The Ultimate Sponsor System

Earth.

The Lion-Sun Nation.

Year 101 Post-Apocalyptic.

On the 101st floor of the Obsidian Tower, the quiet and majestic workspace was illuminated only by the soft glow of antique crystal lamps and the distant twinkling lights of the city far below.

A middle-aged man with a full head of thick gray hair, a sturdy build, and dressed in a formal black uniform bowed respectfully in front of a large desk of polished black wood. 

The desk was covered with stacks of confidential documents, a dimly lit holographic projection screen, and strategic notes labeled Galaxy-X.

“My lord, the Old Seer requests a private audience. He states that this matter is directly related to your future,” he said with deference.

Behind the desk, Sebastian sat leaning back in a black leather executive chair. 

The man had a sharp, handsome mature face, nearly perfect pale skin, and a pair of brown eyes that seemed capable of piercing anyone’s soul. 

His black hair was cut neat and short, his beard was slightly thick, while his mustache was so thin it gave the impression of a successful adult’s appearance. 

The tailored black suit he wore, a clean white shirt, and a perfect black silk tie completed the aura of power he radiated.

Although his appearance still looked like a man in his late twenties, his actual age was almost forty; this year, he was already 39 years old. 

Sebastian was only his given name. He did have a family name, but he despised using it beside his real name. 

He was the founder and leader of Galaxy-X, the multinational company that controlled all remaining satellite infrastructure on Earth. 

In this post-apocalyptic world, his name was nearly synonymous with power over the sky itself.

Sebastian looked at his aide without much expression, his fingers still touching the edge of the holographic screen. After a brief pause, he spoke in a low, clear, and authoritative voice, “Arrange the car now.”

“Understood.”

With just one word from Sebas, the head butler named Cassian—often called Cass—bowed slightly with elegance.

Ten minutes later. 

Cass opened the car door in front of the company building, and Sebas entered the back seat with a calm expression. 

Sebas entered as the passenger. 

“Cass, how is Sofie’s situation now? What is she doing?” Sebas asked with crossed legs and a calm expression.

“Please wait a moment, sir. I will contact the bodyguards protecting Miss Sofie,” Cass pressed his ear, and the earpiece he always wore blinked slightly.

A short while later, Cass reported, “Sir, Miss Sofie is still at the Academy and is currently attending a meditation class.”

“Good. Make sure nothing happens to her,” Sebas said calmly.

“My lord, anyone who dares to target Miss Sofie will meet a tragic death. You need not worry,” Cass said, his tone serious.

Yet Sebas did not smile. He spoke calmly, but beneath his tone there was a kind of endless sorrow behind his expressionless face. “I’m glad to hear your assurance, Cass. You know I only have my brain, unlike you. You are a Hero, while I am only an ordinary human. I wonder why someone as strong as you wants to stay by my side.”

Cass fell silent for a moment, then said softly, “Please don’t say that, Master. When you were still young, I clearly remember you saved me and my family from the coldness of the world. A kindness like that… I could never repay it, even if I died.”

Sebas listened to Cass’s words in silence. His eyes glanced out the car window at the sight of pedestrians, motorcycles, cars, and people.

It had been 100 years since the apocalyptic era ended. Earth had undergone drastic changes in both form and order.

The people of Earth only had three identities: Hero, Villain, and Abyss.

The power rankings in this world were divided from F, the weakest, to SSS+, the strongest. 

Individual talents were also ranked the same way, from F to SSS+.

This division naturally created discrimination, but in the post-apocalyptic world, power was everything.

Sebastian himself only had a Rank D talent: Cold Mind. 

In other words, he had only awakened a talent related to intelligence, not strength.

With that intelligence, starting from inheriting the family company, he had managed to grow into the founder of an international-level company in just nine years.

“About the future, huh… I’m almost reaching my forties. Do I still need to think about the future?” Sebas mused with a calm expression on his face.

About half an hour later. 

The car driven by Cass stopped in front of the largest hospital in the city. 

Cass got out and opened the door for Sebas. 

Sebas stepped out of the car, and suddenly his phone rang. 

The man took his phone from his trouser pocket, glanced at who was calling, and answered it.

“Sebas! I’m short on money, transfer me 100 thousand dollars right now!” a irritated and angry female voice came from the phone.

“Sofie, that’s not how you ask for money. Address me with respect—call me uncle,” Sebas said, his tone cold.

“Hmph! As if you care about respect, Sebas! I don’t care—transfer me 100 thousand dollars now, or I’ll go on a hunger strike!” the girl named Sofie huffed stubbornly on the other end of the line.

“First tell me what you want to buy with that much money,” Sebas said calmly.

“Why are you so nosy? I’m not telling you. Just transfer the money now, bye!”

“Sofie—” 

“Beep!”

The call was cut off.

Sebas stared at his phone with a speechless expression.

“Master, may I offer you some advice?” Cass said hesitantly while looking at Sebas seriously.

“Just say it. No need to hold back with me, Cass,” Sebas said, lifting his face.

“For the past few years, you’ve been too busy with work and have neglected Miss Sofie. Master, Miss Sofie is still young. I’m sure she needs attention from you,” Cass said while letting out a slight sigh, his eyes half-closed.

Sebas looked at the large hospital building in front of him. He was silent for a moment before finally speaking, “She’s already 21 years old. She’s an adult, no longer a young girl. I thought too much attention would only make her uncomfortable.”

Cass opened his mouth slightly, but did not end up speaking.

“Let’s go in,” Sebas stepped forward, walking into the hospital with a cold expression.

…… 

As the founder of a major company in the Post-Apocalyptic Era, Sebas’s identity was highly confidential even though he had no combat ability. 

So even though Sebas entered a public facility, not many people recognized him except those considered important figures.

By elevator, Sebas went up to the floor where VIP patients were treated. Before long, they arrived at a cold, fragrant-smelling room, and a nurse guided Sebas and Cass to a rather expensive patient room.

When the door to the room opened, Sebas stepped inside followed by Cass.

On the bed lay a thin, emaciated old man with no hair. His face looked almost skeletal, the wrinkled skin tightly stretched over the bones of his face.

“My subordinate said you wanted to meet me?” Sebas stood one meter from the bed and spoke with a cold face.

The thin old man known as the Seer smiled with his wrinkled face. “Lord Sebas, this old man’s life won’t last much longer. Truly, I am very grateful for the care you have given me over the years. If not for your kindness, five years ago I might already have died and been left as nothing but bones in a gutter.”

Sebas showed no reaction to the seer’s praise and gratitude. Instead he said, “I’m not as good as you think. I’ve often ordered people to kill.”

The seer coughed, his voice quite hoarse as he spoke, “Even if you order your subordinates to do dirty work, your hands are still clean right now, aren’t they?”

Sebas fell silent and did not reply.

The seer spoke again, very weakly, “Support someone—whether man or woman—as long as they accept you as a benefactor, your fate will—Uhuk!”