She walked over to a massive, automated closet and pulled out a stack of neatly folded, high-end modern clothes.
"These belong to my ex-partner," Serena said, tossing them onto the bed. "He left them here when we broke up six months ago. They should fit your frame. Go take a hot shower. I'll have the kitchen unit prepare a fresh meal for you. We can finish this conversation when you look like a human being." Michael nodded. "Thank you, Serena." An hour later, the transformation was absolute. Michael stepped back into the dimly lit living room, and Serena almost didn't recognize him. The dust and grime were completely gone. He had shaved the rough stubble from his face, and his dark hair was neatly styled, combed back away from his sharp features. He was wearing a well-fitted, dark midnight-blue modern sweater and tailored black trousers. Without the ridiculous, oversized 80s suit hiding his frame, the clothes emphasized a lean, striking elegance. His posture was still perfectly straight, but now he looked incredibly sharp, sophisticated, and undeniably handsome. Serena looked up from her glass of wine and smiled, her eyes widening slightly. "Well. Look at you. The System actually hid a decent-looking man under all that thrift-store fabric." "The clothes are comfortable," Michael said smoothly, sitting back down on the couch. A sleek, automated tray floated out of the kitchen, settling a plate of freshly seared steak, seasoned rice, and local vegetables onto the coffee table between them. Michael’s stomach rumbled, and he didn't hesitate. He began to eat, his manners perfectly controlled but his pace fast. Serena poured herself another splash of red wine and leaned back against her chair, watching him. Now that he was clean, she felt a strange comfort around him. Eager to gather critical intelligence about his target, Michael finished his first few bites and smoothly steered the conversation toward her life. "You are the Chief Operations Manager for a global empire," Michael said, setting his fork down for a moment. "That is a massive amount of power for someone who spends her lunch break helping strangers in automated diners. Tell me about your work. Tell me about Vance Global." Serena laughed softly, taking a sip of her wine. "Honestly, Michael? It’s a nightmare. A highly profitable, terrifying nightmare. Vance Global practically owns the economic pulse of this entire country. We control the real estate, the transport grids, and the energy sectors." "And the Platinum Group?" Michael asked quietly. "We recently acquired a massive, sixty-percent controlling share in them," Serena explained, leaning her head back against the cushion. "That’s actually why I was monitoring your sector today. I was running a basic field check on their performance metrics. The whole structure is a mess, but the profits are endless." Michael took a slow sip of his water, his face completely calm, a perfect mask of casual interest. "And who commands this empire? Who is the man at the top?" Serena’s expression turned deeply serious, her voice dropping into a low, respectful whisper. "Chairman Ashley Vance. He’s a ghost himself, Michael. Nobody sees him. He operates entirely from his private citadel in the Upper Sector, shrouded in shadow. He doesn't go to shareholder meetings, and he doesn't do media interviews." "How did he build such a thing?" Michael asked, his fingers tightening slightly around his glass. "Old legends say he built the entire empire on the ruins of a massive, multi-million dollar 1980s syndicate," Serena said, swirling her wine. "The story goes that his original business partner mysteriously passed away from a sudden illness forty years ago, leaving everything to Ashley. Ashley took the assets, digitized them when the System arrived, and turned himself into a god. He is absolutely ruthless, Michael. He operates with total finality. Nobody touches his assets, nobody questions his accounting, and nobody enters his circle without his absolute permission." Michael nodded slowly, setting his glass back onto the table with a tiny, sharp click. His face remained completely serene, completely peaceful. Serena continued to talk, diving deeper into the inner financial workings of Vance Global, describing the security protocols, the corporate structure, and the massive vaults of wealth her boss controlled. She talked and talked, completely relaxed, completely happy to help a strange young man in need. She sat there pouring her heart out, completely unaware of the ultimate irony staring her in the face. She had no idea that the young, handsome accountant sitting comfortably on her couch, wearing her ex-boyfriend's clothes and eating her food, was the actual, rightful owner of every single dollar, every single building, and every single asset her boss had ever stolen. Michael listened to every word, his super-computer mind filing the data away into his ledger. The trap was set. He was inside the house. "A very interesting story, Serena," Michael said softly, his dead eyes flashing with a cold, terrifying promise in the dark room. "Let's see what happens when the real owner calls for an audit." Then they all went to sleep.Latest Chapter
Chapter 10
