Every individual on the island—employee or family member—received a simple black card upon arrival. The card linked to a personal account in the new system, managed by Sphera in the background. No physical money. No banks. Just points.
Basic needs were covered freely: public transport, basic food rations, water, electricity, medical check-ups, housing maintenance. No one would starve or suffer. But anything beyond the basics—branded clothes, gourmet meals, premium furniture, entertainment upgrades, extra space in the house—had to be purchased with points.
He had given bonus points to each employee based on their current position in the company hierarchy.
Lowest-level staff received 10,000 points. Enough to buy several sets of quality clothes, eat top-tier meals for months, furnish their homes comfortably, and still have some left over. Their real salary would be 20,000 points per month—steady, generous, and growing with performance.
Mid-level managers got salary around 30,000–50,000 points.
Senior directors and executives received 100,000+.
The amounts scaled with responsibility and loyalty shown during the decision process.
Currently, these points wouldn't be used much. The island was new; people were still unpacking, exploring, adjusting. But in the future, these points would be very useful. They would buy rare items, upgrades, even private training sessions once cultivation elements were slowly introduced. The system would encourage productivity, creativity, and merit—not blind handouts.
The Ether Clone stood motionless at the tower's edge, robes fluttering faintly in the controlled breeze.
He waited for the day to pass.
Tomorrow, the employees would come to work. The Free Fire server would run again— The game had now evolved.
And the people here—those who chose to stay—would become part of something far larger than a company.
He turned away from the view.
***
Next day, the employees left their houses just as the first sunrise lit the island. The buses arrived at the exact scheduled time—silent, sleek, vyuha-powered pods gliding smoothly along the paths. No honking, no rush. They simply stopped, doors opened, and people boarded without a word.
Inside the bus, Employees sat in small groups, some still rubbing sleep from their eyes, others staring out at the passing scenery—perfect lawns, blooming flowers, distant mansions identical to their own. The air inside was cool, faintly scented with citrus from hidden vents.
A man in his thirties, still adjusting his tie, broke the silence first.
"Even though everything here is amazing and perfect, I can't say the same about the education system at Academy. I asked my maid last night. She said the children won't be learning normal things. They'll be learning very different… and helpful things. She wouldn't say everything, but I can guess what she meant."
He shook his head slightly, worry creasing his brow.
"Don't know how my child will be after receiving this new education."
His friend beside him—another developer, sleeves rolled up—gave a small shrug.
"Just trust the owner. He's always surprised us, remember?"
The first man paused, then nodded slowly. His shoulders relaxed a fraction.
"Yeah… you're right."
A woman a few seats ahead turned slightly, voice low but curious.
"Hey, we don't even know the owner's name. We're just calling him 'owner.' Anyone heard his actual name?"
Heads turned. People looked at each other, searching memories from yesterday's announcement.
Silence.
A few shook their heads. No one had heard a name. Not even a hint.
Then a young engineer near the back spoke up, half-laughing.
"Let's just ask."
The bus filled with quiet agreement—nods, small smiles, a few murmured "yeah"s. The idea spread quickly. They would ask. Today. When they reached the headquarters. They deserved to know who they were following into this strange new life.
The bus continued gliding forward, carrying them toward the buil.
Outside, the island looked peaceful—identical mansions, green lawns, distant towers rising against the sky.
Inside, the employees' minds turned toward one question.
Who was he, really?
Then they saw outside the window of the bus. The bus was running even faster than a train. But nobody was surprised this time.
They had already seen things greater than this.
They saw outside the window a scenery indescribable. They had thought only one side of the island was beautiful, but no—they were wrong.
This side of the island was countless times more beautiful and amazing than the other.