"Pfft!"
Even Alice couldn’t help laughing when she saw what had just happened. Watching the usually dominant Veil take a loss in front of a baby—no matter how she looked at it, it was just too adorable.
Veil’s mouth twitched slightly as he stared at the baby, who was still fiddling with his fingers. He couldn’t help but mutter to himself.
"Unbelievable..."
The first ti he ever got outplayed, and it was by this baby?
No matter how he looked at it, sothing felt off. This kid... had sothing.
If he didn’t already know the system wouldn’t throw a major opponent at him in the form of a literal infant, he might’ve suspected the child was so reincarnated child of fate.
Just as the two were entertaining the baby, a loud commotion erupted outside.
Alice instinctively reached for Veil’s hand, and the two walked out together.
...
At the orphanage gates, a drunken middle-aged man had grabbed the elderly headmistress by the collar, reeking of alcohol as he bellowed in her face.
"You old hag! You kept this from for how long, huh? That trashy orphanage actually moved into this fancy-ass neighborhood? You got money to rent a whole damn building, but no money to get a wife?!"
He shoved her harder against the wall, eyes bloodshot. "I’m telling you now—unless you cough up eighty to a hundred grand, you’re not leaving this place!"
"Don’t you dare hurt Grandma!"
"Leave her alone!"
"You’re a big fat bully!"
A chorus of children had already rushed out. The mont they saw the gentle old headmistress being harassed, their innocent faces twisted in fury, ready to storm forward and defend her.
"Everyone, stop! Stay back!" the old headmistress cried out, turning quickly to the caregivers behind her. "Get the children inside! Don’t co near!"
She was in pain, struggling in the man’s grasp, but her fear wasn’t for herself—it was for the kids. The last thing she wanted was one of them getting hurt because of her.
"What’s going on? Why’s the headmistress dealing with a guy like that? Should we call the police? If this keeps up, she’s gonna get hurt," one of the younger caregivers whispered.
"That’s her son," said another, a veteran staff mber with a bitter expression. "Even if the cops take him, the headmistress will be the first to bail him out. It’s family business. Hard for people like us to interfere."
Alice and Veil had just stepped out when they overheard the exchange.
"Him again? Bastard! How could he treat the headmistress like this?!" Alice’s fists clenched in rage.
And for soone like her, who rarely ever lost her temper, the way her whole body shook now spoke volus. Even Veil’s system wouldn’t have counted this much fury when tallying her emotional spikes.
Now, though, she was furious, teeth clenched tight, fury blazing in her eyes.
"Hey now," Veil said gently, pinching her cheek. "You’ve got , rember?"
With that, he released her and walked straight toward the drunk.
No questions asked, no drawn-out speeches.
He reached out and grabbed the drunk’s wrist, squeezing until the man’s face went pale and he was forced to let go of the old woman.
The man snarled and swung a punch in retaliation.
Veil’s eyes went cold.
He casually swatted the man’s fist aside, then grabbed him by the throat and slamd him up against the wall like he was pinning down a stray dog.
Smack!
The first slap landed, reddening one side of the man’s face.
Then ca another.
And another.
The sound echoed down the street—sharp, fast, relentless, like a downpour.
In just a few monts, the man sobered up from sheer pain alone. His face looked like it had been stung by bees on both sides.
"Master Lancaster, please stop!" the old headmistress pleaded. She rubbed her neck with one hand, her voice hoarse. "He’s a bastard, sure, but if you keep going, it could turn into a real ss. If the cops get involved—"
"It’s fine, Headmistress. I’m just having a bit of fun," Veil said with a light smile as he let the man crumple to the ground. Then his gaze turned ice-cold. "Say it’s fine."
"W-what...?" The man blinked, confused and bruised.
Smack! Smack!
"Did I say you could talk? I said say—it’s—fine."
"I-it’s fine!" the drunk stamred, lips swollen and voice trembling. It took him several tries to get the words out clearly.
