I Became Rich With My System

Chsoter 15

I spat blood onto the pavement, my body trembling but not giving in. The sticks came down again, cracking against my forearms, splitting skin, rattling bones. My vision was a haze of fire, but my ears—my ears caught everything.

A grunt to my left. Footsteps scuffing behind. The sharp whistle of wood before it split the air.

I ducked—barely. The stick smashed against the wall instead, splintering. I lunged forward, my fist finding ribs by instinct. The man choked on his breath and stumbled back.

Another came from the side. I pivoted blind, letting my shoulder take the hit, teeth grinding through the shock. My other hand lashed out, grabbed his collar, yanked him forward—and my forehead slammed into his nose. He crumpled, the crunch echoing like glass breaking.

Breath heaving. Blood dripping warm into my mouth.

Two more rushed me together. I heard them before I saw them. My arms shot up, catching one stick mid-swing. It rattled my bones but I held, twisting hard. The man cried out as his weapon spun from his grip. I drove my knee into his gut and sent him sprawling.

The second one swung down heavy. I shifted late—the wood tore across my back like fire. I roared through the pain, grabbed him by the wrist, twisted until I heard the snap. His scream cut through the night as he dropped.

My chest burned, lungs dragging fire in every breath.

Another came. I barely saw him, just the blur. The stick cracked my jaw, sent me spinning. I dropped to one knee, spit red pooling at my lips.

Not yet.

I pushed up, fists curling tight, and surged forward before he could swing again. My elbow smashed into his throat. He gagged, dropped his stick, clawing at his neck as I kicked his legs out.

One by one, they fell.

The last man hesitated, his breath ragged, his grip faltering. My expression must’ve said enough—rage painted in blood, eyes half-blind but burning. He swung weak. I caught it, yanked the stick from him, and drove it into his chest. He went down hard, air flying from his lungs.

Silence.

All of them lay groaning, broken on the ground. My arms hung heavy, bleeding, trembling from the effort.

From behind, I heard a sharp inhale.

Pellington.

He stood frozen by the car door, his eyes wide, lips parted like he’d just seen something crawl out of hell. His face drained pale. Then, without a word, he slipped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.

The engine roared. Tires screeched, smoke curling, and just like that—he was gone.

I stayed where I was, chest heaving, blood dripping down my temple and chin. My body screamed in pain, but somehow my legs dragged me forward. Step by step. Toward the dorms.

By the time I reached the door, exhaustion crushed me. My hand touched the knob—then my knees buckled. Darkness rushed in. The last thing I felt was the cold wood of the doorframe against my cheek.

---

When I opened my eyes again, light pressed against my lids. The ceiling above me blurred into focus.

I was in bed.

I shifted weakly and felt it immediately—someone’s presence at my side. Slowly, I turned my head.

Mia.

She sat there, her face pale, her brows drawn tight with worry.

“You’re awake…” her voice was soft, trembling with relief.

My throat was dry. “What… happened? How did I get here?”

Her eyes glistened, though she tried to keep her voice steady. “You collapsed at the door last night. That’s how I found you.”

I exhaled hard, pressing my head back against the pillow.

She studied me, her eyes trailing across the bruises, the dried blood along my arms. “Kael…” her voice cracked, “what happened? Where did you go? Did you get into another fight?”

I swallowed, my body still throbbing. “I was attacked. By Pellington.”

Her lips parted in shock. “That’s insane! You need to file a report. This kind of thing—it’s not just dangerous, Kael, it can cost you your job. Fighting, causing harm to fellow workers… it could mean termination.”

I let out a dry scoff.

Her eyes widened, confused. “What’s funny?”

I turned to her, my voice low, bitter. “Did you forget? Rules like that only apply to people like us. The workers. But Pellington? He’s Lucien’s youngest son. Tell me, Mia… do you think Lucien would ever sack his own blood?”

Her mouth opened as if to argue—but I raised a hand, cutting her off.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it. I know how to go about this.”

Silence hung heavy. Finally, she nodded faintly. “Then… at least rest. Please.”

She rose quietly, gave me one last look, then slipped out the door.

The room dimmed again. I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I dialed Jessica’s number.

It rang once. Twice. Then—click.

“Kael?”

I didn’t waste a second. “What’s going on, Jessica? I heard about Hwarthorne… that he’s dead. But last I heard, he only suffered some injuries.”

A pause. Then her voice lowered. “His death was ordered. By Milton.”

My breath caught. Anger churned in my chest. “What? Why would Milton kill his own aide?”

“You still haven’t pieced it together, Kael,” she said calmly, like it was obvious. “Hwarthorne carried out Milton’s orders to take you out. But he failed—and you knew the source. If the police dig too deep, they might trace the attack back to Milton. And Milton can’t allow loose ends.”

My jaw tightened, blood rushing in my ears. Rage boiled, hot and sharp.

Jessica’s tone shifted, almost sly. “But this… this may actually work in my favor. With Hwarthorne gone, Milton will need someone closer. Someone he trusts. This could pave the way for me to be promoted as his right aide. And if that happens…”

She let the words hang, heavy with implication.

My fists clenched around the phone, heart pounding.

I stopped in front of the motel Seraphina had told me about. The building loomed in the shadows, its neon sign flickering with the kind of glow that spoke of secrecy more than welcome. I didn’t move immediately. Instead, I stood there, watching.

