2025-12-31 18:14:41They are to report to River City General Hospital, V.I.P. Ward.
The disinfectant was very heavy in the atmosphere.
David Miller lay bedridden, right hand in heavy plaster cast, but sweat was drenching his little body with pain, yet on the feverish expectant eyes of the boy.
Next to him, Martha Miller peeled an apple with a small knife.
"And I just got a text," said Martha venomously from their company. "Don't worry, sweetie—the Black Tiger Gang has entered the Villa. Fifty men. Iron Tiger is personally leading them all."
He grinned and the grin took more the form of a grimace. "Good. Good! I want Ethan crippled. No, I want him dead! I want him head on a platter!"
"He will be." Babes soothed him. "Iron Tiger is a monster. No one survives him. By sunrise, Ethan will be history, and then we can take that slut Sarah and sell her to underground brothels to make for our lost stock value."
Bang!
The door of the V.I.P. room sprang open.
David and Martha craned their necks waiting for a doctor.
Instead, in came this giant, bloodied, hollow figure. It was Iron Tiger. His right arm was dangling about like a rag beside him, his face huge and swollen like a purple watermelon. And behind him limped two of his lieutenants looking as though they had just been run over by a truck.
"Mr Tiger!" David sat up, glancing round and wincing. "You're back! Did you do it? Is Ethan dead?"
Martha jumped mainly to her feet while clapping her hands. "Wonderful! I knew you could do it! I'll transfer the remaining payment right n—"
"Shut up," Iron Tiger growled.
Martha froze. "Excuse me?"
Iron Tiger limped forward. He looked terrifying-like a wounded bear. He didn't look at Martha. He looked straight at David.
You didn't tell me," Iron Tiger whispered and his voice trembled with suppressed rage. "You didn't tell me he was a monster."
"What?" David blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about? He's just a convict!"
"He destroyed fifty of my men in three minutes; he broke my arm with one punch. One punch!" Iron Tiger spat blood onto the pristine hospital floor.
David's face went pale. "Impossible... that's impossible..."
Iron Tiger walked to the side of the bed and lifted a metal IV drip stand, heavy and heavy, from the corner of the room.
"A message?" David looked at the metal pole, then at the look in Iron Tiger's eyes, more fear-cold, primal fear-gripped his heart. "Wait... Mr. Tiger... what are you doing?"
"He said..." Iron Tiger raised the metal pole high above his head. "'To give you a gift.'"
"No! No! Mom, stop him!" David shrieked, scrambling backward against the pillows.
"Security!" Martha screamed, lunging forward.
One of the lieutenants shoved Martha back onto the sofa.
"This is for the Dragon King!" Iron Tiger roared.
WHAM!
He swung the metal pole down with all his remaining strength.
CRACK!
It connected squarely with David's left leg-the healthy one.
"AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"
David's human scream rent through the hospital ward and sent patients across three floors awake.
"My leg! My leg!" David convulsed on the bed, foaming at the mouth.
Iron Tiger dropped the bent metal pole. He looked at the sobbing Martha.
"Tell your son," Iron Tiger panted, clutching his broken shoulder, "If he touches Sarah again... next time, it won't be a leg. It will be his head."
Iron Tiger turned and stomped out of the room. Behind him, he left a scene of sheer chaos.
Location: Sky Garden Villa, The Study.
While David screamed hell, I celebrated sipping Earl Grey tea in heaven.
The sun was rising over River City, gilding the skyline with a golden hue. I was seated in the master study of my villa, where the walls were lined with mahogany bookshelves.
Viper stood by the door, silent as a shadow.
I picked up the secure satellite phone placed on the table. It didn't work on local cellular networks. Instead, it was attached to a private server located deep in the Swiss Alps.
I punched in a number.
Ring. Ring.
"Director," said a respectful voice after breaking the silence. "We have been waiting for your call."
This was Magnus, known in the financial world as the God of Coin. He managed assets for the Dragon Temple—which are in excess of the GDP of most small countries. He was my Seventh Disciple.
Magnus, I said calmly, I want you to go shopping.
"Certainly, Master. Are we purchasing an island? A country?"
"Something smaller," I said, looking at the skyline. "The Miller Corporation in River City."
"The Miller Corp?" Now Magnus sounded puzzled. "Master, I'm looking at their financials right now. It's a rubbish company. Low liquidity, high debt, and plummeting stock. Not worthy of your attention."