Smack! Smack!
Another two slaps, and now his eyes were swollen shut, face unrecognizable.
The man was utterly humiliated. Not only had he gotten nothing from today’s trip—he’d probably have to fork over a ton in hospital bills too.
Under Veil’s piercing stare, he lowered his head and apologized with a quiver in his voice.
"I’m sorry!"
"There you go," Veil said coolly, tapping his forehead twice. "Next ti, don’t let catch you harassing the headmistress again. I don’t care who you are—I will have a little chat with you. Got it?"
"Got it! Got it!"
The man nodded like a bobblehead, then apologized again to the headmistress before running off, cradling his face, looking like a dog that had just been kicked out in the rain.
"Don’t worry anymore, Grandma. Now that Master Veil’s here, that man won’t dare ss with you again," Alice said softly as she helped steady the trembling old woman.
"Sigh..."
The headmistress only let out a long, weary sigh. Her kind eyes had lost their usual warmth, and in that mont, she looked ten years older.
Veil narrowed his eyes.
Sothing felt off.
This wasn’t just a random scuffle.
It wasn’t every day soone ca knocking, practically begging him to make a show of dominance.
Roy, the child of fate tied to the orphanage, had already been taken care of. As far as Veil was concerned, the matter should’ve been settled.
So why... this?
Why now?
And why this man—tied to soone as significant as the headmistress?
Sothing didn’t add up.
Not at all.
Sothing wasn’t right.
Veil raised a brow and asked curiously, "Matron, that drunk guy just now—was he really your son?"
The old matron nodded... then shook her head. Her face twisted into a bitter smile, clearly struggling with the truth. But after everything had just happened out in the open, what point was there in hiding it?
"Austin was the first child I ever adopted when I was young," she finally said, her voice hoarse. "You could say he was the very first orphan to enter this ho. Back then, I didn’t have many resources or much support—just a handful of children under my care, and it all started in my own house. Only as more kind souls ca forward and the donations began to grow did we have enough to build the orphanage as it is now..."
The mories clearly pained her. Even soone as selfless as the old matron couldn’t help but feel an extra attachnt to the first child she had taken in. It wouldn’t have been wrong to say she raised him like her own flesh and blood.
But as Austin grew up and eventually left, she stayed behind, continuing her work at the orphanage. She hadn’t paid him as much attention after that. What she never expected was that all the love she had poured into him when he was little would turn into a kind of poison—giving him the illusion that he could take without giving, that the world owed him sothing.
He never really got his act together. Just wandered aimlessly through life, and sowhere along the way, he got hooked on gambling. It wasn’t long before he started asking her for money. At first it was occasional—just a little here and there. But eventually, even the ager wages he earned doing hard labor all ended up at the gambling tables.
"You all saw what happened earlier. I only have myself to bla. Maybe if I had stayed closer to him when he first stepped out into the world, maybe if I’d pulled him away when he got mixed up with the wrong people... he wouldn’t have turned out like this."
The old woman’s voice cracked as the tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks.
To her, Austin was a thorn buried deep in her heart—a symbol of everything she regretted, of every mistake she believed she’d made.
"Matron, none of this is your fault!" Alice stepped forward quickly, her voice full of warmth and conviction. "Look at all the other kids who’ve co out of this orphanage—how many of them ended up like Austin?
Most of them still co back to visit during the holidays. A lot of them even donate to the ho when they can. You’ve raised so many children who went on to beco good people. You can’t let one bad apple make you question everything you’ve done right."
Veil stood off to the side, his brow furrowed as he watched Alice comfort the matron. Sothing didn’t sit right.
He gave a few polite words of comfort, then got to the real point.
"Matron, I need to ask you sothing."
"Of course, Mr. Lancaster. If there’s anything I can help with, just say it." She raised her eyes to et his, their clarity dulled with age but filled with sincerity.