People came and went in pairs. Men with women, women with men, their laughter low, their steps close together, as though the motel’s walls held something forbidden only lovers were meant to see. The security at the front door hardly blinked at them—just a nod, a glance, and they were waved through. But I could see the way their eyes scanned the crowd. Sharp. Trained. Nobody was slipping past without being noticed.

I folded my arms, taking my time, studying the rhythm of it all. Tight security. Too tight for a place that was supposed to be nothing more than a lovers’ den. My jaw clenched. Whatever Seraphina wanted me to find here, it wasn’t going to be easy.

Finally, I pushed myself forward. My boots sounded against the cracked pavement, carrying me to the entrance.

One of the guards stepped in front of me before I even touched the door. His eyes were hard, cold, sizing me up.

“Who are you looking for?” he asked, his tone flat.

I held his stare, keeping my expression unreadable. “I’m here to rent a room.”

For a moment, silence stretched. Then the guard flicked a glance at the other man beside him. They shared a look—something like amusement, maybe suspicion—and then the first guard turned back to me.

“You don’t know the rules of this place, do you?” His lip curled slightly, almost a smirk.

“What rules?” I asked, though my chest tightened.

The second guard crossed his arms. “You can’t walk in here alone. No partner, no entry. That’s how it works. So…” His eyes scanned the empty space beside me. “Where’s your partner?”

I opened my mouth, ready to come up with something—anything—but then a voice cut across the night.

“Babe!”

The sound froze me. Both guards turned their heads at once, and instinctively, I looked back too.

What I saw nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.

Mia.

She was walking toward me, her steps steady, her face calm, but there was something different about her. She looked… sharper, almost unrecognizable, like she had shed one skin for another. For a second, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me.

One of the guards squinted. “And who’s this supposed to be?”

Before I could speak, Mia reached me. Her arm slid against mine, locking her shoulder with mine in one seamless motion. She leaned into me as though the touch was natural, her body warm, familiar, but her eyes carried something else entirely.

“Can’t you really tell?” she said coolly. “This is my boyfriend.”

My eyes widened. I turned my head slightly toward her, whispering under my breath. “Mia… what are you trying to do?”

She leaned closer, her voice low, a whisper meant only for me. “Just play along if you really want to execute your plan tonight.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded, the questions piling up too fast for answers. But she didn’t give me space to protest. She tilted her chin up at the guards, her tone suddenly sharper, playful, laced with innuendo.

“Or was it when my body has lost the heat that you’ll let us through? My man and I just want to enjoy ourselves.”

Her words hung in the air, bold and unashamed. The guards looked at each other again, but this time, their expressions shifted—less suspicion, more knowing smirks.

“Fine,” one of them muttered, stepping aside. “Go on in.”

Mia didn’t wait for me to respond. She pulled me forward, dragging me past the threshold of the motel.

The motel smelled of stale cigarettes and damp carpet, the kind of place where secrets rotted faster than bread left out in the sun. I pushed the creaky door open, letting Mia slip in behind me. Her eyes darted everywhere—wide, restless, catching everything at once.

A couple of men hunched over a chipped wooden table in the corner, cards fanned out in their hands, their cigarette smoke curling like lazy ghosts toward the ceiling. A woman in a torn red dress leaned against the bar counter, tapping her chipped nails against a glass of something cheap and amber. The lights overhead flickered weakly, as though the place itself was trying to keep its eyes half shut.

Mia’s nose wrinkled. She wasn’t made for places like this. Her shoes clicked softly against the grimy tiles, and she kept adjusting the strap of her bag like it could anchor her here. She was out of place, glaringly so, and the fact she didn’t realize how much was infuriating.

I caught her wrist suddenly, tugging her toward a dim corridor at the side of the building where no one was lingering. The smell of mold was stronger here, and the single light bulb overhead buzzed like an angry insect.

I lowered my voice, my face only inches from hers.

“What the hell are you doing here, Mia?”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t look afraid. “Was it Seraphina that told me to come?” she asked softly, her tone accusing, like she’d caught me in something.

I frowned. “What—”

“If Seraphina hadn’t sent me here,” she pressed, chin tilting stubbornly, “would you really have come inside tonight, Kael?”

My jaw tightened. Her words scraped something raw in me. She didn’t understand—not any of it. “You should get out. Now.”

Her brows knitted, confusion flashing across her face. “What?”

“You’ve got no idea about the kind of danger waiting ahead,” I muttered, my voice low and sharp. “You don’t belong here. Leave, before it swallows you too.”

Her lips trembled, but not with fear—with defiance. “Why are you sending me away. I am just here to help you, I’m not blind, Kael—I know I owe you. You saved me, and this is the only way I can repay you.” Her voice cracked a little, but she stood her ground, eyes glistening. “Why can’t you see my efforts?”

I clenched my fists at my sides, holding back a surge of frustration. “Did I ask you to do anything for me?” My tone was sharper than I intended, but maybe she needed to hear it like that.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her silence louder than her words.

That’s when I heard it—the low rumble of an engine cutting across the still night. I turned my head toward the cracked window at the end of the corridor.

Headlights spilled into the lot outside, washing over the chipped paint and broken glass. A black car slid into the building’s lot, its tires crunching over gravel like bones.

My pulse kicked up.

The door opened, and from the shadows stepped a figure I knew too well. Raven.

I exhaled harshly, my voice low, almost a growl.

“Raven is here.”