War God: Revenge of Trash Ex-Son-in-Law

CHAPTER 7

The night rain on the outskirts of Queens slowly subsided into a cold drizzle. Natalie Sterling still stood frozen near the damp brick wall, staring at the two burly men now groaning in pain on the wet asphalt. Her beautiful eyes shifted toward the young man standing before her. Raymond stood calmly beneath the dim streetlights, slightly adjusting the collar of his damp flannel shirt as though the brutal fight earlier had merely been a minor inconvenience.

Natalie’s breathing still carried traces of panic, causing the chest beneath her cream-colored wool coat to rise and fall rapidly. She stepped forward carefully, ignoring the broken heel of her shoe.

“W-wait,” Natalie called out, her voice trembling slightly from the cold and shock. “Thank you for helping me. If you hadn’t been here, I don’t know what would have happened to my soul tonight.”

Raymond slowly turned around, looking at the woman before him with a flat and empty gaze. “It’s nothing. I just happened to pass by.”

Natalie hurriedly opened her handbag. As the CEO of Sterling Group, her first instinct whenever she received help from a stranger on the streets was to settle it transactionally. She pulled out several one-hundred-dollar bills from her leather wallet—a total of one thousand dollars—then held them out toward Raymond.

“This... I know this isn’t comparable to my life, but please take it as a token of my gratitude,” Natalie said, looking at Raymond’s ordinary appearance. In her eyes, this young man was merely a working-class civilian who happened to possess extraordinary fighting skills. “Use this money to treat your hand or buy some dry clothes.”

Raymond glanced at the stack of cash in Natalie’s hand before looking at the beautiful woman with a faint smile filled with irony. A God of War who controlled the largest mercenary logistics network was now being handed a thousand-dollar tip on the side of the road.

Without touching the money at all, Raymond turned around and walked away through the night drizzle. “Keep your money, Miss. I don’t need payment for something like this.”

“Hey! Wait! What’s your name?!” Natalie shouted, stepping forward to chase after him, but Raymond walked so quickly that he disappeared into the darkness of the deserted alley at the end of the street.

Natalie lowered the hand holding the money, staring at the empty alleyway with mixed emotions. A sense of curiosity she had never felt before suddenly crept into her mind. In a city as cruel as New York, there was actually a man who could casually refuse a thousand dollars after risking his life to beat up three thugs.

Who exactly is that man? Natalie wondered inwardly as she put the money back into her bag.

She immediately took out her phone and pressed the speed dial for her personal assistant. “Elena, pick me up now near the Long Island City commercial intersection. Lane two. And make sure the cyber team erases all CCTV recordings in this area within ten minutes.”

An hour later, a luxurious black Lincoln Navigator sped through towering iron gates into the courtyard of a magnificent mansion in the elite Upper East Side district of Manhattan. This was the main residence of the Sterling family.

Natalie stepped into the mansion’s grand hall with a slight limp, yet she still maintained her upright and elegant posture. The moment she pushed open the heavy oak double doors leading to the family room, the warm atmosphere she expected was nowhere to be found. Instead, the room was filled with suffocating tension.

Sitting in a teakwood wheelchair covered in velvet was an old man with white hair and an extremely stern face. He was Richard Sterling, Natalie’s grandfather and the founder of Sterling Group. To his left and right stood Natalie’s uncle, Thomas Sterling, along with his daughter, Tiffany Sterling, who wore a bright red mini evening dress with heavy makeup on her face.

“Wonderful. Our respected CEO of Sterling Group finally returns home at ten at night looking like a homeless woman,” Tiffany mocked, crossing her arms over her chest while displaying a triumphant smile. “Were you busy handling projects, or wandering around Manhattan’s underground streets, Natalie?”

Thomas added in a voice dripping with fake concern. “Father, just look at Natalie. How can we entrust the controlling shares of Sterling Group to a woman who can’t even maintain her own appearance outside the house?”

Richard Sterling ignored the words of his son and granddaughter. His sharp old eyes immediately pierced toward Natalie. He slammed the armrest of his wheelchair hard. Bang!

