THE HIDDEN HEIR'S VENGEANCE

CHAPTER 15 - Quantum Master

The thugs exchanged terrified looks. Without another word, they bolted for the back door, abandoning Salvas, who glared at Matthew with pure hatred before fleeing into the darkness himself.

Silence returned to the warehouse. Only the sounds of night creatures echoed outside. The police sirens that had roared moments ago now faded into the distance.

Matthew Thomas smirked faintly, shook his head, and walked toward Hector, extending his hand.

Hector did not take it immediately. He stared at Matthew with sharp wariness, like a wounded wolf. “You… you destroyed them without touching them.”

“Physical violence is inefficient. Money is a more precise weapon,” Matthew replied calmly. “Can you stand?”

Hector spat blood again, then accepted Matthew’s hand and rose unsteadily. “Why?” he asked.

“Why did I save you?” Matthew handed him a silk handkerchief from his pocket.

“There’s no free lunch in this city, sir,” Hector said, wiping his face roughly. “Men like you don’t save sewer rats like me out of kindness. What do you want? My kidney? Or do I have to kill someone for you?”

“I don’t need a killer,” Matthew said, locking eyes with him. “I need a ghost.”

Matthew raised the tablet, displaying a complex logistics chart. “As far as I know, you’re a former military logistics operator, dishonorably discharged. Because you smuggled medicine to save your sister’s orphanage. Is that right?”

Hector nodded slowly, eyes never leaving Matthew. “I know you can move cargo from China to New York without a single customs scanner blinking.”

Hector’s eyes widened. “You dug that deep into me?”

“I need someone to manage a shadow supply chain for Lane Corp,” Matthew said bluntly. “Materials in, products out, no trace, no names. The salary is ten times what you make breaking your back at this port, and the main bonus…”

Matthew let the sentence hang, then tapped a button on the tablet. Hector’s cracked phone suddenly rang in his pocket. Startled, he pulled it out. A bank notification glowed on the screen.

[Incoming Transfer: $500,000. Vega Cartel] Debt Settlement: PAID IN FULL.]

Hector stared at the screen, then at Matthew. His knees went weak, not from pain, but from the crushing weight lifted from his shoulders after years of struggle.

“Your debt is cleared. Your sister’s orphanage is safe. Your mother’s house has been redeemed,” Matthew said calmly. “You belong to me now, Hector. Not as a slave, but as an asset.”

Hector swallowed hard, emotions churning across his hardened face. Suspicion remained, but gratitude and awe overwhelmed it. The man before him was no ordinary human but a monster with the face of a savior.

“You… you paid five hundred thousand dollars just to recruit me?” Hector’s voice was hoarse.

“I paid for absolute loyalty and competence,” Matthew corrected. “If you betray me, I can destroy you as easily as I freed you. Do you understand your utility?”

Hector took a deep breath, cold air filling his lungs. For the first time in ten years, he felt like he had a future.

He dropped to one knee, not out of coercion, but respect.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Boss,” Hector said, bowing his head. “But if you can do that… I’ll follow you into hell.”

[MISSION COMPLETE]

[New Asset Acquired: Hector Alvarez (Logistics / Underground Intelligence)]

[Reward: ARC Level Increased. ‘Shadow Economy’ Feature Unlocked.]

[Vitality Recovery: +20 Points. Health: 85% (partially recovered after mission).

Matthew smiled faintly. The pain in his head vanished, replaced by a warm surge of energy.

“Get up, Hector,” Matthew ordered. “We have a lot of work to do. Monolith won’t build itself.”

Hector stood tall, his swollen eyes now burning with iron resolve. “What’s your first order, sir?”

Matthew turned and walked toward the warehouse door, his black coat fluttering in the night wind. “Erase your tracks here. Tomorrow morning, meet me at the address I send to your phone. We’re starting a logistics war against half of New York City.”

“Yes,” Hector replied firmly. “Your command, Quantum Master.”

Matthew paused at the title. Quantum Master. It sounded excessive, but considering what he had just done by manipulating someone’s fate through data and probability, perhaps it was not entirely wrong.

Outside, the rain kept falling, but for Matthew, the true storm had only just begun. He had secured his first pawn on the underground chessboard. Now, it was time to hunt the king.

***

The next day,

That morning, Matthew and Viviane were forced to confront a patent case that was critical to the Monolith project, one that had been stolen by Mark Davies, a former Lane Corp employee consumed by hatred and a desire for revenge against Matthew. To defend it, the couple had to face Mark Davies in court.

The courtroom of the Southern District of New York felt cold and sterile. Tall mahogany paneled walls loomed overhead, as if looking down in judgment on anyone who dared to gamble their fate beneath the judge’s gavel.

But to Matthew Thomas, this room was nothing more than another chessboard, one governed by slightly stricter rules.

Mark Davies sat at the plaintiff’s table, dressed in a navy Italian designer suit expensive enough to feed a family for a year.

Seated beside him was Jonathan Davies, his uncle, a man infamous for his ruthlessness, an old shark in the world of patent law and venture capital. Jonathan’s face was calm, radiating the quiet arrogance of a man who had not lost a case in two decades.

Across the room, Viviane Lane clenched her hands beneath the table. She looked tense. “They brought in the best legal team in the city, Matt. Jonathan is claiming that Monolith’s core algorithm is a derivative of their firm’s research from last year. If we lose here, the project could die before it even begins,” she whispered anxiously.

Matthew did not look up. He appeared absorbed in the tablet before him, but his eyes were focused on something far deeper. Streams of neon blue data floated in the air, invisible to everyone except him.

“Relax, Vie,” Matthew replied, his voice flat yet steady, almost soothing. “They are not looking for justice. They are looking for a settlement. They want our money.”

“We are talking about a core patent, Mr. Thomas,” whispered John Smith, Lane Corp’s attorney, cold sweat beading at his temples. “The evidence they submitted is very convincing, especially that digital signature…”

“Forged,” Matthew cut in sharply, his gaze shifting toward Mark. Mark grinned back at him, a smug, premature smile that made Matthew’s stomach twist.

The presiding judge struck the gavel. “The court will resume. Counsel for the plaintiff, please present your closing argument.”

Jonathan Davies rose immediately, straightening his tie with theatrical flair. “Your Honor, the evidence is clear. Our client, Mark Davies, developed this framework while he was still employed by Lane Corp. Matthew Thomas, with all due respect, is merely an accountant who happened to marry the boss’s daughter. The idea that he could conceive a revolutionary algorithm overnight is… absurd.”

A ripple spread through the courtroom. Whispers filled the air as the room began to buzz. Financial journalists seated in the back row typed furiously. The narrative of a parasite son-in-law stealing an employee’s ideas was a scandal too tempting to ignore.