The girl standing before him was a perfect example of that potential. She possessed an A-tier system known as [Mother Nature's Beloved]. Yet despite her exceptional gift, her father favored her younger brother—a boy who only had a B-tier talent—simply because of her gender.
"Why would gender matter when you clearly have a higher talent than your brother?" Vector asked with a confused look, genuinely unable to understand the logic behind it.
"My father is old school; females were not born for the heavy labor like farm work. So, even though I have a system built for the sole goal of farming, he can't grasp the idea that a female can do something that was built for males, better than a male. He thinks a woman should be used to build connections; he has been trying to get me to marry into a powerful family." She said with a sigh.
"So, you're dating yourself, killing two birds with one stone," Vector asked, to which she nodded with a light smile.
Vector could see and understand both sides to this: her father's rigid, outdated mindset, and her determination to prove her worth in her own way.
Back in China, there was once a time when families were allowed to have only one child. Under those conditions, every decision carried weight, every choice shaped the family's future. So, what was considered the better option?
A son—someone who could work the land, inherit the family farm and name, and care for his aging parents—or a daughter, who, by tradition, would eventually marry into another family and leave her parents behind?
When viewed through that old lens, the answer seemed obvious. The son was seen as the better investment—the one who would secure the family's legacy. And growing up under that mindset, it wasn't hard to see why her father refused to hand everything over to his daughter. From his perspective, why give his life's work to someone who would one day take another family's name and pass on their legacy instead of his own? Why would he hand over his business to another family?
The son was the best choice. Even if the daughter possessed greater talent, it wasn't that her father failed to see her worth—it was that she couldn't see things from his perspective. To him, it wasn't about fairness or capability, but about what would secure the family's future.
"I can understand where your father is coming from," Vector said quietly.
Her expression shifted immediately, her mood dropping at his words. She didn't like hearing that—didn't want to. Even though she knew he wasn't belittling her or taking her father's side, it still stung.
"But this isn't China, so what if you marry? Can't your father just pass the business to you while having a contract that it would stay in the family even after you get married?" Vector asked with a light smile, his tone calm but pointed.
She opened her mouth, ready to argue—ready to tell him he didn't understand—but the words caught in her throat. As much as she wanted to yell at him, she found herself stopping instead. She had never actually thought of that. The idea lingered in her mind, simple yet practical, something her frustration had blinded her from considering.
"But if your father still rejects you, come find me. I would love to build the number one food market in the world," Vector said, extending his hand toward her.
She looked at him for a moment, then smiled and reached out, shaking his hand firmly.
"How would I contact you?" she asked.
"Good question… try coming to the Lightning God Guild. I'll have Mark look out for you. If that fails, I'd probably start trying to get famous on the internet—message me there, and we can go from there," Vector said, his tone light and casual.
Before either of them could say another word, a deafening explosion tore through the air. The door to the police station blew off its hinges as the bank manager came flying through it, slamming into the wall with a heavy thud.
Smoke and dust filled the entrance as a powerful figure stepped through—Mark. His presence alone made the room tremble, and the moment the police officers saw who it was, their hands froze mid-draw. The intent to open fire vanished instantly, replaced by pure fear.
"Well, looks like I'm gone… need me to help you get out?" Vector asked, to which she shook her head, still shaken from seeing one of the strongest beings in the world in the flesh.
Vector gave a small nod before turning toward the cell door, which he opened. Without any visible effort, the door clicked and swung open, leaving everyone nearby frozen. They were certain it had been locked, yet somehow, it opened as if it were never secured in the first place.
"Sorry about this," Mark said with a sigh, his voice carrying a hint of guilt. He hadn't expected something like this to happen, not over something so trivial.
Vector simply waved his words off. With a calm flick of his wrist, a faint glow shimmered through the air. The bank manager, who had been lying on the ground bleeding and half-conscious, suddenly straightened as his wounds vanished. In an instant, he was completely restored—his body returned to peak condition, as if he had never been hurt in the first place.
"No need to apologize, plus any reasonable person would question how someone like me had suddenly gotten so much money," Vector said lightly, his tone casual, almost unconcerned.
Mark's eyes widened slightly, his usual composure faltering for a brief moment. The ease with which Vector had healed the man was unreal, far beyond what most healers were capable of.
Without saying more, he fell into step beside Vector, and the two of them made their way outside. As they stepped through the ruined doorway, Vector raised his hand once more, and in an instant, the destruction caused by Mark's earlier outburst simply vanished—walls repaired, debris gone, leaving no trace that anything had happened at all.
"…" The guild master could say nothing at this sight, standing in silence as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. He wasn't even sure if Vector had truly healed the damage or simply rewritten reality itself. Whatever it was, it left him speechless.
"W-wait!" a voice cried out from behind them.
Both men turned as the bank manager stumbled out of the police station, running toward Vector before dropping to his knees. His face was pale, his hands trembling, but his voice came out desperate and sincere.
"Mr. Vector, please forgive me for my actions! Allow me to make up for my foolishness by offering you a lifetime of premium banking privileges, which shall come with exclusive interest rates, priority access, zero fees, and a personal senior banker. I shall become your personal, dedicated private account manager available 24/7! With this, VIP lending rates on future credit lines or business financing, and more!"
The man's words tumbled out in a rush, his pride completely forgotten. He didn't care how humiliating it looked—he only cared about making amends to the man who was no normal person.
"Really? Sure, I will stop by tomorrow to talk more about it," Vector said, his tone light and casual.
The bank manager exhaled deeply in relief, his shoulders slumping as the tension left his body. He quickly bowed his head, murmuring his thanks, but Vector merely waved him off before turning and continuing down the street toward home.
"Do you need me to take you home?" Mark asked, stepping up beside him.
Vector waved his words away without slowing down. Mark opened his mouth to reply—but froze mid-sentence as Vector vanished right before his eyes. One moment he was there, the next he was gone.
Unbeknownst to Mark, Vector had quietly cast a spell. Since magic didn't officially exist in this world, he had hidden the magic circle beneath an illusion mask, keeping his use of it completely undetectable.
"He can also teleport? What system does he have?" Mark muttered to himself as he headed off, still processing everything he'd seen. Even for a guild master, the sheer mystery surrounding Vector was unsettling. Shaking his head, he disappeared into the night, returning toward the guild.
As the streets quieted, a car pulled up outside the police station. From it stepped an elderly Chinese man, his face stern and his expression heavy with concern. He walked toward the entrance with steady steps, intending to check on his daughter after hearing about the arrest.
But when he entered the room, what he saw made his face darken in rage. Standing there wasn't his daughter—it was her boyfriend. His eyes went wide in disbelief, anger beginning to rise as he prepared to lash out at the man who'd tried to assault his son's girlfriend.
Before he could speak, however, the figure before him began to change. The man's frame began to shift, bones and features rearranging until his daughter stood there once more. The old man's words caught in his throat, his mind reeling at the sight. For years, his daughter had been living under a disguise… pretending to be a man right under his nose.