The Ancestral heir Ethan's revenge

A cab pulls up to the grand entrance of the Sunset Tower Hotel, its sleek exterior gleaming under the golden rays of the afternoon sun. The hotel's majestic billboard, adorned with the iconic Sunset Tower Hotel logo, proudly stands guard over the entrance.**

"Sir, we've arrived at the Sunset Tower Hotel!" A soft, calming voice filled the air, courtesy of Ethan Sinclair, the taxi driver.

His words gently broke the steadiness that enveloped the luxury establishment.

"Thank you," the stranger replied, a hint of relief in his voice. "Could you please help me with my luggage out of the trunk?"

"Of course," Ethan responded promptly, exiting his cab and assisting the stranger in retrieving his belongings.

As he closed the trunk, the stranger inquired, "How much do I owe you?"

"Two hundred bucks!!" Ethan replied, referring to his standard fare.

"Here, I'll give you five hundred bucks for the extra effort I put in for you today!!" the stranger said, reaching for his wallet. However, upon examining its contents, he realized he had insufficient cash and only had his credit card.

"Would you mind if I used my card at the reception desk to get you some change?" the stranger asked apologetically.

"No problem, I'll wait for you in the cab," Ethan replied, settling back into his driver's seat.

He used that moment to glance at his wristwatch, and he noticed it was 5 minutes past.

His mind raced with concern as he remembered that his workday was almost over, and he needed to leave for his mother-in-law's birthday preparations this evening before tomorrow's celebration.

Ethan took a deep breath, gazing at himself in the rearview mirror.

His fingers danced along his lingering mustache, contemplating its fate.

"I should get rid of this beard," he muttered.

Lost in self-reflection, his attention was abruptly drawn to a black-covered phone left behind the passenger seat.

He was taken aback, not anticipating the stranger's forgetfulness in this situation.

Ethan's mind raced with frustration, thinking to himself, "Not again! Where could he possibly be? I've been waiting for so long!" Glancing at his wristwatch once more, it read 6:30 p.m.

A wave of disappointment washed over him as he realized that the stranger had kept him waiting.

This made him worried because he knew his grandmother-in-law would discipline him for being late.

Ethan frequently found himself on the receiving end of her harsh words, labeled as a worthless son-in-law, a designation that deeply hurt him.

As Ethan stepped out of the taxi, his determination remained steadfast in his mission to return the phone and receive the payment he rightfully deserved.

As he entered the lobby, his eyes fell upon a receptionist, a young woman with short black hair, neatly arranging her tops and blouses behind the counter.

He approached her with a polite demeanor. Ethan explained, "Excuse me, I just dropped off a passenger of mine, who mentioned he wanted to use his credit card to settle my fare. However, he left his phone in my cab, so I've got to return it."

The receptionist, her voice tinged with concern, inquired, "Yes, he's been waiting for you in his room, sir." she nodded her head slightly before her hand reached for her Motorola.

"Hello, sir, he's here," the receptionist's voice conveyed a professional tone.

At the other end of the call, the man responded, "Allow him to my doorstep!"

The receptionist dropped the Motorola and turned to Ethan.

"He said you should come to his room," she said, her voice trailing off slightly. After a momentary pause, she added, "Is room 093?"

Ethan replied with a sincere smile. "Thank you!" he exclaimed, his gratitude visible.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Ethan proceeded towards the guest room, his footsteps resonating in the grand lobby.

The anticipation of finally obtaining his payment and returning the phone propelled him forward, adding a spring to his stride.

Ethan, who was dressed in his typical taxi driver's uniform, approached the door of the guest room and knocked politely.

"Come in!" a voice echoed from inside.

As Ethan's hand made its way toward the doorknob, the door swung open, exposing a scene that shook him to his core.

In the room, Maya Reynolds, Ethan's wife, is sleeping with a stranger on the same mattress, engaging in a prolonged romance.

"Just drop the phone and get out of here?" the stranger said, not making eye contact with Ethan.

Ethan's tear-filled gaze remained fixed on the scene before him as he exclaimed, "What about my payment?"

"Wait for me outside the corridor!" the stranger said.

Ethan's mind reeled as he struggled to process the unexpected sight before him. He had been preoccupied with returning the phone and receiving his payment, unable to move away from his spot.

He never knew that he could come across his wife face-to-face in these circumstances because she had mentioned going to her mother's house for birthday preparations.

