The Sovereign’s Retribution: Daily Login to Godhood

Chapter 07: The Ghost at the Gala

The Grand Valerius Ballroom was a cathedral of excess. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen explosions from the gold-leaf ceiling, casting a shimmering light over the cream of Veridian City’s society. Men in four-thousand-dollar suits and women draped in rare gems sipped champagne that cost more than a nurse’s monthly salary.

At the center of the room stood Julian Thorne. He was the picture of a modern prince—composed, handsome, and utterly lethal. Beside him, Elena Vance leaned into his shoulder, her hand resting on his arm. She wore a dress of silver silk that clung to her curves, her eyes scanning the room with the practiced boredom of someone who had successfully traded her soul for a seat at the top.

"To the future of the Sterling-Thorne merger," Julian announced, raising his glass. The crowd erupted in applause. "A future built on innovation, strength, and the removal of... outdated elements."

Elena smiled, a slight shiver of delight running through her. She knew exactly what "outdated elements" meant. Silas Vane was a memory, buried under a mountain of debt and broken bones.

Suddenly, the massive oak doors at the end of the hall swung open.

The music didn't stop, but the conversation did. It died out in a wave, starting from the back and rushing toward the stage.

A man walked in. He didn't just enter; he commanded the space. He wore a bespoke suit of charcoal wool so dark it seemed to absorb the light. His presence was suffocating—the [Sovereign’s Presence] was dialed to a subtle, terrifying frequency. On his arm was a woman who looked like she had stepped out of a high-fashion editorial. Sarah Miller, formerly the overworked nurse of St. Jude’s, now carried herself with the sharp, cold grace of a queen-in-waiting.

Julian’s glass paused halfway to his lips. Elena’s face went from smug satisfaction to a mask of pure, unadulterated horror.

"It can't be," she whispered, her voice cracking. "He was... he was dying."

Silas Vane walked through the crowd. People stepped back instinctively, cleared a path as if for a predator. He reached the foot of the stage and looked up at Julian.

[Mind-Read Activated]

Julian Thorne’s Surface Thoughts: How? The truck... the Cleaner... I saw the reports! This man should be a pile of ash. Is this a twin? No, those eyes... those are the eyes of a man who has crawled out of hell. Elena Vance’s Surface Thoughts: God, he looks better than Julian. The suit, the watch... where did he get the money? If he’s back, he’ll tell everyone about the blueprints. I need to ruin him again. I have to.

"Julian. Elena," Silas said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried to every corner of the silent ballroom. "You look surprised. Did you think a few broken bones and a little frame-up would keep me down?"

"Silas?" Julian recovered quickly, his face hardening into a smirk. He stepped down from the stage, trying to reassert his dominance. "I must say, modern medicine is a miracle. But you’re trespassing. This is a private event for the city’s elite. Security!"

Two guards—Tier 0 "Enforcers" with thickened necks and dull eyes—stepped forward.

"Mr. Thorne," Silas said, pulling the gold-embossed invitation from his pocket. He flicked it; it flew through the air like a blade, landing perfectly in Julian’s hand. "Victor Vance was kind enough to give me his seat. It seems he had a... sudden change of heart regarding his loyalty."

Elena stepped forward, her face twisted in a sneer. "You stole that! You’re a thief and a fraud, Silas! You think wearing a nice suit changes the fact that you’re a penniless architect with a criminal record? Guards, throw this trash out!"

The guards reached for Silas.

[Active Skill: The Eye of Discernment Activated]

Target: Guard A. Weakness: Left knee (old sports injury). Target: Guard B. Weakness: Solar plexus (exposed during lunge).

Silas didn't even spill his drink. As the first guard grabbed his shoulder, Silas moved. It was a blur—the [Ghost-Step] made him appear as a flickering shadow. Crack. Thud.

In two seconds, both guards were on the floor. One was clutching a shattered kneecap, the other was gasping for air, his lungs paralyzed by a precision strike.

The ballroom gasped. This wasn't the Silas Vane they remembered. The Silas they knew was a quiet, bookish man who worked late and never raised his voice. This man was a monster.

"Sarah," Silas said, looking at his COO.

Sarah stepped forward, holding a sleek black tablet. She tapped a button. Behind Julian, the massive digital screen that had been showing the Sterling-Thorne logo flickered.

It changed to a series of bank statements. Specifically, Victor Vance’s secret accounts and the transfer logs showing Julian Thorne’s signature on the "Blackwood Data Center" maintenance contracts—the ones Julian used to hide his structural failures.

"As of five minutes ago," Sarah said, her voice clear and cold, "Vane Holdings has initiated a hostile short-sell of SVX stock. We’ve also leaked these documents to the Federal Securities Commission. Your 'merger' just lost four hundred million dollars in valuation, Mr. Thorne."

The room erupted into chaos. Phones began buzzing in the pockets of every investor present.

Julian looked at the screen, then at Silas. His poise was gone. His face was a mask of primal fury. "You think you can bankrupt me with some papers? I own the judges! I own the police!"

Silas stepped closer, his blue eyes flashing. The air around them began to hum with the low-frequency vibration of Aether. "I don't care about your judges, Julian. I’m not here to sue you."

He leaned in, whispering so only Julian and the trembling Elena could hear.

"I’m here to take everything you love, piece by piece. And when you’re standing in the gutter, broken and forgotten, I’ll let you die. But not a second before."

[Ding! Small Twist Detected!] [Elena Vance's 'Affection' is shifting to 'Intense Fear', but a hidden stat has triggered: 'Greed-Driven Obsession'. She is already planning to 'betray' Julian to crawl back to you.]

[System Notice: Day 5 Login is approaching. The 'Major Change' of the next tier is imminent.]

Silas turned his back on them—the ultimate insult—and walked toward the bar. Sarah followed, her eyes glowing with a quiet, fierce pride. She was no longer just a nurse; she was the right hand of a rising god.

"A martini," Silas said to the stunned bartender. "Dry. And make sure the ice is as cold as my ex-fiancée’s heart."