"Why… What have I ever done to you? Why are you doing this to me?"
In a half-built skyscraper, a man with his bloodied hands scratched the concrete floor. Outside, the rain poured heavily, but his voice could be heard clearly in that empty building. His face was covered in blood and bruises, almost devilish in the flickering light.
Behind him appeared a man in a black suit, who grinned as he halted right in front of him. "The CEO's chair doesn't suit you, Paul. You should have remained an accountant, you know. A calculator, a pen, and a desk. That's all you are, Paul: a nobody.
Paul couldn't lift his head. He was kneeling, lifeless as before yet desperate to know the one thing.
"Smith... Why me?" He asked, gathering all the strength within him.
"What a shame! Paul. I never thought that geniuses like you also have that stupid side. Have you ever wondered why my father gave you all the wealth instead of his own son? Why would he be so eager to marry his only daughter to someone like you? Think, my brilliant CEO. Use that fucking brain of yours."
Smith placed a cigarette in his mouth and took out a lighter from his pocket to light it. He then began to smoke leisurely, giving him enough time to ponder. However, Paul just froze in his kneeling position.
"Hmm… Hey, don't die yet, let me pass you a secret before you completely shut your eyes." Smith squatted down, letting out the smoke on Paul's crimson face.
"I'm not his biological son."
Paul's eyes twitched a little from his revelation.
When Smith saw there was no further reaction, he was dissapointed, but then a creepy smile appeared on lhis ips. He tapped on the cigarette's head and continued.
"Yes, you heard it right. And your wife, whom you consider my beloved sister, is actually my lover. Well, we're more than just lovers. It was her father who separated us."
Paul had already guessed it, since the day thof ey married. The only reason he continued their marriage was his daughter.
"He's dead. Now it's your turn. Wait, there's another surprise for you. Your daughter is actually not…"
Before Smith could finish, Paul lunged at him, tried to strangle him to death, but Smith blocked his attack midway and landed a heavy punch on his face.
Paul, who was already beaten so much, now completely lost his consciousness.
"Shit, I must admit, you poor folks are tough, like cockroaches." Smith shook the blood off his right hand. His gaze locked onto Paul who lay on the side.
He walked toward Paul and as he reached, he grabbed his hair.
Paul felt he was dragged mercilessly, yet he had no energy left to resist. The last bit of strength had spent on that failed attack.
Smith brought him to the edge of the floor where strong breezes stung his wounds. Without wasting any time, Smith lifted him up.
But he didn't drop him. He brought him closer, holding him by his throat. And leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You know what, I want to torture you more. But my sweetheart begged me to grant you a swift death. So, Paul, see you in heaven." Then he dropped him.
A strong suction force pulled Paul down. After all, he fell from the twenty-fifth floor. His body felt no pain in the air, so he tried to open his eyes; however, he failed badly.
"Damn this life. Damn that bitch." He started to curse everyone responsible for his demise. There were many, though, one in particular, he cursed most. That was his late father-in-law.
"Old man, why did you drag me into your family drama? Good that you already died. If not, I would have killed you with my own hands." His life was slipping from his body. Still, he didn't forget to raise his middle finger toward Smith. Though his gesture might not have been seen by Smith, it brought him last-minute pleasure.
And after that, his ragged breathing stopped.
…
"Young master, young master, open your eyes, young master."
A strange and unfamiliar voice fell in Paul's ears. He thought he had died, yet the sound stirred him awake. His eyes opened to see what was happening, but they widened in shock.
Paul's head rested on the lap of a thin, wrinkled-faced uncle, who was looking at him dearly. Paul shouted as he got up.
"Who… who the hell are you?" He was stunned the moment he saw the uncle's attire, especially the robes he wore.
The uncle was dressed in a green cotton robe with an ancient character stitched in golden thread. He moved to close the distance between him and Paul.
"Stay back. Don't come any closer." Paul warned him, but inside, he was freaked out.
"How come I sound like this?"
Before he could think further, the uncle cut his thought off.
"Young master, it's me. Old Lao. Your servant and also your protector." Old Lao stepped back, trying to calm his Young Master as much as he could.
Paul didn't even look at him. His attention was fully drawn to the crowd behind Old Lao. They were gossiping, and he was their topic. Paul didn't believe that he could even hear them, standing far away.
"Has he gone mad or something?"
"Obviously, who forgets one's own servant, right after getting a single hit?"
"Alright, you don't have to be so direct. Look, his family is also present here, lower your voice."
"So what, is there anything to hide? Everyone here knows he is a good-for-nothing."
"Do you know? He's crippled down there."
"Really?"
"His mother has an affair with another man."
So much noise rang inside his mind. His hands reached to clutch his head, trying to stop those incoming voices from all sides. But there was no way he could.
"Ahhh…" He screamed in agony, and blood came out of his nostrils.
Just then a sturdy man with a beard entered the platform. He flew directly toward Paul and, without hesitation, slapped him across his ears.
The slap was so hard that Paul's body crashed into the corner of the platform. He didn't even see that coming. He just felt as if his body were hit by a hammer. However, his noise problem was solved.
Just as Paul was about to rise with his trembling legs, a voice deep within him rang.
[New Host is detected]
[Integration has started]
[Progress 1%… 100%]
[Please complete the task to verify you're not a robot]
[Task: Spit on the approaching person's face.]
[Failure results in complete erasure from the world]
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The sound of the heavy boots brought Paul back to reality. He turned to see, only to utter a single word.
"Fuck."
The person who was coming toward him was none other than the one who had just slapped him.