The Paralyzed Man's Revenge

The Presence of The Hound's Has Been Detected

“This isn’t the end, Father,” Arthur murmured, staring at the dimming screen inside his van, hidden behind the shadows of the trees.

A loud crash echoed from the direction of the mansion, followed by hysterical screams from within. Alistair McAlister, the cold corporate ruler, now looked like an old man lost in his own home.

Inside the cold boardroom, the morning atmosphere felt like a funeral. Alistair slammed a thick stack of documents onto the marble table, the impact rattling the water glasses in front of him.

“Julian, explain to me what all of this means!” Alistair shouted. His voice reverberated, forcing the directors seated around him to bow their heads deeply.

Julian McAlister, disheveled with dark circles under his eyes, could only stare blankly at the table. “It… it’s slander, Father. Arthur… he hacked everything.”

“Arthur is dead!” Alistair cut in, his eyes blazing with fury. “And our company’s reputation is on the verge of collapse because of your video scandal. Do you think investors care who did the hacking? They care about image!”

“I didn’t do it! I never tortured that dog!” Julian tried to defend himself, but his voice trembled.

Alistair rose from his chair and approached his son. In one swift motion, he struck Julian hard across the face. The sharp crack silenced the room instantly.

“You are a disgraceful heir,” Alistair hissed. “As of today, you are no longer part of McAlister Enterprises. Get out of this office before I call security to drag you out.”

Julian stood frozen, his breath coming fast. He looked at his father, searching for a trace of sympathy, but found only pure hatred. He rose, grabbed his jacket, and staggered out under the piercing gazes of the company’s executives.

In the days following his expulsion, Julian disappeared into a labyrinth of depression. He locked himself inside his penthouse, shutting himself away from sunlight. Drugs became his only companion.

Arthur, watching from afar through his system, knew the time had come. He contacted Duncan through an encrypted channel.

“How is the progress, Duncan?” Arthur asked. 

“Everything is proceeding according to plan, Young Master,” Duncan replied from the other end of the line. “We have replaced Julian’s drug supplier. The dosage he is receiving has been modified. It will drag him deeper than he ever imagined.”

Arthur nodded. “Make sure he has no way out.”

That night, inside his luxurious penthouse, Julian swallowed the last of the pills he had bought from his underworld contact. His world began to spin strangely. The room seemed to expand and contract at the same time.

“It hurts… my head hurts so much,” Julian whispered, reaching for water, but his hand knocked the glass over instead, shattering it.

He collapsed onto the floor, his breathing growing ragged. His heart pounded as if it were trying to burst out of his chest. He tried to stand, but his legs no longer obeyed him. They felt dead, as though they were no longer part of his body.

“Mother? Alistair?” he called hoarsely, but no one answered.

He crawled across the carpet, tears soaking his pale face. It felt as if he were watching himself from above, a man who once had everything, now destroyed by his own mistakes and the intervention of someone he had always underestimated.

The next morning, the medical team summoned by Alistair found Julian in a pitiful state. He lay helpless on the floor, still breathing, but his spinal nerves had been permanently damaged by an overdose that triggered fatal complications.

Alistair stood in the doorway of the room, staring at his now-paralyzed son. There were no tears in his eyes. Only an overwhelming sense of disgust.

“He’s useless now,” Alistair muttered to his assistant. “Just a drain of money for pointless treatment.”

Arthur, observing the scene through the hidden camera he had installed in Julian’s room, felt a cold satisfaction creep into his chest.

Paralysis for paralysis, he thought. This was the poetic justice he had been waiting for all these years.

“System,” Arthur called.

Yes, Master?

“How many Vengeance Points have been accumulated?”

Current points: 8,500. You have reached the threshold for the next major upgrade.

Arthur smiled faintly. He looked at his mother’s photograph stored in a secret folder. “Soon, Mother. It will all be over soon.”

Suddenly, the system screen flickered red. A new warning appeared.

Warning: The presence of ‘The Hounds’ has been detected around your hiding area. Alistair will not remain idle after this incident.

Arthur rose from his chair, his gaze now sharp and alert. He no longer felt pity. In his heart, only one thing remained, the desire to reduce everything to dust.

He checked his weapons, ensuring every detail of his plan was perfect. He knew Alistair was making his final move. An open war between a greedy father and a son who had become a devil in human form.

“Let them come,” Arthur whispered.

He stepped out of his van into the darkness of the night. The cold air bit at his skin, but he felt nothing. He had become the storm itself.

One step, then another, he walked toward the fate he had written with his own hands.