“Enough! Natalie, I don’t want to hear any excuses tonight,” Richard’s voice echoed through the room. “My health condition is worsening. According to the amendment to the family will, if you wish to retain your position as CEO and inherit the controlling shares, you must get married within one month!”

Natalie clenched her fists inside the pockets of her cream coat, her nails digging into her palms until they turned pale. “Grandfather, this is ridiculous! I’ve already led this company to a forty percent profit increase this year! Why should my executive position be determined by some ridiculous marriage?!”

“This is an absolute rule of the Sterling family, Natalie!” Richard cut off his granddaughter mercilessly. “A woman without a husband in New York’s business world will only become easy prey for other corporate predators. I need assurance that there is a man standing beside you, or the management rights to these shares will be fully transferred to your uncle, Thomas, tomorrow morning!”

Tiffany, standing behind Richard’s wheelchair, could barely contain her delighted laughter. As the cousin who had always envied Natalie, this spectacle was the greatest moment of her life. She knew perfectly well that Natalie was a cold workaholic woman who did not believe in love at all. Forcing Natalie to find a husband within such a short time was no different from pushing her off the cliff of her own throne.

Natalie took a deep breath, staring at her uncle and cousin, who were smiling victoriously. Her cold logical mind immediately began turning rapidly. They want me to marry so they can interfere? Fine. I’ll find a husband, but not a rich man they can manipulate.

Meanwhile, in an old rental district on the outskirts of Queens, Raymond stepped into a modest medium-sized room. Inside, there was only a wooden bed with a thin mattress, a small wooden table, and a bathroom in the corner.

Raymond placed his old backpack on the floor before dropping his body onto the creaking bed. He stared at the ceiling, where the paint was beginning to peel. According to both the system’s instructions and his own wishes, in this place he would not use the title of God of War, there would be no golden-armored servants, and no luxury. He wanted to live as an ordinary civilian named Raymond Smith while restoring his energy and carrying out his revenge beautifully.

Bzzzt... bzzzt...

The encrypted phone inside his pocket vibrated. Raymond answered it and placed the black device against his ear. “Yes, Yudha.”

“Raymond,” Yudha’s voice sounded from the other end of the line, filled with mature intelligence reports. “The analysts from Altar Logistics have just detected panic movements from Miller Group headquarters. Chloe Miller has just contacted three investment banks in Manhattan requesting debt tenor extensions after we legally detained two of their primary textile raw material containers at the Boston port under quarantine regulations.”

Raymond shifted into a seated position on the edge of the bed, a faint smile filled with hidden cruelty appearing on his face. “How did the banks respond?”

“As per your orders, I already used our secret influence on Wall Street to make those banks reject their requests subtly,” Yudha replied, the sound of keyboard typing audible through the phone. “Chloe is now preparing to visit Julian Vance’s residence tonight to accelerate the merger signing and secure fresh funding. Do you want me to detonate our financial bomb immediately and cancel the Brooklyn port project now?”

Raymond tapped his index finger rhythmically against the small wooden table beside the bed, creating a steady rhythm inside the quiet room.

“Not yet, Yudha,” Raymond said, his voice calm yet carrying deadly pressure. “If a bomb explodes immediately without warning, the performance becomes less entertaining. Let them struggle to climb a little higher with the help of Vance Corporation. Let Chloe believe she has found the savior of her life.”

Raymond paused, his eyes glowing with a dense golden light in the darkness of the night. “I want to see the smiles of happiness on Chloe and her mother’s faces tomorrow when their partnership announcement is released, before I pull the entire foundation of their business out from beneath the ground in a single night. That is what true beautiful collapse looks like.”

Yudha chuckled quietly on the other end of the call, taking his own satisfaction from the psychological warfare tactics used by his superior. “Understood, Raymond. I’ll let Miller Group celebrate their ‘false victory’ tomorrow morning. Enjoy your rest in Queens.”

Raymond ended the call and placed his phone on the table. He lay back down once again, staring at the golden system text slowly rotating across the ceiling of his rented room, preparing to welcome a new chapter in New York’s political chess game.