After sending off the excited guild mbers, Ryan, now celebrated as The First Tycoon, prepared for bed with a glass of milk. He had spent more than ten hours in the ga that day, diligently grinding his First Aid skill, and the fatigue had finally caught up with him. His stamina, which always seed barely enough to carry him through, felt completely drained now.
Just as he removed his headset and reached for the milk, Mia slipped quietly from her small room. She lingered in the doorway, staring at him for a long mont before whispering, almost too softly to hear, "Thank you... for the gear."
Her face flushed scarlet the instant the words left her lips. Without waiting for a response, she scurried back inside and shut the door behind her with a soft click.
Ryan chuckled under his breath and swirled the warm milk in his glass, savoring the mont before finishing it in a few gulps. With a faint smile, he set the empty glass aside and returned to his own room.
On the desk beside his bed lay his virtual headset. He gave it one last thoughtful glance before placing it carefully in its spot. The device had served him well, but he knew its days were numbered. News had reached him that very morning: a new, state-of-the-art ga access device was nearing completion. One of the very first units would be delivered directly to him, a personal reward for his continuous record of Glorious Achievents.
This new technology, a premium nutrient chamber, was being sold at a staggering fifty thousand dollars. It promised not only deeper imrsion into the evolving ga but also real-world physical enhancents. No more worrying about the slow decline of the body from sitting still too long—the chamber would maintain players in pri health.
His current, basic headset would soon beco obsolete, its data seamlessly transferred into the new system without interruption.
The breakthrough was nothing short of revolutionary, decades ahead of what the world had previously considered possible. And it had all sprung directly from the technological leverage unlocked through Kingdom Forge. And this was only the beginning.
Ryan understood what it ant. The chamber was a signal, a promise of more marvels yet to co. In the future, their society would not look outward for innovations—it would harvest them from its own growing tree of technology.
This was the true aning of technological leverage: the guarantee of accelerated growth, the dream of every civilization.
That night Ryan slept deeply, and when he awoke the next morning it was already seven o’clock.
Mia and Molly were in the kitchen. They had prepared a small pot of congee, though the thin portion made it clear they would need more food for breakfast. Without a word, Ryan slipped a few bills into his pocket and headed outside.
He returned with a packs of chicken and chips, the scent filling the air as he carried the bags back toward the house. But just as he turned onto the street corner, his steps froze.
A figure stood blocking his path. Familiar, unpleasant, impossible to mistake.
"Hmph. Heh. Hmph."
The man didn’t speak—he only sneered and grunted, as if the sound alone carried all the venom he wanted to express.
Ryan’s temper spiked. He looked at the man’s bloated face and couldn’t help himself. "Well, well. A pig in human clothing. No wonder you grunt instead of speak."
mories rushed back in an instant, fueling the urge to swing his right fist into that hateful face.
Victor Hanley.
The man who had made Ryan’s family’s life miserable. The man who had gone out of his way to block them from even the lowest, most nial jobs.
And yet, in a twisted way, Ryan owed him. If not for Victor’s cruelty, Ryan might never have chosen to earn money through gaming when he returned. He would have followed a safer path, slowly building a company of his own, relying on his foresight of the future to secure prosperity.
While this man had, in a roundabout way, saved Ryan from many wasted detours, Ryan felt no gratitude for it. All he carried toward Victor Hanley was a deep, simring rage.
"Damn pauper, still so defiant?" Victor sneered, his gaze sweeping over Ryan with open disdain. "I heard you couldn’t even afford to keep renting Kenny’s rundown place. And here you are, still acting tough."
Ryan said nothing. His life had improved greatly in recent weeks, but he hadn’t bothered to replace his old clothes. They were worn, yes, but comfortable, and between his schedule and his priorities, he hadn’t felt the need to buy new ones.
To Victor, however, those clothes told a different story. He saw only the sa downtrodden Ryan he had always looked down on, soone he could sneer at and trample over.
"You’re blocking my way. A good dog knows not to stand in the path. Move aside."
Ryan’s voice was cool, almost casual, but his eyes burned. He had no desire to waste his energy shouting at such a vile man. He sidestepped, brushing past, leaving Victor red-faced with fury.
"Stop right there!"
Victor could not believe it. The man he had always treated like dirt had the audacity to mock him? Did Ryan still think he was the rich kid of old?
Grinding his teeth, Victor spun around and lunged. His fist cut through the air, aid squarely at the back of Ryan’s head.
But Ryan’s reflexes, sharpened from countless hours in-ga and in training, kicked in. He heard the rush of air behind him, his muscles tensed, and he darted forward just in ti. The punch sliced past where his skull had been an instant earlier.
Ryan half-turned, ready to retaliate—but paused when he caught sight of movent at the edge of the street.
The young woman who had once handed him a notice now stood there, flanked by several n. In a flash, they had Victor on the ground, pinning him with ease. His struggles only earned him a few solid blows for his trouble.
Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, goodbye. No, better yet—never to be seen again."
He offered the young woman a polite nod before turning and walking away, leaving Victor cursing and flailing beneath the fists of strangers.
"What will your fate be?" Ryan thought, the corner of his mouth lifting. He erased Victor’s na from his mory then and there.
He had no reason to hold on to it. He was, after all, a silent hero of the Federal Governnt, the one who had brought them imnse technological leverage. Anyone foolish enough to attack him in broad daylight had already signed their own death warrant, whether they realized it or not.
When he finally returned ho, Molly was waiting at the table with her arms crossed, her lips pushed into a pout. "Brother, why are you back so late? Mia and I have been waiting for you for more than ten minutes!"
The congee was still on the table, faint wisps of steam rising from the bowl, though it had cooled since it was first set out.
"Nothing happened," Ryan replied lightly, setting down the bag chicken and chips. "Just ran into soone from the past. He wasn’t doing so well, and I guess I got a little sentintal. Took a mont longer than I should have."
He glanced at Mia, who was absently poking the table with her spoon, while Molly tugged impatiently at his sleeve.
Yes, he thought to himself, no longer an enemy. Just another stranger, fading away into the background of his life.
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