How was it possible that he encountered her here? Was this a setup? For him to encounter her? Because a five-star hotel like this will not allow a stranger into their guest room, not even a taxi driver like him!?!

The realization hit him with a wave of shock and confusion. His grip on the phone loosened, and it slipped from his hand, falling to the ground. The sound of it hitting the floor grabbed their attention.

Clang!

Maya's reaction was immediate and filled with shock.

She exclaimed, "Jesus!!! What the hell is that?!" in disbelief.

She never expected what she saw in front of her.

During that period, the stranger's gaze scanned Ethan's body for the source of that sound.

Upon noticing his phone, valued at 380 million dollars, lying on the ground, it was evident that someone with limited financial means would not be able to afford such a costly device without resorting to taking out a loan. In a kind gesture, the stranger picked up a robe that was lying near the mattress.

"How dare you drop my phone on the ground? Do you even know how much it costs? You, a poor taxi driver like you, probably can't even afford one with your salary!" the stranger spat out, berating Ethan as he slammed his back against the door.

Thud!?! Thud!?!

A knock echoed through the air as the stranger released his grip on Ethan's clothes.

The stranger's hand extended toward the doorknob, revealing a woman in her late forties.

"Can you people lower your voice!?!" the lady exclaimed.

"Because it's disturbing us in our apartment!" she added.

"Thank you for your opinion, but I paid for this apartment. Someone from the next guest room can't come here and tell me what to do!" the stranger exclaimed, slamming the door behind her.

"You guys need to stop. Stop this harassment!?!" Maya exclaimed at the top of her voice.

"Ethan. You need to apologize!?!"

"Apologized!?!" Ethan said, his face twisting with a hit of disbelief.

"Yes! You need to apologize to him now. I will explain everything to you when we get home, we are just here for a business deal, this man is not someone you could offend!" Maya said, her voice carrying a hint of frustration.

"Who's this guy!?!" the stranger interrupted.

"He's my husband, we've been married for three years, and he was the man I used to talk about!?!" Maya said.

"Oh, is this the loser you usually talked about? Maya, you never mentioned to me that your husband is a taxi driver!" The stranger said with derision.

"Should have let me know, so that I can promote him to the highest level in the prime taxis organization." The stranger said with a mocking tone.

"I don't fucking need your promotion!?! And I don't care who you are!" Ethan said, turning away from the stranger's face.

"So, Maya, you've been going all around behind my back, cheating on me all this while. I work 55 hours a week, doing everything I can to please you. And I thought I'd met the woman of my dreams! Not even knowing that you are a miserable bitch, someone not to be trusted," he paused.

Maya's voice interrupted.

"I wasn't the way you thought. We're just having a business conversation."

Ethan's laughter echoed in the room, a mix of bitterness and hurt.

"Oh, a business conversation! In a hotel room, huh? And he was naked!" Ethan pointed accusingly at the stranger standing beside her.

"While you're here just putting on your robe, how does this look like a business conversation? I'm not naive. No wonder every time I sought intimacy, you came up with some excuse, saying you were stressed from work. So, this is what has been happening behind my back!"

Maya's expression shifted intensely, her voice drowning out Ethan's words.

"So you're trying to act like a Mr. Nice Guy, huh? Who provided the apartment you stayed in? Who provides the food you eat? The Audi you drove. Who provided that? You're utterly useless- not even worth a bit of my toes- and yet you have the nerve to talk nonsense to my face. You, the one I've been wanting to divorce, you pathetic loser!"

"Oh, you're calling me a loser now?" Ethan shook his head slightly. "With all that I've done for you and your family, not even thinking about those nights I cooked for you, took care of our pet, cleaned your mess when you were sick! So, is this how you want to pay me back?"

"Just be silent, you destitute fool, a worthless piece of trash. Good for nothing taxi driver. The affluent are conversing; you play no consequential part in the affairs of the wealthy!" Maya asserted, her facial expression carrying a hint of arrogance.

Despite running into her husband, it didn't fluster Maya and the stranger at all! It was because Ethan was a live-in son-in-law. He had an inferior status among the Reynolds.

"You had better go on your knees and plead for his mercy. Do you know who he is? Tony West. He is the boss of an investment firm and the scion of a top family in Los Angeles. And do you comprehend the net worth of his family?"

