeloader live here?”

Jake sucked in air. “Ah, Mr. James! I actually have goods to sell, but the shops are closed. Still in raw form, you see!”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the golden wristwatch he had stolen earlier—worth tens of thousands of dollars.

“Once I sell this, I’ll pay every cent I owe, plus six months in advance. Tomorrow, I swear!” Jake bargained.

“What?” James chuckled. “You think life is that simple?”

Jake forced a nervous laugh. “Then… what do you want me to do, Mr. James?”

James flicked his gaze at his bodyguards. “Teach him a lesson. So he remembers who’s in charge.”

The first man’s fist slammed into Jake’s stomach. He doubled over, gasping. The second’s punch cracked across his jaw, blood spilling from his lips.

Jake tried to kick back, but exhaustion weighed on him after the earlier chase. Two against one was too much. He crumpled to the floor.

James stepped closer, driving his shoe into Jake’s ribs. “You’re no tenant of mine anymore. Get out, trash. And I’ll take this watch.”

Jake lay helpless as the watch was ripped from his hand.

“Take his garbage too!” James ordered.

The bodyguards disappeared into the room, returning with his ragged backpack.

“Nothing else, sir. Just this.”

“Of course! He’s dirt poor! Works delivery two days a week—what could he possibly afford?” James scoffed.

He snatched the bag, smacking it across Jake’s head.

“Get lost, cockroach!”

His laughter echoed as he turned away. The bodyguards dragged Jake to the stairwell, shoving him down. He tumbled down several steps before landing hard.

Jake crawled, blood mixing with rain dripping through the leaky roof. “Damn it… everything’s gone…”

James and his men’s footsteps faded. Slowly, Jake forced himself up.

He staggered outside the tenement, collapsing on the sidewalk. Light rain fell, cold against his battered body. His eyes stared blankly at the busy street, where strangers passed without a care.

“I don’t even have a bed anymore,” he whispered, hoarse.

The low hum of an engine broke the silence. A sleek black car stopped in front of him. The passenger window slid down, revealing a familiar face—the man in the gray suit from the alley.

“Get in,” the man said.

Jake scoffed, struggling to his feet. “I don’t ride with strangers.”

The man gave a faint smile. “Ah, I never told you my name earlier. Damian Crowne. And you need money. Don’t lie to yourself.”

Jake froze. Those words struck deep, reopening James’s fresh wound.

“I can handle myself,” Jake muttered, unsteady.

“Really?” Damian leaned closer. “If you could, you wouldn’t be sitting here, drenched and broke, face bloodied in front of this dump.”

Jake clenched his jaw. Rain poured harder. At last, he opened the door and slid into the seat.

“That’s better. Why’s it so hard to accept money? Like I said before, we’d meet again, didn’t I?” Damian said cheerfully.

Jake didn’t answer. He turned away, staring out the window, letting the luxury car glide away from the slums he had called home for six years.