Chapter 25 Frantic Call, Run
The silence in the Dean's office was no longer the quiet of a library; it was the suffocating, heavy silence that precedes a tectonic shift. Mr. Smith stood in the center of the room, his legs feeling like they were made of water. The luxurious scent of the Dean's expensive pipe tobacco, which usually smelled of prestige and power, now felt like the cloying scent of a funeral parlor. He looked at the mahogany walls, the silver trophies, and the framed degrees, and for the first time in his career, they felt like they were closing in on him.
Ethan watched him with the detached curiosity of a god. With his Mind at Peak Level 1, he could see the minute twitch in Smith's left eyelid and the way the man's jugular vein throbbed with every panicked heartbeat. The "Ghost" was enjoying the view.
"You mentioned accusations, Mr. Smith," Ethan said, his voice cutting through the tension like a chilled blade. He set his teacup down on the black walnut desk with a deliberate, echoing thud. "I believe you were quite vocal about my 'suspicious activities.' Please, don't let my presence stop you. I'd love to hear more about how I'm wasting the school's resources."
Smith opened his mouth, but only a dry, croaking sound came out. He looked at Dean Thompson, desperate for a lifeline, but the Dean was busy staring at the golden light reflecting off the obsidian tablet. Thompson's allegiance had been bought and paid for with a sum that could rebuild the city, let alone the university.
"I... I was only acting in the best interest of the department," Smith stammered, his fingers frantically twisting the hem of his tweed jacket. "The reports... they came from reliable sources. Julian mentioned—"
"Julian?" Dean Thompson's voice was a low growl that vibrated through the floorboards. He looked up, his eyes flashing with a cold, administrative fury. "So, a student dictates the disciplinary actions of this faculty now? You've turned my university into a playground for the Julian family's personal vendettas?"
"No! Sir, that's not what I—"
"It's exactly what you did," Ethan interrupted, standing up slowly.
As Ethan rose, his presence seemed to fill the room, dwarfing the Dean's massive desk and making the high ceilings feel low. He walked toward the window, looking out over the sprawling campus. From this height, the students below looked like ants, scurrying between the neo-Gothic buildings and the modern glass lecture halls.
"The South River University prestige," Ethan murmured, almost to himself. "Built on the sweat of scholars and the dreams of the underprivileged. And yet, beneath the ivy and the stone, there's a layer of rot. A layer where a man like you, Smith, can be bought for the price of a mid-range sedan."
Ethan turned back to face the room. "I told the Dean I wanted to clean this house. I think we should start with your office, Smith. I imagine if we looked into your personal bank accounts, we'd find a very interesting deposit from the Julian estate. Or perhaps we'd find the records of other scholarships you've 'revoked' to make room for the children of Julian's business partners."
Smith's face went from pale to a ghostly, translucent white. The cold sweat was now a visible sheen on his forehead. "You can't... you have no right to my private records!"
"In a world of ghosts, Smith, there are no secrets," Ethan said. He turned to Thompson. "Dean, I believe the transition of the first 100 million dollars for the 'Sovereign Excellence Fund' is pending your signature on the ethics reform charter. Part of that charter includes the immediate termination and blacklisting of any faculty member found taking external 'incentives.'"
Thompson didn't hesitate. He grabbed a heavy, gold-nibbed fountain pen and signed the document on his desk with a flourish of ink. "Mr. Smith, you are no longer a member of this faculty. You are stripped of your tenure, your pension is frozen pending a full forensic audit, and you are barred from entering any academic institution affiliated with the South River Board."
The words hit Smith like a physical blow. He staggered back, his hip catching the corner of a trophy case. The silver cups inside rattled—a hollow, metallic sound that signaled the end of his social standing. Everything he had worked for, every bit of petty power he had hoarded, was gone in the span of ten minutes.
"You're ruining me," Smith whispered, his voice trembling. "For a scholarship student? You're destroying a career for him?"
Ethan walked over to him, stopping just inches away. To the Deam, it looked like a simple confrontation. To Ethan, it was a moment of absolute clarity. He could see the fear in Smith's eyes, and behind it, the realization that the "bug" he had tried to crush was actually the foot of a giant.
"I'm not ruining you, Smith," Ethan said, his voice a soft, terrifying whisper that only the lecturer could hear. "I'm simply correcting a mistake in the System. You were a glitch. And I have the power to delete glitches."
Ethan leaned in closer. "Tell Julian when you see him... tell him the Ghost says thank you. If he hadn't pushed so hard, I might have stayed in the shadows a little longer. But now? Now I own the shadows. And I'm coming for the light too."
Ethan stepped back and signaled to the door. "Dean, have security escort this man out. I believe he has a lot of phone calls to make, though I doubt Julian picks up the phone for 'failures.'"
Thompson pressed a button on his desk. Within seconds, two burly security guards in dark blazers appeared at the door. They didn't treat Smith with the respect usually afforded to a professor. They grabbed him by the arms, their grip firm amd unforgiving.
As Smith was dragged out of the office, his feet scuffing against the expensive Persian rug, he looked back one last time. He saw Ethan McCain sitting back down in the guest chair, casually picking up his teacup as if he hadn't just ended a man's life.
The doors clicked shut, leaving the office in a state of sudden, ringing quiet.
"Now," Ethan said, turning his gaze back to the Dean, his eyes cold and businesslike. "About those three new research buildings. I want to know the site they will be built on by the end of the week. And I want the Biotech wing named after someone... someone who actually knows the value of a scholarship."
Dean Thompson nodded, his pen already moving across the next set of papers. He was a man of ambition, and he knew that as long as he followed the Ethan 's lead, he would be the head of the most powerful university the country.
Ethan looked back out the window, he was thinking to himself the system won't award points for donations but only award points on things bought, he was thinking to himself its probably high time i start the black global holdings, that way i can get lots of system point and also but a good reputation for Black Global Holdings. The first 100 million is meant for the scholarship fund but the construction of the three buildings will be handled by black global holdings, that way I can get system points and a reputation.
He took out his phone about to make a call, only to receive one from Leo, he was about greeting him only to hear a frantic voice from the other end of the call'Ethan...run ... Julian is on his way to you, run. He didn't even get to say any other words before the call got disconnected.