Tony West, a scion of the illustrious West family in Los Angeles, carries a legacy so weighty that the mere mention of his name brings with it a cascade of prestige and recognition. The West family is renowned for their wealth, numerous achievements, and the indelible mark left by Mr. George West, who stood as a titan in the city. Mr. George West's empire included a prestigious five-star hotel, and his net worth soared to an impressive 10 billion dollars, securing him a top spot on the city's financial rankings.

With his own remarkable achievements have positioned him as a prominent voice within the elite upper class society of Los Angeles, where only the wealthiest individuals hold sway and have the ultimate influence.

In an upper circle society, Tony has the power and connections to have Ethan fired.

Tony's laughter filled the surroundings as he moved away from Maya, then approached Ethan, whispering words into his ear. "Your wife is amazing on the bed and that will only consider not taking my action too hard on you," Tony said.

"I will only give you two opportunities: either you beg, your forehead touching my feet or your job as a taxi driver ends now! Make a wise choice!" he declared, stepping back, their gazes meeting.

Despite the disrespect shown to Ethan, the situation forced him into a position where he had to plead for something he hadn't done wrong.

They both acted as if nothing happened between them. Instead of receiving an apology, Ethan found himself pleading because he couldn't afford to lose the job.

The modest earnings he received were vital in providing support for his poor father.

With no second thought, Ethan goes down on his knees, pleading for Tony's mercy.

"Now, pick up my phone for me!?!" Tony said.

Picking up the phone to Tony, he exclaimed, "You bastard!!, see the way you damaged my phone, instead of me paying the money I owe you I'll either use it to repair my phone!?!"

Tony continued speaking, he suddenly used his foot to kick Ethan in the face so hard that he staggered backward.

"Get out of here!" Tony shouted, chasing him like a dog.

With a heavy heart, Ethan walked away, his wife's harsh words fading in the distance.

"I regret the day we got married!?!"

As he made his way into the elevator, he pressed the downstairs button.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Retrieving it, he glanced at the unknown caller ID, answering with a sense of doubt.

"Hello?" Ethan spoke, and the caller's panicked voice relayed distressing news, "Young Master, your father is dying.

Without any warning, the caller abruptly terminated the call, leaving Ethan in a state of bewildered curiosity.

He questioned the identity of the mysterious "Young Master" and wondered how an unfamiliar voice had obtained his private phone number.

Despite the pain of his wife's betrayal, he pushed it aside and eagerly pressed the down-floor button, longing for the safety of the lobby.

As the elevator doors glided open, Ethan stepped out into the vibrant and bustling lobby.

His thoughts were consumed by the painful scene of his wife's betrayal, playing on a loop in his mind.

Lost in thought, Ethan accidentally collided with a stylishly attired man adorned with sleek black glasses.

"I'm sorry," Ethan mumbled apologetically.

However, the man, his expression concealed behind an inscrutable mask, adjusted himself with composure and silently walked away, leaving Ethan unsettled and unanswered.

Moving toward where he parked his cab, Ethan's mind became a whirlwind of apprehension.

The unknown caller's words about his ailing father reverberated in Ethan's thoughts, instilling a profound sense of worry that gripped his heart.

As Ethan reached the cab stand, a voice called out, grabbing his attention.

"Apologies, sir, I'm Alex. May I have a moment of your attention?" A man, dressed in a sleek black suit radiating authority, stood before Ethan, a self-assured smile gracing his lips.

Curiosity mingled with caution as Ethan responded, "Alright, what can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Mr. Ethan Sinclair," the man explained, his gaze shifting towards three sleek black Maybach cars parked in a formidable formation. "Me and my teammates."

"We traced the car's license plate number to this location," he continued, his gaze fixed upon Ethan.

"Are you acquainted with the person associated with this vehicle?"

Sensing the gravity of the situation, Ethan's instincts kicked in, and he cautiously responded, "I hope there are no problems. I am the person you're referring to."

Without wasting a moment, Alex swiftly retrieved a scanning device and focused his attention on a picture displayed on the screen. Methodically, he compared the image to Ethan's face, his scrutiny yielding a satisfactory match. Confirming his discovery, Alex reached for a small microphone attached to his suit.

"I found him!" he declared triumphantly, relaying the message through the microphone to his team.

With perfect choreography, five additional bodyguards emerged from the Maybach vehicles, their presence commanding attention.

Donned in sleek, dark suits, their collective aura hinted at a connection to someone of significant power and wealth.

The coordinated arrival of these security personnel made the situation even more confusing and mysterious.

