He was technically the son of a great General, yet his financial situation was hardly better than that of a starving orphan.
The original owner had spent years locked away inside that ruined courtyard, receiving barely enough food and basic necessities to survive. Even those miserable supplies had often been reduced because servants would quietly take their share.
There had been no rewards, no allowance, and no meaningful support from the manor.
Everything the original Zion possessed had been accumulated by painstakingly saving whatever scraps he could.
"How did someone this poor even manage to survive?"
The thought of money immediately reminded Zion of another person.
Callista Moonstone.
That shamelessly beautiful princess who had somehow managed to owe him a hundred gold coins after their first meeting without actually paying him anything.
"If she had simply paid me that hundred gold coins like a normal person," Zion thought bitterly, "I wouldn't have to worry about money right now."
The two furballs immediately joined in.
'Master got scammed.'
'Completely robbed by beauty.'
Zion's expression darkened.
"Silence."
He continued walking until he passed a blacksmith workshop. Heat poured from the open entrance, carrying the smell of burning coal and molten iron, while the rhythmic ringing of hammers echoed through the street.
Zion stopped there because he needed something.
When he eventually left, he had spent nearly all of his remaining savings commissioning a set of silver needles.
At that point, he had officially crossed the line from poor to completely penniless.
There was little point in continuing to wander around North Street, so Zion sighed and turned toward the General's Manor.
He had only walked part of the way when his footsteps gradually slowed.
A faint crease appeared between his brows.
Someone was following him.
The presence was subtle, hidden beneath the noise of the crowded street and the countless footsteps surrounding him. However, Zion had spent years dealing with schemes and hidden enemies in his previous life, and his instincts toward hostile intent were considerably sharper than those of an ordinary person.
Without turning around, he deliberately changed his pace.
He walked faster for a while, then slowed down.
The footsteps behind him adjusted accordingly.
Zion's eyes narrowed.
There was no longer any doubt.
Someone was following him.
Rather than confront them in the middle of the crowded street, he casually moved toward a narrower side road where the number of pedestrians gradually decreased. After turning through several old buildings, he entered a twisting alley.
If they wanted to follow him so badly, then he might as well find out who they were.
Zion turned another corner and disappeared from sight.
Several breaths later, two men hurried into the alley.
"Where did he go?"
"I swear I saw him come in here."
"The boy Her Highness took an interest in can't have simply disappeared."
The two men continued searching, completely unaware that Zion was already crouching silently on the roof above them.
Once he recognized their faces, a cold smile appeared on his lips.
Gilbert.
Edmund.
Vanessa's dogs.
From the original owner's memories, Zion knew these two well. They had constantly followed Vanessa around, using her status to make themselves appear important. Whenever they encountered Zion, they would mock him openly and sneer at him from behind their mistress, confident that the authority they borrowed from her protected them from consequences.
Apparently, that confidence had not disappeared.
They had actually followed him into an alley.
Zion looked down at them for another moment.
Then he moved.
His figure dropped silently from the rooftop.
Before either man could react, his hands struck the backs of their necks in rapid succession.
Thump.
Thump.
Their bodies went limp almost immediately and collapsed onto the stone pavement.
A small cloud of dust rose around them.
Zion landed beside them and calmly straightened his sleeves.
He glanced at the unconscious men.
"Following someone when he's already broke..."
A thought suddenly crossed his mind.
A smile slowly appeared.
"That's practically delivering money straight to my door."
He crouched down and searched their robes.
His fingers soon found two heavy money pouches.
Zion's eyes brightened.
He weighed one in his hand before checking the other.
Both were full.
Apparently, being one of Vanessa's followers came with considerably better financial benefits than being the young master of the General's Manor.
That realization was slightly painful.
Still, money was money.
Zion tucked the two pouches away and quietly returned toward the manor.
Once he reached his ruined courtyard, he slipped inside without attracting attention.
The money he had taken would help for the moment, but it wouldn't solve his long-term problem.
He needed a reliable source of income.
With that in mind, Zion began searching through the old cabinets and dusty boxes scattered around the courtyard. He went through everything he could think of, hoping the original owner had left behind something that could still be sold.
After quite some time, he finally found a few pieces of jewelry.
A pair of simple earrings.
A delicate bracelet.
Nothing particularly valuable, but at least they were worth something.
No matter how badly the manor had neglected him, Zion was still technically a young master of House Phoenix. Completely stripping him of every possession would have been difficult to explain if outsiders ever took notice.
Zion placed the jewelry on the table and rested his chin against one hand.
Even if he sold all of it, however, it still wouldn't be enough.
If he wanted to surpass Kaelan and continue cultivating at a rapid pace, he would need a much larger supply of resources.
He needed wealth.
Not a few gold coins here and there.
A real source of income.
Zion sat quietly for a while as the lantern light flickered across the courtyard.
Then a thought suddenly surfaced.
His eyes lit up.
"A medical clinic."
The answer had been sitting in his own hands all along.
His medical knowledge was one of his greatest advantages in this era. He possessed ancient pharmaceutical knowledge that had been lost over the centuries, and he knew the true value of ingredients that modern pharmacists considered useless.
Why not turn that knowledge into money?
A clinic would provide him with exactly what he needed.
Patients would bring income. Medicine would bring connections. Those connections would eventually provide him with information and influence as well.
The more Zion considered it, the more practical the idea seemed.
His expression gradually brightened, and a smile spread across his face.
Finally, he had found a proper way to make money.
And unlike stealing from people who followed Vanessa around, this was something he could build into a real business.
Zion leaned back in his chair, already beginning to think about how he would set everything up.
His path to becoming rich had finally appeared.
Medicine.