The hospital was an old gray building that looked like it hadn't gotten any funding for ages.
Arthur practically burst through the entrance doors, breathing heavily. His hair was all messy, his work clothes soaked with sweat, and there was still dried blood at the corner of his mouth from Veronica’s slap. A nurse sitting at the reception desk raised her eyes, looking exhausted. "My mom," Arthur gasped, leaning on the counter. "Eleanor Moore. An ambulance brought her in. Please, where is she?" The nurse typed slowly into her computer. Arthur wanted to scream at her to move faster. "Eleanor Moore," the nurse murmured. "Yes, she's currently in emergency room number three. The doctor is with her now. You'll need to wait here." "Wait?" Arthur's voice cracked. "I can't wait. I need to see her." "You can see her when the doctor is finished," the nurse said sharply. "Take a seat." Arthur’s heart pounded violently. He just stood there, frozen in the middle of the waiting room, with those plastic chairs screwed to the floor all around him and a vending machine quietly humming off in the corner. When another nurse finally came out of the double doors, Arthur hurried over to her. "How is she? What happened?" The nurse held up a hand. "The doctor will speak with you shortly. At the moment, she's stable but her condition is critical. As for what happened, she called 911 herself. She said she was feeling faint. When the paramedics got there, they found her collapsed on the kitchen floor." Arthur's face fell. The image burned into his mind: his mother, already so fragile, alone on that cold kitchen floor. Reaching for a phone instead of calling out for him because he wasn't there. "Collapsed," Arthur whispered softly. "According to the paramedics, she'd been there for quite some time," the nurse said gently. "She was conscious but very weak." Arthur pressed his hands against his face, staring at the nurse in horror. While he was delivering a handbag to a girl who thought he was worthless, his mom was fighting for her life all by herself. He started pacing back and forth like a crazy person. He hadn't prayed since his dad passed away, but now his lips were moving quietly, and his hands were squeezed so tight his knuckles turned white. "Please, let her be alright," he whispered, fighting back tears. "Please. I'll do anything. Please don't let me lose my mom. She's all I have." Half an hour later, the double doors swung open. A tall man wearing a white coat stepped out with a clipboard in his hand. There was a grave look on his face, like he was about to drop some bad news. "Family of Eleanor Moore?" Arthur practically ran to him. "I'm her son. Arthur Moore. How's she doing? Is she okay?" The doctor, whose name tag said Dr. Harris, motioned toward two chairs by the wall. "Please. Sit down." Arthur didn't sit. "Just tell me, doctor. I'm dying to know how my mom is doing." Dr. Harris hesitated, then nodded. "Your mother is stable for now, but I won't lie to you. Her condition is serious. She's suffering from chronic kidney failure, compounded by severe exhaustion and malnutrition. Her body is shutting down, Arthur. Slowly, but surely." Arthur felt the floor shift under his feet. "She needs an operation," the doctor continued. "Specifically, she needs a kidney transplant and immediate post-operative care. But this hospital isn't equipped for that kind of procedure. We're a small facility. She needs to be transferred to St. Nicholas Medical Center. They have the specialists she needs." "St. Nicholas Medical Center," Arthur repeated. He knew that name. Everyone knew that name. This hospital was the best in the world, equipped with a full team of specialists. If his mother was treated there, she's sure to recover. Sadly, getting medical care there was super expensive. "How much will it cost?" Arthur inquired. Dr. Harris looked down at his clipboard. "The whole surgery, including the transplant and specialist charges, will cost around $550,000. That doesn't cover the pre-op care, the time in the hospital, or the meds after surgery. When you add it up, it's close to a million dollars." Arthur's mouth fell open. Then closed. No sound came out. "Arthur," the doctor said gently, "I know this is a lot to take in. But time is not on your side. Your mother's kidneys are functioning at less than fifteen percent. Without this surgery, she will die. Chances are it'll happen within a few months. Maybe even sooner if her heart can't take the strain." "I don't have that kind of money," Arthur finally choked out. "I don't... I can't..." He thought about his debt. He’s got $35 million hanging over his head like a guillotine blade. The bank had already bled him dry. They wouldn't lend him another dime. They had no reason to. He was already their property, essentially. "The bank," Arthur muttered under his breath. "They won't give me that much. I'm already buried in debt. They own my life and my labor. But this...they will not approve this surgery. Cross would never allow it." Dr. Harris's eyes softened with pity. "I'm sorry about that, Arthur. I truly am. Medicine can only do so much. What happens next is out of my hands." He put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Why don't you sit down? I'll get a nurse to bring you some water." "No," Arthur said, his voice sounding empty. Dr. Harris pulled his hand back. "Arthur—" "If she doesn't get the surgery," Arthur said slowly, as if saying the words would make them less real, "is she going to die?" Dr. Harris nodded with a heavy heart. "I'm afraid so." Arthur's legs folded under him. He fell to his knees on the cold hospital floor. The impact sent a jolt up his spine, but he didn't feel it. "No," he whispered, his forehead almost touching the floor. "No, no, no." Arthur remained on his knees in the middle of the hospital lobby. He was at his lowest point right now. He has no options; his mother is dying, and there is no one to help him. Suddenly, the silence was broken by the screeching sound of tires outside. Everyone in the lobby instinctively turned toward the entrance. In an instant, headlights from various vehicles poured through the glass doors of the hospital. A line of black luxury cars pulled up one after the other outside the emergency entrance. The hospital staff started whispering right away. “Oh my God…” "Who might that be?" “Is some politician here?” Arthur lifted his head slowly, too exhausted to bother. As the doors slid open, men dressed in black suits entered first, with an elderly man positioned in the center behind them. His silver hair was neatly combed back, and he carried himself like a king. The old man's sharp eyes scanned around and then locked onto Arthur. For a brief second, the old man stared at him. "Are you Arthur Moore?" He asked quietly. Arthur eyed him. "Yes, who are you?" The old man inhaled deeply. "I am William Lanchester, your grandfather."Latest Chapter
