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The wooden door groaned on its hinges, swinging shut behind them. Inside, the house felt like another world—dim and cloistered, the air thick with the faint scent of wood polish and herbs. The faint tick-tock of a clock punctuated the heavy silence as Thorin gestured toward the table in the center of the room, its surface scattered with blueprints, tools, and scraps of parchnt.

"Please sit," Thorin muttered, dropping into a chair opposite the one he'd offered. His tone carried a sharp edge, but Alex didn't take offense. He understood the weight the man carried.

He had used Thorin's mother to shake the guy last ti, but it had been a while since then, and as Alex didn't contact the guy at all, he might be harboring doubts.

Alex pulled back the chair, its legs scraping faintly against the floor, and sat. Thorin's eyes never left him, wary and probing.

"You're not here for small talk," Thorin said flatly, folding his arms across his chest.

He rembered Alex telling him to think about his offer, and he had been doing that. But that didn't an he would go ahead and talk about it; he would wait for Alex to ntion it.

Alex leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. "No, I'm not," he said, deciding to play along.

Thorin raised an eyebrow, his skepticism almost palpable.

"It's about your mother," Alex said, his voice steady but soft.

The room seed to hold its breath. Thorin's expression froze, his lips pressing into a thin line as a flicker of sothing—hope, anger, or maybe fear—flashed in his eyes. His hands curled into fists, knuckles whitening.

Alex could see all of that, and he had brought up this topic on purpose. He knew that Thorin wouldn't be shaken by anything other than his mother—the only family mber he had.

Alex knew that the guy must be angry. He was ignored for days after all. But Alex was also aware of the guy's nature. He was filial, so he won't let his anger cloud his judgnt.

"She's dying," Thorin finally spoke, the words dropping like stones into a still pond. "They say it's incurable. Even the best healers in the city are at a loss." He looked away, the bitterness in his voice barely restrained. "So why bring it up unless you've got so miracle up your sleeve?"

He had been trying everything he could until now. He tried stealing to buy dicines and even sold so old artifacts his mother had left for him, but all he got in return was shattered hope.

He wanted to sell the contract to hire a healer, but after his last encounter with Alex, he decided against it. He decided to make new devices—smaller versions of the voting board—and sold them.

He was able to amass enough money to hire a healer in no ti as that thing was in high demand, but when the healer ca...

We can't heal this—was all they said.

Alex's gaze, on the other hand, didn't waver. He could see many emotions flashing past Thorin's eyes, and he knew that this guy was in need of hope, so he gave it to him. "Because I do," Alex replied to Thorin's words.

Thorin's head snapped back toward him, his brows furrowing. He searched Alex's face for any sign of deceit but found none. "You... you're serious?"

"I can save her," Alex said firmly, leaning back in his chair.

Alex's system made it possible for him to get anything. The dream system's store can get you anything—any imagination or creation ever made—as long as you have system points.

For a mont, the words hung in the air, unreal. Thorin swallowed hard, his throat bobbing visibly. "What do you want in return?"

"Like I have said before—your loyalty," Alex said without hesitation. "Not as a servant—" he raised a hand to forestall the protest forming on Thorin's lips, "—but as a partner. I have a vision, Thorin. And you're the only one who can help build it."

Thorin let out a short, bitter laugh. "Vision? What kind of vision could possibly involve ?"

"I want you to establish an organization," Alex said, his voice calm but unwavering. "One that rivals the rchant Association."

Thorin blinked at him, stunned into silence for a mont. Then he laughed again, harsher this ti, the sound echoing through the small room. "You're insane. The rchant Association has been around for centuries! It's backed by nobles, royalty, and gods know what else. You're asking to compete with that?"

"Yes," Alex replied simply, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

"You're out of your mind," Thorin said, shaking his head.

"Think smaller," Alex urged, leaning forward. "We won't challenge them directly—not yet. We'll start local, focus on niche markets, and build a network of independent rchants. We don't need to topple the rchant Association overnight. We need to plant the seed."

Thorin's hands gripped the edge of the table. "You're oversimplifying it. Do you have any idea how much money, manpower, and influence that'll take?"

"I do," Alex said, his voice steady. "And I'll provide all of it. Funding, protection, connections—you'll have everything you need to succeed. And when you hit a wall, I'll give you the ideas to break through it." He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle. "And I'll save your mother."

Thorin froze, his breath catching. He stared at Alex, his skepticism warring with the desperate hope flickering in his eyes. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, his hands falling to his lap.

"You're not lying," he murmured, more to himself than to Alex.

Thorin didn't know for sure, but he sohow felt that Alex wasn't lying. Even if it turned out to be a lie, in the end, he would bla himself for being bad at judging people.

"No," Alex, as if reading the guy's mind, said quietly. "I'm not."

Thorin exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. "You're asking for a lot."

"I'm offering more," Alex countered.

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

It was true that Alex was offering more. Just saving his mother would've been enough for Thorin to give his loyalty to anyone, but this?

'Sigh...' Thorin sighed as he finally gave a small, reluctant nod. "Fine," he said, his voice rough. "You save her, and I'm yours."

A faint smile tugged at Alex's lips, but before he could speak, the door burst open, slamming against the wall.

The woman Alex had spoken to earlier stood in the doorway, her face pale and her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

"Master!" She gasped, her voice trembling.

Alex shot to his feet, his eyes narrowing. "What happened?"

"It's Lilia Morningstar," the woman blurted out. "She's gone missing."

Alex's jaw tightened. "What do you an, missing?"

"She was last seen in her cabin in the student council yesterday," the woman said quickly. "Her guards found signs of a struggle but no trace of her. The council is in chaos."

Thorin's brows knitted together. "Lilia Morningstar... the vice president of the student council? Why would soone take her?"

Alex's mind raced, piecing together fragnts of recent events. His eyes darkened, and his tone turned cold. "Because soone's sending a ssage. To the student council."

He turned back to the woman. "Gather every scrap of information you can find—rumors, sightings, anything. And get the council under control. I'll handle this."

The woman nodded and disappeared as quickly as she had co.

Thorin watched Alex, his own concerns montarily forgotten. "What are you going to do?"

Alex's gaze was like steel, his voice as sharp as a blade. "Find her. And whoever's behind this—they'll regret it."

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