The Sovereign’s Retribution: Daily Login to Godhood

Chapter 09: The Scent of Desperation

The Sovereign Clinic didn't look like a medical facility. Located in a repurposed cathedral in the heart of the Upper East District, it was a monolith of black marble and tempered glass. There were no waiting rooms, only private lounges. There were no generic doctors, only Silas Vane and a hand-picked staff of loyalists led by Sarah Miller.

Outside, the street was lined with armored vehicles. Since the miracle at the gala, the elite of Veridian City were no longer looking for plastic surgeons; they were looking for a man who could touch the soul.

Silas sat in his office—the old altar of the cathedral—watching the dawn break through the stained glass.

[Ding! It is now 00:00. Day 6 Login is available.] [Would the Host like to Log In?]

Login, Silas thought.

[Ding! Login Successful!] [Day 6 Reward: 1x 'Sovereign’s Ledger' (Unique Artifact) & 1x 'Lie-Eater' Passive Perk.] [The Sovereign’s Ledger: Any contract signed in this book is absolute. Breaking it results in 'Soul-Dissolution'.] [Lie-Eater: Whenever someone lies to the Host, their Life-Thread turns a putrid green.]

"Perfect," Silas murmured.

A knock at the heavy oak doors interrupted his thoughts. Sarah entered, her face a mask of professional distaste. "Silas, someone is here. She’s been waiting since 4:00 AM. She claims she has 'vital information' about Julian Thorne’s next move."

"Let her in, Sarah," Silas said, leaning back. "I’ve been waiting for the first rat to leave the sinking ship."

The doors opened, and Elena Vance stepped in.

She wasn't the proud, silver-clad queen of the gala. She wore a simple black trench coat, her hair slightly disheveled, her eyes rimmed with red. She looked fragile, a classic "damsel in distress" act that had worked on Silas for three years.

"Silas..." she whispered, her voice trembling. She didn't sit. She walked toward his desk, her hands reaching out as if to touch him, then pulling back in feigned shame. "I didn't know where else to go. Julian... he’s insane. Since the gala, he’s been talking to shadows. He hit me, Silas."

She pulled back her sleeve to reveal a faint bruise on her wrist.

[Lie-Eater Passive Activated]

Observation: Elena Vance’s Life-Thread has turned a vivid, putrid green. Truth: She applied the bruise herself using makeup. She is wearing a hidden wire provided by Julian’s security team.

Silas didn't move. He didn't offer her comfort. He simply watched her.

"I made a mistake," Elena sobbed, dropping to her knees by his chair. "I was scared! Julian threatened my family. He told me if I didn't help him frame you, he’d destroy my father’s business. I never stopped loving you, Silas. Every night I was with him, I was thinking of you."

[Mind-Read Activated]

Elena’s Surface Thoughts: Come on, you idiot. You always were a sucker for my tears. Just one hug, one moment of weakness, and Julian’s team will have the 'confession' they need to bury your reputation. Then I can take half of that offshore account as a 'settlement'.

Silas reached down, his fingers gently brushing the "bruise" on her wrist. Elena leaned into his touch, a triumphant spark hidden deep in her eyes.

"It looks painful, Elena," Silas said softly.

"It is," she whimpered. "Please, Silas. Take me back. I’ll tell the police everything. I’ll help you take him down from the inside."

Silas’s grip suddenly tightened. He didn't snap her wrist, but the [Sovereign’s Presence] flared, pinning her to the floor. "You always were a terrible actress, Elena. You used to say my architecture was 'too rigid'. But your lies? They’re just... messy."

He grabbed a damp cloth from the desk and wiped her wrist. The "bruise" disappeared instantly.

Elena froze. The putrid green of her Life-Thread became almost blinding.

"The wire in your necklace is a bit outdated, too," Silas continued, his voice devoid of emotion. "Tell Julian that if he wants to play, he shouldn't send a used-up pawn."

"Silas, wait—"

"Sarah!" Silas barked.

Sarah appeared, two massive security guards behind her. "Yes, Mr. Vane?"

"Throw this trash out," Silas said, turning his chair back to the window. "And call the City Sanitation Department. Tell them there’s a foul smell lingering in my office."

Elena’s face contorted. The mask of the grieving lover shattered, revealing the venomous socialite beneath. "You think you’ve won?! Julian is part of something you can't even imagine! You're just a man with a bank account! They are the ones who write the laws of reality!"

"I don't write laws, Elena," Silas said without looking back. "I rewrite the world. Guards, out."

As Elena was dragged out, screaming curses that would make a sailor blush, a new notification appeared on Silas’s screen.

[Ding! Small Twist Triggered!] [Elena Vance was carrying a 'Soul-Anchor' charm. By touching her, the 'Blind Eye' has successfully marked your clinic as a 'Cursed Zone'.] [Event Initiated: The First Siege of the Sovereign Clinic.]

Silas stood up, pulling the Soul-Reaper’s Dagger from his inventory. The cathedral’s stained glass began to rattle as a dark, oily fog started to seep through the cracks in the floor.

"Sarah, lock the doors," Silas said, his eyes glowing with a ferocious blue light. "Isabella, Sloane—tell them to stay in the inner sanctum. We have guests."

He looked at the shadow forming in the center of the room—a creature made of twisted limbs and weeping eyes.

"Julian Thorne sent a girl to do a demon's job," Silas sneered. "Let’s show them why you don't mess with an Architect."