I Became Rich With My System

Chapter 6

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed at me. “Kael… are you saying you truly know who’s behind this?”

I exhaled slowly, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know for certain. But I think Black Spire might have something to do with this.”

Her brows furrowed. “Black Spire? Are you talking about Dr. Carroway?”

“Yes.” My voice hardened. “Seraphina, you should push the government to carry out their assignment and investigate him. Don’t be deceived— He’s sharper than that, and if these weapons really came from inside…” I let the silence finish my thought.

Seraphina gave a sharp nod. “We’ll do that.”

Then her gaze softened as she turned toward Mia, who stood quietly behind me. For a long moment, Seraphina just stared at her before finally speaking. “Kael… thank you. Truly. I’m grateful for keeping Mia safe.” Her lips pressed tight as though she was forcing herself not to show too much emotion.

Then she looked straight at Mia. “You should stay with Kael for now. His side is the safest. No one will dare move against you while he’s beside you.”

Mia’s jaw tightened, her voice sharp. “Was it my father who gave the order?”

Seraphina’s expression flickered. “The president is doing everything possible to keep you safe, Mia. He—”

“I don’t need anyone to keep me safe!” Mia’s voice cracked, filled with stubbornness. “I’ll protect myself.”

Seraphina tilted her head, her voice calm but cutting. “Really? After what just happened minutes ago? Do you truly believe you can protect yourself against Kane? Against unknown snipers?”

Mia froze. The anger drained from her face, leaving only silence. She looked cornered by the truth.

Seraphina stepped closer, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. “Stay with Mr. Kael. Just for a while. Please.”

I finally spoke, my voice low but certain. “Nothing will happen to you. I promise.”

Seraphina gave me a final look, then added, “As for Kane, we’ll settle the debt. He’ll have no reason to touch you again.”

With that, Mia turned and walked away quickly.

I bowed slightly to Seraphina. “Miss Voss.” Then I hurried after Mia.

I caught up to her in the dim street, grabbing her hand gently but firmly. “Stop.”

She spun, her face angry, her lips trembling.

“Why are you like this?” I asked softly but firmly. “Didn’t you see how your father is trying to protect you? He’s not abandoning you—he’s fighting for you.”

“Protecting me?” She let out a bitter laugh as her eyes burned into mine. “Do you even know what I went through in that house? Always hidden. Always treated like a shadow. Never meant to be seen. Locked away from the world because I was born wrong!”

Her voice cracked at the end, and I saw her shoulders shake.

I stepped closer, lowering my tone. “Amanda… listen. None of that is your fault. You’re not wrong for existing. You’re not wrong for living. They can hide you, they can call you shame, but you—” I touched her arm gently “—you are not their mistake. You’re more than what they see.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She tried to hold them back, but her chest heaved as the walls she’d built crumbled.

And then she broke.

The tears spilled down her cheeks as her anger gave way to pain. I didn’t think—I just pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her as her body shook against me.

“It’s okay,” I whispered, holding her tighter. “Cry. I’ve got you.”

And for the first time, Mia didn’t resist.

By the time we reached the dorm, the streets were quiet, shadows long under the dim lamps. I stopped at Mia’s door.

“Goodnight,” I said softly, meeting her eyes.

She lingered for a moment, then gave a faint smile. “Goodnight, Kael. And… thank you. For saving me.”

I dipped my head slightly, my voice low but firm. “Sleep peacefully tonight. If there’s any problem—anything at all—call for me. I’ll be here.”

Her lips curved just a little more, almost shy, before she nodded and slipped inside.

I turned, walked into my own room, and shut the door behind me. My chest felt heavy. I pulled out my phone, the screen glowing in the dark. My thumb brushed across the picture of my wife and Liam. Their smiles frozen in the still frame, but my mind replayed yesterday’s conversation with my son.

“If I draw it… they die.”

Those words gnawed at me like broken glass. Was my son truly…? No. I couldn’t wait until morning. I had to know.

---

The Next Morning

I stood outside Aria’s house.

The door opened, and Aria stepped out, surprise flickering across her face.

“Kael? You’re here early.”

“I need to see my son,” I said simply.

Before she could reply, the door creaked again and Liam came bounding out, a toy still in his hand. He paused, then his face lit up. “Dad!”

I crouched slightly, forcing a smile. “Morning, son.”

He rushed to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. I patted his head, though my heart tightened.

Aria’s eyes searched mine. “Should I come with you?”

I shook my head. “No. Stay home. I’ll handle this.”

Her brows furrowed, sensing something uneasy in me, but she nodded slowly.

I took Liam’s small hand in mine. “Let’s go.”

Together, we walked. My steps were heavy, my grip firm but gentle around his fingers. Soon, we entered the hospital.

I approached the reception desk. “I need to see Dr. Havelock. Is he in today?”

The nurse checked a chart, then nodded. “Room 304, second floor.”

“Thank you.”

I led Liam down the hall, stopping at the room number. My hand lingered on the knob before I pushed it open.