"It has sentimental value." Coldly. "They offended me."
Instantly Magnus's tone changed. Sharply. Predatory. "I see. What is your plan? Hostile takeover? Asset freeze?"
"Complete annihilation," I ordered. "Fifty-one percent of the shares should be procured by lunchtime. I demand the ousting of the board of directors, as well as the cessation of any thought in the minds of the Miller family that they own the company any longer."
"Understood. Money shall be loosed. By the stroke of twelve, the Miller Corporation will be the sole property of the Dragon King."
"Good."
I disconnected.
I stood up and walked toward the window. Sarah was still asleep upstairs. Today was going to be a busy day.
"Viper."
"My Lord."
"Bring the car around. We're heading to the Miller Corporation Headquarters."
Viper blinked. "Sir? You want to go there personally? Why not just wait for the acquisition?"
I straightened my tie. A cruel smile flattered my lips.
"Because," I said. "The Board of Directors's meeting is today. David won't be there because he is in the hospital. But Martha will be there."
''I want to see her face when she knows she's fired."''
Location: Miller Corporation HQ, Boardroom.
The environment was toxic atmosphere.
Twelve directors surrounded the long oak table, screaming against one another. The stock graphs on the screen were all red lines plunging downward.
A director bellowed, "We lost 40% in one night! The Grand Sky deal is dead! We are dead!"
Quiet Martha Miller slammed her hand on the table. She looked wrecked; her eyes were puffy from crying, but she had forced herself to come here to save the company.
"We are not ruined!" Martha was lying through her teeth. "I have... I have connections! I am calling the bank right now to secure an emergency loan!"
"The bank won't pick up your calls, Martha!" another director yelled. "We need to sell! We need to liquidate before the stock hits zero!"
"We will not sell!" Martha screeched. "This company belongs to my family! My son David is the CEO! We will never sell!"
Bang!
The heavy double doors of the boardroom were kicked open.
The room fell silent. All gazes turned.
I walked in wearing a black bespoke suit, acquired this morning by Viper. It fit like a glove, highlighting my broad shoulders. Following me was Viper, carrying a briefcase.
"Who are you?" someone asked. "Security! How did you get in?"
Martha's eyes widened. She stood up, throwing her chair backward.
"Ethan?!"
It sent waves.
There was shock. "Ethan?" "The convict?" "The one who ruined the wedding?"
Martha's face turned purple. "You! You murderer! You crippled my son! You dare show your face here? I am calling the police right now!"
With that, she reached for her phone.
"Go ahead," I said, pulling out a chair at the head of the table, the Chairman's seat. I sat back comfortably, crossing my legs, "And call the police. But first, check your stock ticker."
"What?" Martha froze.
"Look at the screen," I pointed.
The directors turned to the screen.
The red line... it stopped falling. Suddenly, a massive green vertical line shot up.
"My God!" a director exclaimed. "Someone is buying! Someone is buying everything!"
"Who?" Martha screamed. "Who is buying our dump stock?"
"Look at the volume!" gasped the finance director. "10 million shares... 20 million shares... 30 million shares! It's a hostile takeover!"
Then the phone rigged in the middle of the table. It was the Stock Exchange Regulator.
Martha shakily put it on speaker. "H-Hello?"
"Mrs. Miller, The formal voice of the regulator sounded. The majority ownership of the Miller Corp has just transferred. An offshore entity called Dragon Capital has acquired 51% of the voting shares."
"Dragon Capital?" Martha whispered. She gazed at me.
I smiled.
"That would be me," I said.
The room erupted.
Martha screamed: "Impossible! You are a beggar! You have no money! How could you buy 51% of my company?"
I said, "Viper."
Viper stepped forward. He opened the briefcase, took out a single document, and slid it down the long table. It stopped perfectly in front of Martha.
That was the Transfer of Ownership Deed. Signed, sealed, and stamped.
I leaned forward, my eyes glowing with that terrifying golden light.
"You said this company belongs to your family?"
I tapped on the table.
"Get out of my chair. You're fired."
