I sat on the worn-out bus seat, the engine rattling as it carried me toward the outskirts of Awiebo. To anyone looking, I was just another kid in a hoodie heading home. But in my pocket, the Titan-Grip phone was buzzing with the birth of a new world order.
"Silas," I whispered into my earpiece. "I've thought about the refinery. I don't want the deed in my name. Transfer it. Fifty percent to Fedric Vance, fifty percent to Miraz Vance. They've spent their lives breaking their backs for that place. It's time they owned the air they breathe."
"Understood, Sir," Silas's voice was crisp. "I'll bury the transaction under seven layers of shell companies. To the public, the ownership hasn't changed. To the board of directors, your parents are now the ultimate authorities."
"Good. Now, about the corporation. We need a name. If I use 'Vance Group,' Ela will sniff it out in a heartbeat. She's too smart for her own good, especially with that new business sense I gave her."
I looked out the window at the passing green fields, thinking of the future.
"Call it Future Life. We'll start with three branches: Future Trust for the finances, Future Tech for the mana-research, and a parent company for her to lead. Eventually, we'll expand into Meds, Defense, and Construction. But for now, register everything under Ela Vance. She is the CEO. She is your boss."
"And what about you, Sir?" Silas asked with a hint of a smile in his voice.
"I'm just the guy who makes the coffee," I muttered. "I'm transferring 200 billion dollars to the Future Life main account. That should give her enough 'ammunition' to start her takeover."
[Ding! Transfer of $200,000,000,000.00 Successful.]
[Cashback Triggered: $2,000,000,000,000,000.00 deposited!]
I stared at the screen. Two quadrillion? I was pretty sure I now owned more money than actually existed in the world's physical supply.
"One more thing, Silas," I said, my voice turning urgent. "I'm supposed to be at the village. If Ela calls the office or checks in and finds out I'm not where I said I'd be... I'm finished. She has a way of looking at me that makes me feel like I'm five years old again."
There was a pause on the other end. I could practically hear Silas shaking his head in his billion-dollar office. "Sir... you are currently the most powerful man on the planet. You just bought a refinery and funded a global conglomerate with a thumb-tap. And yet, you fear the 'Boss Lady'?"
"You haven't seen her when she's angry, Silas," I replied grimly. "She doesn't use martial arts. She uses 'The Look.' It's much more effective."
"I will ensure your alibi remains airtight, Sir," Silas laughed. "Go enjoy the village. I'll handle the paperwork."
The bus pulled into Awiebo. The village hadn't changed—dusty roads, the smell of cheap fuel, and the distant hum of the refinery. I walked down the familiar path to our small, sagging house.
I saw my father, Fedric, sitting on the porch. He looked exhausted. His clothes were stained with oil, and his hands were trembling.
"Theon?" He stood up, squinting. "What are you doing here, son? I thought you were in the city with Ela."
"I came to help out for a week, Dad," I said, hugging him. He felt thinner than I remembered. "How's work at the refinery?"
Fedric sighed, leaning back against a wooden pillar. "The new managers are snakes, Theon. Since they found that mana-mine, they've been pushing us for eighteen-hour shifts. They treat us like we're part of the machinery. I don't know how much longer I can keep up."
Just then, a sleek black car with the refinery's logo pulled up in front of our house. A man in a cheap suit stepped out, sneering at our small home.
"Vance!" the man barked. "Why aren't you at the docks? There's a shipment of mana-ore coming in. If you're not there in ten minutes, don't bother coming back tomorrow."
My father winced, his face full of shame. "I was just taking my break, Mr. Grubbs. My son just got home—"
"I don't care about your son," Grubbs spat. "Move it, old man."
I felt a cold rage bubbling in my chest. I reached into my pocket and felt the weight of my phone.
"He's not going anywhere, Grubbs," I said, stepping forward.
"Theon, don't," my father whispered, grabbing my arm.
Grubbs laughed. "And who are you? Another mouth to feed? If your father loses this job, you'll both be begging at the Dungeon gates."
I smiled, but there was no warmth in it. Just wait, Grubbs, I thought. In about five minutes, your phone is going to ring. And your whole world is going to fall apart.