A small notification popped up in his mind:[Passive Skill: Ghost Physiology activated.][Data Processing Speed increased by 400%.][Warning: Unregistered corporate network detected. Identifying system anomalies...]Michael leaned back, a cold smile spreading across his face. "Unbelievable. The corporate System has the exact same flaws as a standard tax ledger."He found it almost instantly—a hidden backdoor in the company's digital infrastructure. It was a macro-level rounding error, a digital tax loophole built into the very code of the building's physical structure. Every time the company processed values, a fraction of a percent of "experience data" was redirected into a restricted zone below the building."The Sub-Basement Archive," Michael whispered.According to the corporate ledger, that area was marked as a 'low-level training dungeon' for new interns to learn basic data retrieval. But looking at the hidden numbers, Michael could see it was actually a dumping ground for comp
Chapter 9
At sleep Michael had a dream, the dream always started with the smell of burning copper and the bitter taste of almonds on the back of his tongue.Michael was on the floor. The marble tiles of his own living room felt freezing against his cheek, but his chest was on fire. He couldn't move his legs. Above him stood Ashley, his face cast in shadow, holding an empty vial. His laughter didn't sound human; it echoed like tearing metal. Behind him, his family lay still, their faces blurred out by a terrifying gray mist. His bank accounts, his real estate holdings, his life's work—all of it was being sucked into a digital vortex on a massive screen behind her head.“You were always too soft, Michael,” his voice hissed, vibrating through his teeth. “A good auditor, maybe. But a terrible player.”He tried to scream, but only black fluid spilled from his lips. He had been dead for three months. He could feel the rot in his bones. He could feel the absolute finality of his failure.Then, the dar
Chapter 8
She walked over to a massive, automated closet and pulled out a stack of neatly folded, high-end modern clothes."These belong to my ex-partner," Serena said, tossing them onto the bed. "He left them here when we broke up six months ago. They should fit your frame. Go take a hot shower. I'll have the kitchen unit prepare a fresh meal for you. We can finish this conversation when you look like a human being."Michael nodded. "Thank you, Serena."An hour later, the transformation was absolute.Michael stepped back into the dimly lit living room, and Serena almost didn't recognize him. The dust and grime were completely gone. He had shaved the rough stubble from his face, and his dark hair was neatly styled, combed back away from his sharp features. He was wearing a well-fitted, dark midnight-blue modern sweater and tailored black trousers. Without the ridiculous, oversized 80s suit hiding his frame, the clothes emphasized a lean, striking elegance. His posture was still perfectly str
Chapter 7
The apartment was stunning. It featured minimalist design, clean white leather furniture, and a massive glass wall that showed a breathtaking view of the glowing Lagos skyline. It was silent, peaceful, and smelled faintly of expensive lavender oil.Michael walked in, his heavy shoes tracking a bit of dust onto the clean floor. He sat down on the edge of a sleek, modern white couch, keeping his posture perfectly straight despite his physical exhaustion.Serena walked into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a glass of warm water, handing it to him. She sat down on an armchair opposite him, crossing her legs, her sharp eyes studying every inch of his face."Alright," Serena said, her voice serious and demanding. "Talk to me. You look like a twenty-year-old kid who just failed his basic corporate entry exams, but when you speak, you sound like... I don't even know. Who are you? What happened to you today?"Michael took a slow sip of the water, feeling the warmth spread through h
Chapter 6
A sudden wave of deep, cold despair washed over him. He was completely homeless. He had no money, no food, no identification, and no shelter. In the 1980s, he could have walked into any barracks or boardroom in the city and commanded immediate respect. Now, he was a nameless, penniless ghost standing in the shadow of his enemy's fortress, completely locked out of the world.The night air began to grow cold. Michael stepped back into a dark alleyway directly opposite the Vance Global skyscraper, trying to shield himself from the biting wind.He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cheap, plastic black burner phone. The HR representative at the Platinum Group had thrown it onto his desk that morning, telling him it was for mandatory company tracking. He didn't know how to use its smart functions, but he knew how to read the digital display. He pressed a button, checking the time. It was nearly 9:00 PM.As he pulled his hand out of the deep pocket, his fingers accidentally caught t
Chapter 5
Michael walked back into the open-floor office of the Platinum Group of Companies. The heavy, warm food box was gripped tightly in his left hand, but he wasn't thinking about the grilled meat anymore. His mind was spinning from the name printed on that glowing metallic card resting deep inside his pocket.‘Serena London. Chief Operations Manager, Vance Global.’He sat down in his cramped cubicle. The blue neon lights overhead flickered quietly, casting a pale glow across his cheap desk. He set the food box aside and stared at the transparent glass terminal in front of him. To a regular man from the 1980s, this technology would be a terrifying nightmare. Floating 3D data streams pulse in mid-air. Light-nodes wave gently, waiting for a human touch to expand them into massive sheets of information. The user interface was completely smooth, completely digital, and completely alien compared to the clunky, static green-text monitors Michael had used to manage his multi-million dollar sh
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