Caught in the whirlwind of this unexpected encounter, Ethan's mind became a battleground where curiosity clashed with mounting apprehension.

He found himself encircled by these enigmatic strangers, their motives cloaked in secrecy.

The pressing question loomed: Who were these men, and what was their purpose in seeking him out? Uncertainty weighed heavily as Ethan braced himself for the unknown ahead.

In a surprising turn, the bodyguards synchronized their movements, bowing in perfect unison. Their voices resonated as one, filling the air with a harmonious chorus, "Young Master, welcome back!"

Confusion washed over Ethan's face as he struggled to comprehend the unexpected address.

Being referred to as a "Young Master" left him bewildered, searching for answers.

The mystery deepened, leaving him more perplexed than before.

Caught off guard, Ethan stuttered, "Who... Who is the young master?"

Alex responded with resolute certainty, "You are, of course."

Ethan's jaw dropped in sheer astonishment, his finger trembling as he pointed towards himself.

"Me?" He echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief and wonder.

Alex's voice rang out with unwavering assurance. "Yes," he confirmed. "Your father has sent us to find you."

Unable to contain his amusement, Ethan burst into laughter at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

"You must be kidding!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief.

It seemed incomprehensible that such a strange turn of events could be anything other than a playful prank.

Because he was fully aware of his reality, Ethan had a clear understanding of his father's circumstances. His father was a humble man, constantly grappling with financial challenges.

The notion of his father employing bodyguards or owning luxurious vehicles like the Maybachs parked before him seemed utterly unfathomable.

The stark contrast between his father's modest life and the extravagant display before him only deepened his disbelief and skepticism.

Their cramped apartment spoke of financial struggles, making indulgence impossible.

But Alex remained resolute. "I understand how it may seem unbelievable," he began, a hint of determination in his tone.

"But I assure you, Mr. Sinclair, we're not playing games. Your father has been eagerly anticipating your return."

Ethan's laughter died down, replaced by a growing unease. His mind raced with questions.

Who was this "father" they spoke of? And why would he send such men after him? A dark suspicion began to take root in his mind. Could this be some elaborate scheme, a cruel prank played on him by someone with a twisted sense of humor?

But Ethan, left with no alternative, cautiously followed them into the Maybach.

"What about my cab?" Ethan queried, trailing Alex into the luxurious car.

"I'll take care of that," Alex assured him, and one of the imposing bodyguards skillfully drove the cab alongside them.

*********

Arriving at the Sinclair estate, Ethan's breath caught in his throat. The fancy gates sparkled in the evening sun, leading to a display of riches that made his big apartment seem insignificant.

Expensive cars filled the driveway, each surpassing the previous in sophistication.

Serious-looking bodyguards stood guard in sharp suits, their eyes icy and calculating.

Graceful maidens moved quietly through the well-kept gardens, their white uniforms standing out against the green plants.

Coming out of the car, Ethan's foot was suspended just above the red carpet, and the marble driveway suddenly felt like hot coals.

As he hesitated, the air crackled with a sudden, reverent hush. Every head bowed in unison, guards, maidens, even the gleaming cars, their voices booming in a chorus that sent shivers down his spine: "Young Master, welcome back!"

The title, a gilded cage before it was even explained, pressed down on him. He stepped forward, his mind spinning, and found himself enveloped in the oppressive embrace of the estate.

Marble floors, polished to a mirror shine, stretched into the distance, reflecting the crystal cascade of a chandelier that hung like a fallen star in the opulent foyer.

Every corner whispered of secrets kept in silk and gold, a stark contrast to the chipped paint and threadbare carpets of his apartment.

A wizened maiden, her face etched with a lifetime of secrets, stepped forward. "Your father is waiting for you in his room, Young Master," she murmured, her voice like dry leaves rustling in the wind.

Ethan's face contorted. "Just call me Ethan," he growled, frustration bubbling up like a geyser.

"And can you all just... stop with the bowing? It's creepy."

The maiden, unfazed by his outburst, merely inclined her head.

"Your father's wishes are our commands, Young Master," she said, her voice as smooth as the marble beneath his feet.

Ethan swallowed his response, the weight of the mansion's opulence and the mysterious title hanging heavy in the air.

With a heavy heart, he followed the maiden, each step leading him deeper into the gilded labyrinth of his unknown past, towards a father who held all the answers and a life he never knew he had.

