He looked toward her mother's room at the end of the hallway. His choice was clear. Become a madman and accept 10 million, or become a cold executioner and get paid 300 million. They had turned him into this.
With an eerie calm, a thin smile appeared on Nathan's lips.
A smile that made Lisa and Boy take a slight step back, not understanding.
"Alright," Nathan said, his voice suddenly very calm and deep. "You said you wanted someone with vision, Lisa? You said you wanted more?"
Lisa stared at him, confused. "Nathan, what are you—"
"That money of mine," Nathan cut in, staring at Boy. "Consider it my investment. In your business. I'm sure it will become very profitable for you."
Boy narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "What do you mean?"
Nathan didn't answer. He just nodded slowly, then turned. Not towards the exit, but walked resolutely towards Mrs. Sari's room.
"Nathan! Where are you going?" Lisa shrieked, her voice panicked.
Nathan ignored her. He pushed the door to the room open. It was a simple room, smelling of wood and liniment.
Mrs. Sari, a woman in her fifties, was lying in bed. She wore a simple nightgown. She looked up, startled.
"Nathan? Son, you're back?" she said with a warm, genuinely kind face, a stark contrast to her daughter's.
A tightness gripped Nathan's heart, but he had chosen his path. He locked the door from the inside, ignoring Lisa's increasingly panicked knocking outside.
"Mrs. Sari," he uttered, his voice soft yet laced with iron determination.
[Level 1 Bed Power System activated.] the voice resonated.
Nathan felt a strange surge of energy flood his body, an undeniable confidence, and an instinctual knowledge of how to initiate an intimate encounter.
"Nathan, son, what's wrong? Why is Lisa…" asked Mrs. Sari, her eyes full of confusion and a little fear.
"This isn't about Lisa, Ma'am," Nathan said, approaching the bed. "This is about justice. And it's about an investment."
He sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes looked at the older woman, not with lust, but with a cold, focused purpose. The system guided him, moving his hand to touch Mrs. Sari's cheek with an undeniably skilled and captivating touch.
Mrs. Sari gasped, her face flushing. "Nathan… don't do this…"
But her protest was weak. The Level 1 system, though basic, was designed to overcome hesitation and awaken long-dormant sensations.
Nathan leaned in, whispering something in her ear—words that didn't come from him, but from the system, words full of persuasion and false promises.
The world outside the door, with its betrayal and pain, seemed to fade away. All that remained was Nathan's new mission. To take, not to give anymore. To get revenge in the currency they understood: money and pleasure.
And in his head, he could already hear the imminent chime, bringing with it the 300 million that would be his new capital. Capital for a completely different game. A game where he would make the rules.
The freezing cold in Nathan's heart began to thaw, replaced by a strange, unfamiliar heat. It wasn't the heat of anger or lust, at least not initially. It was the heat of a machine turning on, a system running its function. The mechanical voice in his head had faded, leaving behind a new, deeply embedded instinct, an innate knowledge of every art of seduction, every point of pleasure on a woman's body, every whisper that could melt resistance.
His eyes, once brimming with the water of disappointment, now emitted a different intensity. A sharp focus, almost predatory, but wrapped in a soft smile that had suddenly appeared on his face. It was a smile that didn't reach his eyes, which still held ice in their depths.
Mrs. Sari looked up from her bed. Her kind face, wrinkled by age and worry, looked confused and vulnerable. "Nathan, son... what's happening? Lisa sounds so panicked outside."
"Don't worry about that, Ma'am," Nathan uttered, his voice low and rhythmic, modulated by the system now controlling him. It was a soothing voice, full of confidence, vastly different from the hoarse, dust-filled voice he had used minutes before. He stepped closer, his movements smooth and purposeful. "They're just... discussing. Their future."
He sat on the edge of the bed, the old mattress creaking softly. He didn't touch her, not yet. He just sat, letting his presence be felt. "I just got back, Ma'am," he said, looking at her as if she were the only person in the world. "Months in that dark place. Thinking of only one thing: coming home to family."
The word "family" was spoken with special emphasis, and Mrs. Sari, in her confusion and her naive desire to see good, softened slightly. She had always liked Nathan. A hardworking, sincere boy.
"You... you look so tired, Son," she said, her voice trembling. "You should rest."
"Tired?" Nathan let out a small, warm laugh. "Yes, my body is tired. But seeing you, Ma'am, makes me feel... more alive."
It was a sentence the original Nathan would never have thought of. They were the system's words. But they worked. A faint pink flush appeared on Mrs. Sari's pale cheeks.
"Nathan, don't talk like that," she protested weakly, her eyes darting down to her Bible.
"Why not?" Nathan was gentle. His hand, rough and calloused, moved as if it had a life of its own. He didn't touch her skin. His fingers deliberately brushed against Mrs. Sari's hand, a light, brief touch that felt like an electric shock to the woman who hadn't been touched with such tenderness in so long.
He gave Mrs. Sari his full attention. The system guided him, feeding him data.
Target: Female, 50s, simple life, lonely, craves attention and validation.
"You were always so kind to me, Mrs. Sari," Nathan whispered, leaning in slightly so his face was closer.
His scent, a mix of sweat, travel dust, and something new—a kind of magnetic aura emitted by the system—filled the space between them. "Always welcoming me with a smile, always asking about me. In the quiet mine, memories of your warmth often comforted me."
It was a vicious lie. His thoughts had almost always been of Lisa. But the words came out with absolute conviction. His eyes, hijacked by the system, emitted a deep sincerity.
Mrs. Sari looked flustered, genuinely flustered. Her hands fidgeted with the blanket. "Son... I... it was nothing."
"To me, it wasn't," Nathan countered softly. His finger now rose, and with a touch so light it was almost imperceptible, like the faint beat of a butterfly's wing, he brushed a stray white hair from Mrs. Sari's simple bun and tucked it behind her ear.
The touch was deliberate and system-trained, hitting a sensitive spot in the curve of her ear.
Mrs. Sari drew a sharp breath, her body trembling. Her eyes widened, filled with conflict—shock, confusion, and a small, long-extinguished spark suddenly fanned by the wind.
"This... isn't right, Nathan," she hissed, but without strength. She didn't pull away.
"What's not right is them out there, Ma'am," Nathan whispered, his voice dropping lower, more intimate, as if sharing a secret. "They play with people's feelings and sacrifices. But us here... this is real. Your care for me is real. And... my attraction to you is real too."
The word "attraction" hung in the air, heavy and absurd. Mrs. Sari shook her head, but her eyes were locked on Nathan's.
"You were Lisa's fiancé," she whispered, as if trying to remind herself.
"Lisa chose to no longer be part of my life," Nathan said, and for a moment, genuine pain sounded in his voice before the system took over again. "She chose Boy. And my money. But you... you're different. You were always different."
Nathan's hand was no longer hesitant. The system gave him absolute confidence. His rough palm cupped Mrs. Sari's cheek gently. The contrast between his rough skin and her softness should have been strange, but it felt... arousing.
"I... I'm old, Nathan," whispered Mrs. Sari, tears welling in her eyes, a mix of shame, confusion, and sudden, unwelcome arousal.
"Age is just a number," Nathan uttered, bringing his face closer. His breath now warmed her skin. "You're beautiful, Mrs. Sari. Beautiful in a way Lisa isn't. A mature, wise... arousing way."
The last word was spoken right against her lips. And then, he closed the distance.