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The First Algorithm (Series Finale)
Deep Space, the absolute center . Time, the end of the journey.That slipspace tunnel didn’t exactly go out with some dramatic spatial ripper, you know. It didn’t throw them into a freezing void, nor did it dump them into a chaotic plasma storm.No, it just kinda faded. quietly, like somebody dimmed a lamp.On the bridge of the hijacked Praetorian dreadnought, the loud alarms started to shut themselves off, one after another, as if they were embarrassed to keep screaming. The heavy, thrumming vibration from the dark matter drives eased down into this deep, total stillness, like the ship had forgot how to move.Ethan pushed himself up, slow , from the pristine white deck. He used the command console for support because his knees felt… not right. Krax came up beside him, his massive dark matter broadsword resting across his shoulder, that yellow cybernetic eye widening in a way Ethan almost never saw, pure uncut awe.“Twig,” Krax said, low , like a prayer, “where are the stars ?”Ethan
The Hijack
Deep Space. The Sanctuary Cluster Perimeter. Time: 4 Months, 2 Days Post-Architect defeat.Out there, the vacuum just… did what it always does, no friction no sound no warning, like the universe was being polite. Ethan’s drop-pod cleared the three-kilometer span between the dying Archivist and the enormous Praetorian dreadnought, in a few seconds flat, too fast for anyone to even blink.Through that small, reinforced viewing slit, in the dark matter capsule, the pristine white porcelain hull of the enemy flagship kept swelling, until it basically ate his whole field of vision.“Brace for impact twig!” Krax’s voice cracked through the local comms, loud enough to make his teeth feel loose.CRASH.The drop-pod’s heavy modified nose slammed right into the dreadnought’s primary forward viewport. The kinetic velocity was basically violence on rails. It shattered the flawless Progenitor glass. Ethan’s pod punched straight through the bridge deflector screens and skidded hard across the g
The Broken Math
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The Supernova's Wake
Deep Space. The Sanctuary Cluster Perimeter. Time: 4 Months, 2 Days Post-Architect Defeat .Slipspace was supposed to be frictionless , a harmonic tunnel through the fabric of dimensions, you know, smooth and calm like nothing ever resists. But riding the absolute kinetic fury of a dying star? yeah, that “corridor” became a tearing washing machine of cosmic energy , violent, inconsistent, and way too eager to rip at the walls of reality.Ethan clung to the exterior dark matter hull of The Archivist. Under Jarek’s massive ironwood-and-steel chassis he flattened himself, like if he stayed small enough, the dimension shear might pass around him. His hybrid Titan frame had driven what was left of his biological roots deep into the ship’s armor plating, an odd, stubborn anchor, shielding him from that lethal dimensional tug.“Hold your breath, kid!” Jarek’s synthesized voice roared over the local comms, static violently chewing up the words into fragments. “We are dropping out of the s
The Heart of the Lotus
Deep Space. The Perseus Arm. The Cradle.Time: 4 Months, 1 Day Post-Architect Defeat.The central spire of the Cradle was, without exaggeration, a First Epoch engineering marvel. A towering needle of woven bio-steel and glowing crystal that literally speared the sky and kept reaching toward the suspended blue-white dwarf star.Now it was a slow, decaying staircase into hell.Ethan sprinted up the massive spiraling crystalline steps. His lungs burned, drawing in that thinning ozone-heavy air, like it had teeth. Without the limitless push-and-breathe stamina of his Dissonance Core, the moment had teeth too, he could feel the human cost stacking up past exhaustion.Above, the massive containment rings holding the dying star in stasis hummed with a low, unstable frequency, wrong somehow. Like the structure itself was trying to remember how to quit."Intruder detected. Entropy required," a chorus of grinding metallic voices hissed from the landing above, all at once, too close.Ethan skidd
The Rotting Stars
Deep Space. The Perseus Arm. The Cradle.Time: 4 Months, 1 Day Post-Architect Defeat.The sky above the crystalline city did not just break; it decayed.A massive, jagged fissure tore through the glowing bio-steel canopy of the Cradle’s petal .The protective atmospheric shielding flickered and then died, replaced by this awful pouring rain of purple light, like it wanted to seep into every thought."They’re through the roof!" Warlord Krax screamed, tracking the breach with his cybernetic eye, no pause, no breath.Hundreds of rusted, jagged shapes dropped from the gap . They were the Purge’s foot soldiers. In a vague, horrifying way they reminded you of the Praetorian drones used by the Harvesters, except there was no clean geometry here, no pristine order. Their chassis were asymmetrical and made from corroded dark metal that flaked away , then re-formed again and again in this constant state of entropic flux. They didn’t glide. They fell with jerky, wrong spasms, optical sensors bur
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