The old maiden, her face a mask of unwavering duty, opened the double doors with a silent flourish.

In a cozy setting, Mr. Sinclair sat comfortably, surrounded by the pleasant light emanating from a crackling fire. He appeared delicate and weak, his body that was once robust and strong now covered by a black suit that appeared oversize on his diminished frame.

Yet, his eyes, the same piercing blue that Ethan saw reflected in his own mirror every morning, burned with an intensity that defied his years.

"Ethan," his voice rasped, a tremor of emotion threatening to shatter his composure.

"Welcome, son. I've been waiting for this day to come."

Ethan stood there, rooted to the spot, the vastness of the room and the weight of his father's words pressing down on him.

He felt like a child again, lost in a world of towering ceilings and gilded furniture that whispered secrets he wasn't ready to hear.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until Ethan finally found his voice.

"Father," he said, the word a tentative offering in the face of the unknown. "What is all this?"

Mr. Sinclair's smile was a flicker of light in the shadows. He gestured towards the chair opposite him, its plush leather a stark contrast to the hardwood Ethan had grown accustomed to.

"Sit, son," he said, his voice softer now, laced with an unspoken plea. "There's a lot to tell you."

Ethan took a hesitant step forward, his eyes drawn to the framed photographs that lined the walls. He saw himself, younger and carefree, alongside a woman with eyes that mirrored his own, a woman he barely remembered.

He saw his father, strong and vibrant, standing at the helm of a vast empire he could only imagine. And in each image, there was a shadow, a hint of darkness that lurked beneath the gilded surface.

As Ethan sank into the chair, the fire crackled, casting dancing shadows across the room. He knew, with a certainty that chilled his bones, that his life was about to change.

The game had begun, and he was a player, whether he wanted to be or not. He looked at his father, his face a canvas of questions, and whispered, "Tell me everything."

Mr. Sinclair's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

"There is a legacy, passed down through generations. A system that guides us, shapes our lives, even across the Earth, and it has been around long before I was born," Mr. Sinclair explained, his words rapid and intense, "designated Ancestral Heir System."

Ethan's mind reeled. "Ancestral... You mean my ancestors?! Are they still alive? And what about this next Earth you mentioned? Why the poverty, when you have all of this?"

Mr. Sinclair grinned wryly. "Ethan, our lives are extended; we're immortal. We don't just die; we move to another Earth, as a part of the grand plan. But poverty? That was just a test, a challenge set by the system to earn our rightful position on this planet."

Mr. Sinclair sprang to his feet and strode toward the untamed window beside his desk. Standing there, he surveyed the mesmerizing city lights shimmering below.

"Ethan," he declared with conviction, "that world out there is a crucible-an opportunity for you to prove your worth and, to claim your rightful place in the grand design."

During Ethan's father's time, when the Ancestral legacy was brought to life, Mr. Sinclair found himself living as an insignificant in-law in his wife's family, where he was despised by everyone to the point where he contemplated giving up. One fateful morning, he mustered the courage to confront his father, Mr. Denise Sinclair, and beat him up so that he reveals his true identity, only to discover a hidden system that could help shape their lives in profound ways. Fortunately, Mr Sinclair was so lucky that Ethan didn't do that to him.

Mr. Sinclair spun around and grabbed a polished black card from his desk. Handing it to Ethan, he spoke with a serious tone, "Ethan, I know the Reynolds haven't made things easy for you. But from today onward, you're not just a son-in-law," Mr. Sinclair declared, his voice resonating with determination.

"Resign from your job and assume the position of the new president of my company. I want to see you happy and help you move on from your past. Join my empire, Ethan. I've already consulted with the company's lawyer, and she assured me that everything is under control!"

"Okay, Father, I will, but make this a promise to me that you won't announce it publicly!?!" Ethan said, staring at the embossed words on the card.

"What about this?" Ethan said.

The VIP card holds its value in Los Angeles due to exclusive access granted to one family - the Sinclairs, known as the wealthiest individuals in the city.

"That! It is a VIP card that holds millions more than the richest man in Los Angeles possesses. Once you start your first ever task, it might come once or twice, your details will move into it!?!" Mr. Sinclair decided.

"And what happens if I fail?" Ethan added.

Mr. Sinclair's eyes, once filled with warmth, turned steely. "Failure is not an option, Ethan. For you, it means dying both in the mortal realm and... beyond."