Inside, the doctor looked up from his desk—and immediately recognized me. “Kael?” His eyes widened. “It’s really been a long time.”

I gave a faint smile. “It has.”

“I heard you were released from the hospital.”

“Yes.” My tone was clipped. I didn’t want to talk about me. “How’s work?”

“Busy as always.” He studied me, then glanced at Liam. “And this… is your son?”

I nodded.

“May I ask why you’re here?”

I inhaled deeply. “Because I need your help.”

His brows drew together. “What is it?”

My voice lowered, almost a whisper. “Do you remember the Clean Seed Project?”

The doctor stiffened immediately. “… Kael. Don’t tell me—”

“I’m afraid my son might be a victim too,” I said, my throat tight.

The doctor leaned back, his face pale. “No…”

“Yes. I haven’t confirmed it yet. That’s why I’m here.”

He rubbed his temples, then nodded slowly. “I understand. I’ll go and run the tests right away.”

He knelt down in front of Liam. “Hey, champ. Want to help me with a little game?”

Liam tilted his head, curious. “What game?”

“Just follow me, and I’ll show you.”

To my relief, Liam agreed easily, his small fingers slipping from mine as he followed the doctor into the testing room.

I stood outside the glass window, watching. The doctor spoke gently, guiding Liam through small tasks, pricking his arm, running scans. Liam behaved perfectly, answering questions. But the unease in my chest never faded.

Hours passed. I sat in the waiting chair, the clock ticking like a hammer in my head.

Finally—after nearly three hours—the doctor emerged, holding a file, his expression grave.

I rose instantly. “Well?”

He met my eyes. “Kael… we ran every test. The results are clear.”

A beat of silence. My heart felt like it stopped.

“Your son, Liam, is actually…”

“Kael,” he said, carefully but firmly, “your son is not a psychopath. Liam is clean—his brain scans are sharp, healthy, and his cognitive responses are even above average.”

For a moment, I just stared at him, the words refusing to sink in. Not… a psychopath?

He continued, flipping through the file. “There’s no trace of the Clean Seed mutation. His brain is sharp—very sharp, Kael. He’s not carrying that demon gene. He’s free.”

A breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding burst from my chest. My shoulders sagged as relief washed through me like warm rain. My boy was safe.

I lowered my head, muttering, “Thank you, Havelock. Thank you…”

The doctor studied me for a moment, then asked, “Kael, what made you think Liam was… like that?”

I rubbed my face, tired. “His actions. Strange drawings, his words, the way he looks at people sometimes. It reminded me too much of the carriers we used to hunt. I thought… maybe he was one of them.”

Havelock leaned forward, voice steady. “Children act strangely when they feel isolated, Kael. What Liam needs isn’t suspicion—it’s patience. Get him involved in activities, and sometimes give him some positive outlets for that sharp brain of his. And most of all, make sure he feels safe with you. That matters more than anything else.”

I nodded slowly, the weight in my chest lightening. “I’ll do that. Thank you, doctor.”

I lifted Liam into my arms, holding him close.

As I turned to leave, Havelock called out, “Kael.”

I stopped, turned back. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?” he asked, eyes narrowing with concern.

I managed a small, tired smile. “I’m much better now.”

With that, I carried my boy out into the light.

---

The city streets were waking as we walked side by side. Liam was quiet, his small hand swinging in mine. But then he stopped abruptly in front of a toy store.

I followed his gaze—he was staring at a model airplane, painted in silver and blue, hanging just above the shelf.

I crouched down beside him. “Do you want that one?”

He hesitated, then nodded once, eyes never leaving the plane.

I checked my wallet. Not much left. Still, I took his hand. “Come on, let’s get it.”

Inside, while I counted the bills, a little girl’s voice cut through the air.

“Mommy, that’s the monster!”

I froze. My jaw tightened.

The girl’s mother quickly pushed her, pulling her close. “Don’t say that! Apologize to him right now.”

But the girl resisted. Instead, she pointed at Liam. “It’s true! He’s the monster from school! Nobody likes him because he’s scary!”

My gaze flicked to Liam. He didn’t even flinch. He simply picked the toy plane from the shelf, walked back to me, and handed it over. His small, calm face broke my heart.

I paid quickly, ignoring the awkward silence around us. Outside, I looked down at my son, who clutched his plane tightly, his steps light as if nothing had happened.

He didn’t care. Or maybe… he had stopped caring.

---

At the restaurant, I ordered him sweet-and-sour chicken with fried rice, and dumplings on the side. He dug in happily, humming softly, the earlier insult never crossing his face.

But I couldn’t stop watching him. The way he brushed things off so easily, like none of it mattered… it worried me.

“Liam,” I asked gently, “doesn’t it bother you? What that girl said?”

He shook his head, chewing. “No.”

“No?” I pressed.

He swallowed, then looked up at me. “They never want to play with me anyway. They call me monster. They say I’m weird. So… I don’t care. I don’t like playing with them either.”

My chest tightened. “And you’re not mad about that?”

Again, he shook his head. “No.”