Veil spoke slowly. "In all the years the orphanage has been operating, has anything... unusual ever happened? Like a priest or a strange man showing up, insisting that a certain child had ’potential’ and taking them away?"
The matron blinked in surprise.
"Or," Veil continued, eyes narrowing, "has there ever been a case where a fire broke out and so boy—maybe a teenager—rescued a group of beautiful girls, only to vanish completely afterward? No body, no trace, nothing?"
It might’ve sounded ridiculous to anyone else, but Veil had learned to read the signs. The mont Austin showed up, drunk and making a scene, it had set sothing off in his mind.
This was an orphanage.
And in stories, orphanages were always ground zero for fate’s chosen ones—children of destiny, protagonists in hiding, ticking ti bombs of fate waiting to go off.
He’d seen this pattern before. When Blood Mandala appeared ahead of schedule, when Anna inexplicably arrived in Veyport City... This slled the sa.
The matron frowned, clearly digging through the fog of mory.
"There might’ve been... sothing like that. I can’t recall exactly. I’m getting old, and there have been so many children. I rember the ones who ca back, but those who left and never returned... well, I just can’t rember them all clearly.
As for a fire... no, there’s never been one."
Veil almost rolled his eyes.
Might’ve been? Don’t quite rember?
In this world, that basically ant yes. It was textbook foreshadowing. He could already hear the music cue.
"Then what about any girls who left here and went on to beco the CEO of a major company? Billionaires? Or maybe famous actresses, pop idols, airline poster girls?"
Assassins, hitwon, or rcenaries would be a stretch—no point asking about them.
"No." The matron shook her head with certainty.
That answer made Veil’s stomach sink.
This wasn’t good.
If this was the setup for a "seven sisters" kind of storyline, where the female leads were elite professionals—corporate queens, idols, and whatnot—that would’ve been manageable. At least the antagonists in that kind of setup were typically spoiled rich kids—punchable and easy to preempt.
But if this was the type where the MC had grown up isolated, training on so remote mountain under a mysterious master... and now he was coming back for revenge?
That was a different problem entirely.
Those ones ca back with fists made of steel and a body count behind them.
"Master Veil? What’s wrong? You seem... distracted." Alice stepped closer, concern written all over her face. She reached up and gently smoothed the crease between his brows with both hands. "Don’t think about things that’ll upset you, okay? Is this about an old friend who went missing?"
Veil gave a dry laugh in his mind.
Friend? You an the kind who stabs you in the back twice for good asure?
Still, after a mont of quiet thought, he exhaled and let it go. There was no need to stress too much. Worst case? He’d just accelerate the plan and handle the fate-chosen ones on the entertainnt industry side first. He already knew how things would unfold. Even if so of them started out with a higher power level... so what?
He’d just plan around it.
And if things really went south, well... he still had friends in Luxhaven City. A few phone calls could bring in the reinforcents he needed.
Once that thought settled in his mind, the weight lifted.
The next few days passed in a blur of light-hearted joy. Veil spent his ti doting on Alice—taking her to amusent parks, browsing clothing stores. And when no one was looking, he’d slip into the fitting room with her and help her... "asure" how well the outfits fit.
anwhile, business kept moving.
He finalized the neighborhood transfer contract with Caspian, and just like that, another massive sum hit his account.
After subtracting the six billion in cash and the six billion in pending paynts, he still ca out with twelve billion in clean profit—all squeezed out of the funds Caspian had scrambled to raise.
Of course, it was a 50-50 deal. Veil had worked with Joseph on this one, so naturally, they split the profit. Even though Joseph tried to refuse, Veil made sure the six billion was transferred.
Details like that weren’t worth bickering over.
In the end, all that money would go to Sierra anyway.
Regardless of what the future held between him and Sierra, there were only two possible outcos.
Either she stayed, and the money stayed with him.
Or she left—and he’d take both the money and her with him.
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