Mr. Sinclair took a deep breath, his attention shifting towards a concealed panel on the wall.

He moved toward it and with a practiced touch, he unlocked the panel, exposing a metallic contraption pulsating with energy.

Ethan's anxiety spiked as Mr. Sinclair neared, holding the device in his hand. "Consider this... a safeguard," Mr. Sinclair uttered, his voice low and solemn. He pressed the injection against Ethan's flesh.

With the device emitted a pulsating light, enveloping Ethan in its glow.

His surroundings blurred, and numbers danced across his vision, unlocking cryptic secrets that remained indecipherable for the moment.

In Ethan's mindscape, digital chimes formed a symphony, harmonizing with the emergence of a serene voice.

"New Host Founded. Welcome, esteemed Master. I am Amanda, your Ancestral heir System. It is my pleasure to guide you through this grand initiation?"

"Let's see what you got?," Ethan replied, his voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.

"Initiating system loading sequence. 100%... 90%... 60%... 40%... 20%... 10%... Congratulations, Master! You have successfully unlocked the Ancestor System."

The ethereal voice accompanied a mesmerizing display of code materializing before Ethan's eyes. As if guided by an unseen force, the code coalesced into an intricate screen, presenting two distinct options:

"Grand Master Legacy."

"New Mission"

"Please select your desired starting point, Young Master."

Ethan, his heart thrumming with anticipation, made his choice. "Let's begin with the Grand Master Legacy."

"An excellent decision, Young Master. The Grand Master Legacy unveils the rewards and accomplishments of your predecessors, passed down through the Ancestral Heir System. It grants you access to their accumulated wealth and resources."

"What exactly is my father's legacy?" Ethan inquired, eager to unravel the secrets of his lineage.

"Your father, through his masterful navigation of the system, amassed an extraordinary legacy. He holds ownership of one of the world's most esteemed entertainment conglomerates, The Walt Disney Company, valued at $920,989."

"Additionally, he possesses a collection of exquisite Bugatti Centodieci automobiles, each a testament to refined engineering and unparalleled performance."

The realization left Ethan in wide-eyed disbelief.

The fact that his father owned one of the world's leading companies and possessed the most luxurious car store in Los Angeles was a shocking revelation.

It casts a harsh light on the stark contrast between his father's opulent life and Ethan's struggles, living like a mere shadow in his in-laws' house.

The air crackled with anticipation as Ethan, still reeling from the revelation of his family legacy, spoke into the void. "Next, the New Mission!" he commanded, his voice firmer than it had been moments ago.

The holographic screen pulsed again, a symphony of light morphing into a mesmerizing "countdown: 50%... 30%... 10%... 0."

Just then, a discordant note intruded. Ethan's phone vibrated, shattering the digital silence.

Expecting yet another mundane notification, he absentmindedly reached for it.

But the message that greeted him froze the blood in his veins. Wide-eyed, he stared at the screen, disbelief etched on his face. It wasn't a taxi customer, he thought it was. It was a simple statement:

"1 million dollars credited into your commercial bank."

Confusion warred with excitement in his mind. How? Why? A million dollars, just like that? Without breaking a sweat? Before he could spiral further into the whirlpool of questions, the holographic screen sprang back to life.

"Mission started" it declared, its voice imbued with a hint of playful urgency.

"You have 45 minutes to spend the entire sum. The clock is ticking, Master Ethan."

Ethan's mind raced. A million dollars in 45 minutes. It sounded like a fantastical challenge, a game thrown down by an unseen entity.

His gaze flickered, landing on the plain clothes he wore. A smirk danced on his lips. Mother-in-law's birthday, was it? He'd show them a birthday they wouldn't soon forget.

His father's card, miraculously inscribed with his name, pulsed once, then twice.

The countdown began: 60 seconds, 59, 58... With a triumphant laugh, Ethan knew exactly where this game would start. He had a million dollars, a blank canvas, and a ticking clock. The show was about to begin.

******

As Ethan arrived at the SuitFella Store, the grandest and most opulent establishment in town, owned by his mother-in-law, he stepped out of his taxi.

Glancing at the time displayed on his wristwatch, he noted that he had 18 minutes left, having used 27 minutes during the drive.

Approaching the entrance, he encountered an imposing security guard who blocked his way.

The guard, stern and unwavering, declared, "Please move away; people like you are not expected in this store," gesturing for Ethan to avoid using the glass door.

