The Rejected Son-In-Law Is A Reincarnated God

006

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the penthouse lounge of Lee Global Ventures. Gold-accented marble floors reflected the amber light of the chandeliers, and the wide glass windows framed the Manhattan skyline like a painting.

Jason Carter stepped out slowly, adjusting the sleeves of his secondhand designer suit which he had stolen around the streets. It didn’t quite fit… too snug at the shoulders, a little frayed at the cuffs, but he held himself like a man wearing armor.

Don’t hesitate

Own the space.

They feed on weakness.

He murmured these words to himself whilst he moved towards the door.

Voices hushed the moment he stepped in. Half a dozen men in tailored suits and two women in smart blazers turned to look. They weren’t just investors, they were sharks. Venture capitalists, hedge fund managers, real estate magnates. All sipping aged scotch and talking tech with that smug, empty laughter of people who believed they couldn’t be touched.

A man with a silver beard leaned toward his neighbor and muttered loud enough to hear:

“Did someone invite the janitor to pitch?” This both gave Jason a disgusting look. The suit he stole was absolute trash.

A round of quiet snickering followed.

Jason walked past them and calmly set down his old leather folder on the sleek, black conference table.

They all stared at him very confused with the confidence with which he made a place for himself but yet no one was yet to ask him a question.

“You’ll want to hear this before you lose everything.”

The laughter died down.

Someone coughed. A woman in a blue pantsuit glanced at him with wary curiosity.

A younger man in tortoiseshell glasses leaned forward, scanning Jason’s face like trying to place him.

“Wait… aren’t you—”

“—Jason Carter,” Jason cut in, voice smooth. “Yeah. That one. The monster who was on trial, the reject, the cautionary tale.”

He smiled faintly. “Now let’s talk about the man who’s been stealing from all of you.”

The doors opened again. This time, all heads turned with practiced respect.

Brandon Lee, heir to the Lee fortune, strode in wearing a cobalt blue suit that cost more than Jason’s old car. His smile widened when he saw the room full.

Then he saw Jason.

His steps faltered for just a second. Not enough for most to notice, but Jason saw it. The twitch in the cheek. The narrowing of the eyes.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Brandon said quietly, walking to the table. “Security must’ve slipped.”

“Sit, Brandon.” Jason’s tone turned cold. “Let’s talk about wire transfers. And your fake crypto-backed derivatives.”

A few investors exchanged glances. Interest piqued.

Brandon forced a tight laugh. “Oh, you’ve been doing some reading? Cute. Everyone gets into conspiracy theories when they hit rock bottom.”

Jason opened his folder.

“I’ve got no theories. Just math. Numbers don’t lie.”

He pulled out a thin stack of printed documents and slid them across the table.

The tortoiseshell investor picked up the first page.

“Hold up. This is a transaction log from… Sable Holdings?”

“One of Brandon’s shell companies,” Jason said evenly. “Used to launder investment funds through offshore wallets disguised as token startups. Zero products, zero tech, all hype. Just buzzwords and exit scams.”

“That’s— That’s not even possible,” Brandon cut in. “I don’t have anything to do with Sable—”

Jason slapped another document on top.

“Incorporation papers. Signed under an alias tied to your college dorm registration. And here—” he flipped to another page, “emails from your executive assistant forwarding reports to a burner address linked to the Sable account.”

Brandon started heating up. Sweat over his body even while in an air conditioned room.“How did you get these?”

“Maybe next time don’t date someone who hates you more than I do.”

A slow, cold hush descended over the room.

One of the older men, Mr. Tsu, narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t your first attempt to spin something, Brandon. But this… this is serious.”

Brandon stepped back, shaking his head. “You people are really going to listen to him? This fucking asshole?! He’s a disgraced goddamn fraud! He was convicted—”

“Falsely convicted,” Jason said, locking eyes with him. “Because you and your family paid a judge to bury the exonerating data. I didn’t come here for sympathy. I came here for your empire.”

The woman in the pantsuit rose to her feet, examining the documents.

“This… matches what our team flagged last quarter. But we thought it was noise.” She shook her head and gave Brandon a shocking stare.

“It’s not noise,” Jason smirked “It’s a landslide. And you’re all standing under it.”

Brandon’s mask started to crack.

“Alright,” he said through clenched teeth. “Let’s say some paperwork’s off. I can fix that. We don’t need to blow this out of proportion.”

A man at the back hurled his glass at the wall. It shattered.

“You told me this fund was clean, Brandon! I poured four million into that token launch. You told us it was SEC-vetted!”

“You’re done,” another said. “You’re finished.”

Brandon turned to Jason, face flushed, voice trembling with fury.

“You think this is a win? I own this building. I own this room. You’re nothing. You’re a washed-up ghost walking on borrowed time.”

Jason didn’t flinch. Instead, he turned toward the far corner of the lounge.

Two men in catering uniforms nodded and removed their hats. Hidden beneath were tiny lapel mics and camera rigs. One gave a quick signal.

The livestream light turned green.

“Not anymore,” Jason said softly.

A dozen hidden lenses blinked to life.

Across the internet—Reddit, YouTube, Discord, underground news wires—a feed titled “The Carter Files: Lee Family Truth” lit up with views.

System Alert:

Trial 2 Complete. Upload verified.

Loading Trial 3: Infiltration of Influence…

Jason staggered slightly, unseen by the others.

His jaw tightened as a subtle heat crawled up his spine. In the reflection of the windowpane, something shimmered beneath his skin—golden circuit-like veins, glowing faintly around his neck and jawline, fading as fast as they appeared.

Not now. Stay in control.

“What… what is this?” Brandon barked, turning toward the cameras. “Turn those off!”

The system voice echoed again—cold, metallic, mechanical.

System Note: Influence access unlocked. Leverage identified: Financial reputation. Media control. Family legacy. Strategic insertion advised.

Jason looked out at the skyline, then back at the furious room.

“This was never about revenge,” he said quietly. “It’s about the truth. And now… the world’s finally watching.”