THE TRASH SON-IN-LAW'S ULTIMATE SYSTEM

The First Task

Chapter 2 – The First Task

The rain hadn’t stopped since the gala ended. It fell in fine silver threads, coating the streets and washing the night in a steady rhythm. Liam stood under the awning of the hotel, motionless, his black suit clinging to his shoulders. The noise of laughter and music from hours ago had vanished, leaving only the sound of the city breathing.

He should have felt humiliated. Instead, there was only stillness.

Inside his mind, the voice returned—quiet, calm, almost human.

> “Liam Grey.”

His pupils narrowed slightly. He didn’t speak aloud.

> “You have been recognized as a potential candidate for the World Reset Program.”

The words echoed as if spoken from behind glass. Liam glanced toward the street—no one there.

Potential candidate? he thought. For what?

> “The program evaluates individuals whose lives have reached an irreversible threshold. You qualify.”

His brow furrowed, just slightly. “And if I refuse?”

> “Refusal is accepted. The program will move on to another host.”

He waited. The voice didn’t press, didn’t tempt—just waited, patient and knowing. The faint rain caught the light on his face, outlining a calm that didn’t belong to a man recently ridiculed.

After a moment, he asked, “What does this program do?”

> “It balances the scales. Those who have been broken are offered a new equation.”

The phrasing was strange—mathematical, yet deliberate. He sensed a faint emotion behind it, something like curiosity.

> “Your first task has been assigned.”

A white flash cut across his vision—not light, but data. It lasted less than a second. When it cleared, a simple sentence burned behind his eyelids:

> TASK 1: Retrieve the missing audit file from Hunt Group’s subsidiary, NovaTek.

Liam’s breath fogged in the air. He knew NovaTek—it was one of Hunt Group’s minor tech divisions, recently hit with rumors of financial manipulation. George Hunt had brushed the matter aside at meetings, claiming it was handled.

He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Why this task?”

> “Every beginning is a choice. What you recover tonight determines the equation that follows.”

The voice faded. No explanation, no reward promised. Only silence.

Liam stood still for a few seconds more, then stepped into the rain.

By the time he reached the main street, the city had sunk into that in-between hour where even the night traffic slowed. Neon lights reflected in puddles, turning the pavement into a fractured mirror.

NovaTek’s branch office wasn’t far—a twenty-minute walk from the hotel. He didn’t bother calling for a cab. Each step echoed softly against the concrete.

The building was dark except for one window glowing on the top floor. Security should’ve been tight, but the side entrance keypad blinked green as he approached.

He paused.

> “Access authorized,” the faint voice whispered, though there was no one in sight.

The door clicked open.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of machine oil and paper. Rows of computers lined the walls, silent but warm. Liam’s shoes barely made a sound as he crossed the marble floor.

He knew where to go—Emma had once mentioned NovaTek’s financial department when she was complaining about late reports. Second floor, right corridor, file room on the left.

Every instinct told him this was impossible, yet his mind stayed clear.

The file room’s door was ajar. Light spilled through the crack.

Someone was inside.

He approached quietly, listening. The sound of a drawer sliding shut, followed by a muttered curse. Then footsteps—hurried. A man in a gray suit emerged, clutching a brown envelope.

When he saw Liam, he froze. “You—what are you doing here?”

Liam tilted his head slightly. “Same question.”

The man swallowed hard. “You shouldn’t—look, just pretend you didn’t see anything.” He tried to brush past, but Liam’s hand came up—not aggressive, just steady.

“NovaTek audit files?” Liam asked.

The man’s eyes darted. “You don’t understand—George Hunt ordered this sealed. You think I want trouble?”

So it was true. Liam’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered beneath it. “Give me the file.”

The man shook his head and stepped back. “Don’t play hero. You’re nobody here.”

For a moment, the rain outside filled the silence. Then a whisper brushed the edge of Liam’s thoughts again:

> “Equation opportunity: persuasion or restraint.”

He didn’t know how he knew what to do—but his voice came out low, steady, almost hypnotic. “You’re not meant to keep that, are you?”

The man’s grip faltered. Confusion crossed his features. He blinked twice, as if struggling to remember why he was holding the envelope. Then he sighed and thrust it forward. “Take it. I don’t need this kind of problem.”

Liam accepted the envelope. “You never saw me.”

The man nodded quickly and hurried down the hall.

When Liam opened the envelope, he found printed spreadsheets and transaction records—nothing dramatic at first glance. But one detail caught his attention: multiple hidden transfers signed off by Marcus Hale, the same vice-president who’d mocked him at the gala.

He smiled faintly—not joy, not surprise. Just understanding.

The voice returned, softer now, almost approving.

> “Task completed. Balance adjusted.”

He closed the envelope carefully. “What balance?”

> “Observation: your actions create correction. Continue, and the equation deepens.”

The faint lights overhead flickered once. When they steadied, the voice was gone.

Outside, the rain had eased into a mist. The streets shimmered, washed clean. Liam walked slowly, the envelope tucked under his arm. Every step felt deliberate, measured.

He didn’t fully understand what had happened—how the door opened, why the man obeyed—but the part of him that always watched from behind calm eyes accepted it easily.

Whatever this System was, it had purpose. And for the first time in years, so did he.

He looked up at the skyline, where the Hunt Group tower rose like a blade through the fog.

> “Equation initiated,” the voice murmured faintly, fading into the distance.

Liam’s lips curved—barely a smile, more a quiet acknowledgment.

“Then let’s see where it leads.”

The clouds parted just enough for a sliver of moonlight to touch the wet streets. In its reflection, Liam Grey’s shadow stretched long and sharp, as though the city itself had started to recognize him.