Ethan, taken aback, retorted, "Who are you? Do you know who I am?" Before he could continue, a voice intervened.

"Shut your mouth. Who are you? Aren't you also a servant to the Reynolds family? You and him, what's the difference?" The voice belonged to a woman behind the security guard.

"Allow him in. Perhaps Ms. Julia Reynolds might send him here to pass down some message to us concerning her birthday party tomorrow." Samantha Mitchell, Ms. Julia Reynolds's personal assistant, intervened.

"Come with me!" She instructed, guiding Ethan past the security guard.

As Ethan followed her in, he glanced at the wristwatch again, seeing that he had 10 minutes left. But suddenly, Samantha turned to Ethan and said,

"I was thinking of taking you to my office to discuss what brought you here, but a poor man like you doesn't deserve to be in my office!" She hesitated for a minute, her gaze swiping Ethan's body from head to toe.

"Let's discuss this here. What brings you here?" she said, her arms resting on the receptionist's desk.

"I want to get a suit that is worth 1 million dollars! It is urgent!!!" Ethan said, his face carrying a hint of seriousness.

But as the words left his mouth, mocking laughter suddenly escaped Samantha's lips.

"You must be joking. Where did you find that amount of money from, or did you steal it from Ms. Julia? Because everybody knows that your wife feeds you, and where does a poor man like you get that huge amount of money from?" She rolls her eyes, her hand flicking back her long hair.

"That's none of your business? I'm here to purchase a suit? My wife feeding me doesn't mean that you have the privilege to insult me?" Ethan warned.

"I can't find anything special about you, and I don't know what the Reynolds family found in you, that they allowed a poor human like you to get married to their daughter!?!" Samantha exclaimed, capturing the attention of nearby onlookers.

Ethan's face, boiling with anger, exclaimed back to her face." Enough of this, Samantha! I won't stand by while you make a fool of me. I refuse to tolerate this treatment from you or Reynolds any longer!" he declared.

"Do you think I'm, I'm not, but I'm just telling you the fact, Ethan, you're worthless. No wonder you are always an errand boy to the Reynolds family!?!" She said.

"I now understand why you're reluctant to leave the Reynolds' house with this mess they showed you. It's clear you're only interested in their wealth!" Samantha spat out.

"Samantha, I'm done with all your drama, just give me what I want and let me leave!!!" Before he could finish his words suddenly, the system's holographic screen sprang in his face, showing the time left.

"1 minute with 34 seconds left, and you must accomplish your task and if that is not done you know the consequence, Young Master!"

"No, not this time. What do you think the crowd will think of me now?? Please leave Amanda; I know that I'm not the only one seeing this!?!" He said.

"People will think I've got a superpower!?!"

"Remember, Young Master, I'm only in your head. You're the only one who knows what's going on in there. Fight against the demon inside you, compose yourself. No one's watching. Focus on the time left. And do you know the outcome of this challenge!?!"

The System's last word made Ethan's mind race with anticipation, remembering the consequences.

Was this it? Was this the final scene in his hastily rewritten life?

His vision blurs, sweeping over the onlookers nearby, whispers filling the air. "Take this man out of here; he's going crazy!" a voice exclaimed from the crowd.

Desperate for a solution, his mind raced. He scanned the opulent store, noting the shelves adorned with luxury items and the gleaming marble floors.

Amidst the sparkling displays, his eyes met Samantha's stern expression.

Without a word, Samantha raised her hand, her two fingers poised in the air. At that moment, Ethan's heart skipped a beat. He never knew what was coming.

Samantha's words pierced through the tense silence.

"It's high time for you to leave," she said, her voice laced with frustration.

"Don't come here and play pranks with us. This is a business organization, not a playground for TikTok antics."

Her hesitation was evident, a flicker of doubt before she made her next move. With a resolute expression, she turned and called out to the security personnel standing nearby, their imposing figures ready to enforce order.

"Come and take this man out of here!"

As the security guards approached, their stern faces mirrored Samantha's approval.

"Take him away!!"

One of them, a burly man with a firm grip, grabbed hold of Ethan's trousers.

With a powerful jerk, he tore the fabric from its place on the wall, sending it spiraling through the air with a helpless flutter.

Ethan's body followed the trajectory of his trousers, his feet leaving the ground as he hurtled towards the wall. The impact was jarring, his back colliding forcefully with the unyielding surface.

Pain shot through his body as he crashed to the ground.