The South Gate was where the service trucks entered—the lifeblood of the Academy that the students never saw. Standing by the titanium mesh fence was a man who looked like a bruise on a silk sheet. The Butcher was wearing a greasy leather coat, his knuckles scarred and thick. Two Academy guards, armed with pulse rifles, were holding him back.
"I told you, uncle," one guard sneered. "No pass, no entry. Go back to the docks."
"I'm waiting for a friend," the Butcher growled, his eyes scanning the approaching shuttle.
The shuttle hissed to a stop. Xavier stepped out. He didn't look at the Butcher first. He looked at the guards.
"Is there a problem?" Xavier asked. He adjusted his white silk gloves, his eyes narrowed in feigned annoyance.
The guards immediately straightened their posture. "Mr. Valerius! No problem, sir. This... individual claims to know you."
Xavier walked up to the fence. He looked at the Butcher as if he were looking at a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. The Butcher stared back, his eyes searching for the "rat" he knew. But he didn't find him. He saw a young man with a gaze so frozen it made the Butcher's grip on his own pocketknife loosen.
"He's my tailor's assistant," Xavier said smoothly. "I left a vintage watch in the pocket of my blazer during the fitting. He's here to return it."
Xavier reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of hundred-dollar bills—the "petty cash" the System had generated from the Cafe's profits. He slid the money through the fence.
"For your trouble," Xavier said to the guards. Then, he turned his cold eyes to the Butcher. "Give me the watch. Now."
The Butcher reached into his coat and pulled out a heavy, rusted iron key—the key to the apartment Ren used to live in. It was a silent threat. I know where you came from.
Xavier took the key, his fingers brushing against the Butcher's rough skin.
"Listen to me carefully," Xavier whispered, leaning in so close only the Butcher could hear. "I paid you. If you show up here again and risk my position, I won't just stop the payments. I will use the resources of this Academy to make sure your 'business' is erased from the map. I am not the boy who scrubbed your floors anymore. I am the man who is going to own your debt."
[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]
[ ACTION: INTIMIDATING A CRIMINAL ELEMENT ]
[ PRESTIGE GAINED: +5,000 ] [ NEW TRAIT UNLOCKED: 'IRON MASK' ]
[ EFFECT: YOUR HEART RATE WILL NO LONGER INCREASE DURING LIES. ]
The Butcher stepped back. For the first time in twenty years, he felt a flicker of genuine fear. He saw the "Sovereign Protocol" in action. The boy had evolved.
"Three years, kid," the Butcher muttered, turning away toward his rusted truck. "Don't forget who bought you those shoes."
Xavier watched him drive away. He gripped the iron key until it cut into his palm, but his face remained perfectly still. He turned back to the guards.
"Report that man for loitering," Xavier said. "If he's seen within five miles of this gate again, I'll hold the security department personally responsible for the breach of my privacy."
"Yes, sir! Immediately, Mr. Valerius!"
As Xavier walked back to the shuttle, the System screen flared.
[ MARKET UPDATE: LEE ELECTRONICS HAS DECLARED INSOLVENCY. ]
[ YOUR SHORT-SELL POSITION IS CLOSING... ]
[ TOTAL PROFIT: $42,500,000.00 ]
[ STATUS: YOU ARE NO LONGER BROKE. ]
Xavier sat down in the shuttle. He looked at the "Iron Key" in his hand, then tossed it into the lakeside bushes as they drove past. He didn't need a key to his old life. He was building a new one—out of gold and secrets.