First encounter
The next morning, Arthur woke up to the smell of freshly cooked food. Soft sunlight streamed through the massive glass windows of the 100th floor, bathing the luxurious suite in gold. Arthur slowly opened his eyes and sat up on the enormous king-sized bed. For a brief second, he almost forgot where he was. Then he recalled what happened yesterday: The Imperial Tower, the hundredth floor, and the Golden Student. A knock came from the bedroom door. One of the butlers stepped inside respectfully. “Good morning, Master Arthur. Your breakfast is ready." Arthur nodded lazily before getting out of bed. A long table sat on the terrace overlooking the city, dressed with white linen, gleaming silverware, and fresh flowers in a crystal vase. The table was packed with food. Enough food for twenty people. Arthur sat down at the head of the table as his two butlers appeared at his sides—one pouring fresh orange juice into a crystal glass, the other arranging warm pastries on a gold-rimmed
The student council's meeting
At the very top of the academy’s administrative district stood a circular chamber reserved exclusively for the academy’s students council. This was not a place ordinary students could enter. Only the academy’s true rulers gathered here. In the middle of the room stood a big black round table, with an enormous chandelier above it that is shaped like a crown. Seated around the table were the most powerful students in Royal Elite Academy. They were all future CEOs, political heirs, and royal descendants. Every student seated in the chamber was a member of the White Class—the highest pinnacle of the Royal Elite Academy’s hierarchy. Seated at the head of the table was Roseline Zenith, President of the Council. Roseline was 20 years old, though her eyes seem a bit matured. Her black hair was neatly tied into a tight bun, and her White-Class uniform was spotless. She wore a black tie with gold lining and a platinum lapel pin that had the Zenith family crest, marking her as a member o
The Golden Student part 2
The room fell into an awkward silence. Even the wind drifting in from the terrace seemed quieter.Director Ross softly cleared his throat, pulling himself together."Of course, Master Arthur," he said carefully. "You may choose whichever uniform you wish to wear. The Golden Student holds that privilege."He hesitated, making sure to choose his words wisely. "However, if I may offer some professional advice, Master Arthur, I would strongly recommend at least the Red-Class uniform."Arthur's expression didn't change. He let him finish.Ross neatly folded his gloved hands in front of him. The Blue-Class students don't get treated as nicely as the others. They are ignored, mocked, and often looked down upon by nearly everyone."Jamie nodded feverishly.“He’s right!” Jamie quickly added. "Blue-Class students are treated like NPCs here. Some people practically use them as servants.”Ross gave a small nod of agreement. "The Red-Class offers a comfortable middle ground for you. You would stil
The Golden Student
An hour later, a firm knock fell on Jamie's door. Jamie walked over and pulled it open. The moment he opened it, his entire body stiffened. A tall, middle-aged man stood outside, dressed in a pristine black suit, silver gloves, and a platinum crest pinned to his chest. Behind him were four attendants in uniform. Jamie’s eyes widened instantly. This was the man who controlled access to every floor in the Imperial Tower. Even the White-Class students treated him with the utmost respect. He was Director Ross "Are you Arthur Moore?" Ross inquired. Before Jamie could stammer out a response, Arthur stepped forward from inside the room. "I'm Arthur Moore," he said calmly. Ross surveyed Arthur briefly and bowed with a slight nod. "Master Arthur," he addressed with respect. "It’s a great honor to meet you. My name is Ross Crowne. Imperial Tower Management Director" Jamie tensed up in surprise. He had no clue what was happening at the moment. "The academy has received confirmati
The Imperial Tower
The first thing Arthur noticed as soon as he stepped out of Jamie's car was that no Blue-Class students were seen anywhere near the building. Arthur asked, "So, only Red-class and White-class students can live here?" Jamie gave a quick nod. “Yes, master. Blue-class students are forbidden from entering inside without an invitation.” Arthur didn't say anything. He followed Jamie through the revolving door into a lavish lobby that stretched upward like a cathedral. The interior was straight out of a seven-star luxury hotel, with crystal chandeliers up above and bellhops all over the place. Arthur couldn't stop admiring the water features in the lobby and the private elevators gliding silently behind gold-trimmed glass. Jamie led Arthur to a private elevator. He pressed his thumb against a scanner, and the doors slid open silently. "Floor 1 to 30 mostly belongs to Red-Class," Jamie said as the elevator began to rise. "The higher the floor, the greater the student’s influence."
The hierarchy system
Jamie's knees dropped to the cobblestones, his phone clutched in both hands, staring at the screen as if he had just received a message from heaven. "I don't... I can't..." He looked up at Arthur with eyes that were shaking. "I don't believe it." "What did he send you?" a student demanded, pushing forward. "Jamie, how much?" another asked. Jamie held his phone tightly against his chest and shook his head. He honored his word and didn't share it with anyone. But his silence spoke louder than any number could. Arthur came over to where Jamie was kneeling on the cobblestone pavement. He stopped in front of him, staring down like someone who knew exactly how powerful he was. "Get up, my lapdog," Arthur said, gesturing toward the academy buildings. "And show me around. Right now." Jamie scrambled to his feet. Then, to everyone's shock, Jamie shamelessly lowered his head in a bow. "With pleasure," Jamie uttered, then raised his eyes. "Would you mind telling me your name?" Arthur
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