The Awakening of the Divine Power System

You Reap What You Sow

James stood calmly, brushing a speck of imaginary dust off the sleeve of his flannel shirt. Meanwhile, Adam Spencer struggled to sit up. The old man’s breathing was now perfectly steady—in fact, his chest felt clearer than it had even before the heart attack.

Miranda remained frozen, still clutching the phone she had used to try and call an ambulance. Her eyes darted from James to Adam, then back to James. "Mr. Spencer? You’re… you’re okay? How is that even possible?"

Adam didn't bother answering her. He stared at James with an intense, awestruck gaze. Having dealt with the world’s finest physicians his entire life, Adam knew that what had just happened wasn't normal. No amount of CPR or chest compressions could restore a man’s vitality that quickly from the brink of death.

"Young man..." Adam’s voice was firm now, the gravelly rasp gone. "Who… who are you exactly? I feel as if a massive weight has been lifted from my chest. The pain is completely gone."

James offered a faint, cryptic smile—one that wasn't arrogant, but suggested deep secrets. "Just a passerby who knows a thing or two about first aid, sir. You just needed some fresh air."

Miranda, realizing the danger had passed, tried to regain control to save face. "Mr. Spencer! Thank God you’re safe! This guy just got lucky. He almost killed you with that rough handling! Sir, we need to get you to the best hospital immediately. Don't listen to this… this drifter who showed up on a scooter!"

Adam Spencer turned to Miranda. The warmth he had shown James vanished, replaced by a gaze as cold as ice. "Shut your mouth!"

Miranda flinched. "But, Mr. Spencer—"

"I heard everything," Adam cut her off with the authoritative tone he usually reserved for the boardroom. "Even with my eyes closed, I caught every single insult you hurled at the man who saved my life. You judged him for his clothes? You looked down on him for his ride?"

Adam stood up straight, brushing off Miranda’s attempt to hold his arm. He walked toward James and, without hesitation, the most respected man in the city bowed deeply.

"Forgive my disrespect earlier regarding the shirt, son," Adam said sincerely. "And thank you for giving me the chance to see my grandson’s birthday. This shop is unworthy of serving someone like you, but this clerk is even more unworthy of standing here."

Adam turned back to Miranda, who was beginning to shake with terror. "Miranda, call your manager. Now. I will ensure this boutique loses every exclusive contract with the Spencer family unless you get on your knees and apologize to this gentleman right now!"

Miranda’s face went ash-gray. Losing a client like Adam Spencer meant the end for L’Elite, and for her, it meant she wouldn't just be fired—she’d be blacklisted from the entire luxury fashion industry.

"B-but sir..." Miranda stammered, tears welling up.

"Now!" Adam roared.

Her legs turning to jelly, Miranda slowly sank onto the cold marble floor. She knelt before James, bowing her head until it nearly touched his "cheap" shoes. "I-I’m sorry. I was blind. Please, forgive my insolence, sir."

Adam Spencer, fully restored by James’s mysterious energy, stepped closer. His pale face was now flushed with deep embarrassment. He grabbed the three-thousand-dollar shirt from the counter.

"Young man, please... forgive me for underestimating you earlier," Adam pleaded. "This shirt is yours, free of charge. I’ll settle the bill as a small token of my gratitude for saving my life."

James looked at Adam, smiled thinly, and shook his head. "Keep the shirt for your grandson, sir. I think I’ve lost my appetite for shopping here."

"But sir, at least let me give you something—"

"I can't," James cut him off firmly. "I’d feel guilty taking this for free. Don't worry about it. There are plenty of other shops on this street; I’ll find what I need elsewhere."

Adam Spencer wasn't about to give up. To him, a life was worth far more than a shirt. He felt an immense debt to this mysterious youth in the faded flannel. "In that case, I’m coming with you. Whatever shop you choose, let me pay for everything you buy. It’s the only way I can keep my honor."

James sighed. He knew if he kept refusing, this stubborn old man would follow him all day. To end the scene and stop the growing crowd of boutique staff from staring, James scanned the nearest rack. He picked up a pair of plain cotton socks hanging near the register.

"This is enough," James said shortly, holding up the socks. Before Adam could protest again, James had already walked out the glass doors.

Miranda and her manager—who had just rushed out from the back office after hearing the commotion—stood paralyzed at the entrance. they watched as James casually crossed the street toward a rival boutique, a fashion house just as luxurious as theirs.

A few minutes passed. From the large windows of L’Elite, Miranda witnessed a sight that made her feel like the world's biggest fool. James stepped out of the shop across the street carrying several designer shopping bags. But what stung Miranda the most was how the staff treated him. There were no judgmental glares; the saleswomen there were bowing low, greeting him with genuine warmth, and escorting him all the way to the door with sincere smiles as he headed back to his scooter.

James paused beside his scooter and pulled on his plastic helmet. He glanced back at L’Elite. Despite the distance, his "God-tier" senses allowed him to see and hear everything inside with crystalline clarity.

Miranda was standing like a statue in the middle of the room while her manager screamed in her face. The manager’s voice was high-pitched and shrill with fury.

"Do you have any idea who you just kicked out?! Even Mr. Spencer treats him with respect, and you dared to be rude?!" the manager shrieked. "You aren't just fired, Miranda! I’m going to make sure your name is recorded in every retail association as the most incompetent clerk in this city!"

James smiled thinly at the sight. Sometimes, justice was incredibly satisfying. But the smile didn't last.

Suddenly, a sharp throb hit his ears. A piercing pain followed, accompanied by a buzzing sound only he could hear. The system in his head began flashing a crimson warning.

[System Warning: Energy Imbalance Detected.]

[Urgent Requirement: Social Identity Synchronization.]

[Command: Select one Female Servant to accompany your movements immediately. Healing energy requires a female administrative medium to maintain cosmic hormonal stability.]

James groaned in irritation, clutching his ringing ears. "Again? Why does this system always demand the most ridiculous things?" he muttered angrily.