I forced a small smile and patted his head. “Alright. Keep eating.”

He grinned faintly and lifted his chopsticks. But just as he was about to take another bite, the door to the restaurant opened.

A man stepped in, carrying a worn duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His clothes were rugged, mismatched—too many layers for the weather. His eyes scanned the room, sharp and restless.

I could already sense danger.

I tensed, watching him carefully.

But then Liam tugged at my sleeve, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Dad, can you open this for me?”

I tore my eyes from the man, forced my hands steady, and twisted the cap loose.

I handed the bottle back to Liam. His small hands gripped it carefully, and he tilted it back, drinking like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. For a moment, I just watched him—watched the way his throat bobbed, the way his eyes closed in satisfaction. I felt the pride of being a father.

And then the screaming began.

The man from earlier had pulled a gun from his duffel. The crack of gunfire ripped through the restaurant, shattering glass, tearing into tables. People ran in every direction, shrieking, plates crashing to the floor.

“Down!” I growled, scooping Liam into my arms and diving under a wooden bench. The boy clung to me, his small body trembling as I shielded him with my own.

Bullets sprayed across the restaurant, splintering chairs, hammering against the walls. The shooter’s eyes locked onto us, and he fired relentlessly, forcing me to press Liam tighter into my chest. I couldn’t even breathe—I just took a shield.

The clicks came next. The sound of his empty magazine.

I looked up—his gun was dry. My hand darted out, snatching a glass bottle from the floor. I rose halfway and hurled it at him. He dodged, snarling, and ripped a knife from his belt, charging straight at me.

I pushed Liam further beneath the bench. “Stay down, son!”

Then I met the man head-on.

The clash was violent, raw. His blade slashed at me, each strike meant to kill. I blocked with my forearm, pain lancing through me, then countered with a flurry of punches. He was strong, desperate—but not trained like me.

I caught his arm mid-swing, twisted, and drove my fist into his face. I heard the sound of his bone crunched, then the blood sprayed. His body collapsed under the blow, and he stumbled back, dazed.

But instead of fleeing, he fumbled at his waist and yanked out a hidden pistol. His shaking hand lifted it toward me.

“No—”

I surged forward, my knuckles slamming into his jaw with a brutal crack. His body went limp, eyes rolling back. The pistol clattered from his grip as he fell lifeless to the ground.

For a heartbeat, all I heard was my own ragged breathing.

Liam.

I spun, racing back to the bench. My heart froze.

He was lying there. My boy.

A dark pool spread beneath his head, his forehead split by a small, red hole. Blood streamed down his pale face.

“No…” My voice broke, every organ in my body ceasing to function. My knees buckled as I collapsed beside him. “Liam! Liam, no—”

His little chest still moved. Weak. Shallow. His eyes fluttered open, glassy and scared.

“Dad…” he whispered, his voice cracked. “Am I… going to die?”

Tears blurred my sight. I gathered him into my arms, rocking him, clutching his small body as if my grip alone could keep his soul tethered. “No, no, no—you won’t. You hear me? You won’t! Daddy’s here. You’re going to be fine.”

His blood seeped through my shirt, hot and sticky.

“Help!” I roared, my voice raw, breaking. “Somebody help!”

People stood frozen, gawking. Some backed away, afraid. None came forward. My sobs tore through me.

Sirens wailed outside. Red and blue lights cut through the glass. Police stormed in, weapons drawn, scanning the scene. One officer spotted me and my bleeding son.

“Over here!” he barked. “Get the emergency team in—now!”

Paramedics rushed in, their voices urgent, their hands already working. “We’ve got a child, gunshot wound to the head!”

“No—don’t take him!” I clutched tighter.

“Sir, we need to work!” one paramedic snapped, prying Liam from my arms. Tubes and bandages covered my son as they lowered him onto a stretcher. His eyes rolled weakly toward me. I kept pace beside them as they wheeled him into the flashing ambulance.

I climbed in after him, my clothes soaked with his blood. My hands trembled, dripping crimson onto the floor.

At the hospital, the doors burst open. Nurses and doctors swarmed, rushing him down corridors, shouting codes I couldn’t understand. They pushed him into the ICU, the doors slamming shut in my face.

I stood there, frozen, staring at my palms covered in my son’s life. My knees weakened, but I held myself against the wall.

Minutes felt like years.

Then—“Kael!”

I turned. My breath caught.

Aria.

She was running toward me, her hair wild, her face pale. She stopped when she saw the blood staining me, her hands flying to her mouth. Her whole body shook.

“What—” her voice cracked, breaking into sobs. “What happened to my son?”

I tried to steady her, reaching out, but she pushed past me, pounding on the ICU doors. Her scream tore through the hospital halls. “What happened to Liam? What happened to my baby!”

“Aria—please—” My voice wavered as I pulled her back. “You need to calm down—”

But she collapsed to her knees, sobbing, clutching her chest as if her heart had been ripped apart.

I dropped beside her, wrapping my arms around her trembling frame. “We’ll get him through this,” I whispered, my own tears blurring everything. “We have to…”