Phantom Hands Under the Titan Shield

“Sign now, Lucas. Don't make us waste any more time looking at trash like you!” Marcus Vance's voice echoed loudly off the walls of the expensive sandalwood-scented office. Elara's uncle stood arrogantly, arms crossed in front of his chest, staring intently at the young man sitting calmly in front of him. I glanced at the gold pen lying on top of the marriage documents. My fingers felt strange. Usually, my palms held control over trillions of dollars in assets or the world's most precise surgical instruments. Now, my wrist felt light—too light—without the custom watch that usually circled it. The shabby suit I was wearing felt itchy against my skin, a remnant of the ‘normal’ life I had to live for the sake of a promise I made to Grandfather Edward in the past. “I told you, Uncle, he doesn't even dare to look us in the eye,” hissed a woman at the table. Elara Vance. The CEO of VanceTech looked stunning in her stiff white business suit. Her beauty was cold, like crystal ready to hurt anyone who touched it. “He's just a lucky homeless man my grandfather found on the street. And now, he will be a disgrace in my country's documents.” I raised my head, staring into Elara's hateful eyes. “This contract... is a little one-sided, isn't it?” Marcus laughed loudly. His voice was hoarse and dismissive. “Unfair? You should be grateful that the Vance name will be attached to yours, Lucas! Who do you think you are? The dust on our shoes is too valuable to be compared to you.” I read clause five in my mind. Clause 5: The Second Party (Lucas Cole) is not entitled to a single cent of the Vance family's assets, either during the marriage or after divorce. All forms of child support will be provided in accordance with the minimum wage standard for manual laborers. Unskilled labor? If I called my international bank manager right now, my personal assets could buy ten companies like VanceTech in the blink of an eye, I thought flatly. However, the image of Grandfather Edward lying weak in his hospital bed held me back. The old man had saved me when I was nearly killed on the genetic battlefield ten years ago. This was the price I had to pay. “Well?” Elara asked, tapping the tip of her thousand-dollar shoes impatiently on the marble floor. “Or do you want me to call the police and report you for attempted extortion?” “I don't need your wealth,” I said calmly, almost too calmly, causing Elara's eyebrows to knit together. I grabbed the gold pen and signed my name with a flourish. A signature that, in the outside world, was worth more than just a marriage contract—it was the signature of the ‘Ghost Hand’. “Good,” Marcus snatched the document, his eyes gleaming greedily. "Now you are officially a parasite in this family. Remember your place. You are nothing more than a legal shield to quell the Elara stock scandal. Don't expect to touch my niece, let alone sleep in the same room with her.“ Elara turned her face away, as if looking at me was a great sin to her sense of sight. ”He will stay in the back warehouse, Uncle. I don't want his smell contaminating the upper floor." I stood up, straightening my cheap cotton shirt, which was starting to yellow around the collar. “Are we done?” “Not yet,” Elara stood up and walked closer, the scent of her rose perfume assaulting my sense of smell. Her eyes flashed with haughty triumph. “The Vance family doesn't feed people who just lie around like corpses. Do you want dinner tonight? You have to work.” I raised an eyebrow. “Work?” “The logistics division needs an additional courier to deliver important files between departments. The Titan Shield is in a crucial phase, and I don't need unemployed people in my house,” Elara threw a cheap plastic ID badge at my chest. "Welcome to VanceTech, messenger. Starting tomorrow, you'll be running to pay for the rice you eat.“ Marcus laughed amusedly, holding his stomach. ”It's a perfect fit! A lowly courier for the Vance family's son-in-law. Make sure you don't get lost in the elevator, kid. Dust like you is easily blown away by the wind." I stared at the badge that read ‘Lucas Cole - Logistics Intern’ in my hand. It felt ironic because I was actually the hidden architect of the security protocol they called ‘Titan’. “All right, my wife,” I said with a slight emphasis on the last word. Elara shuddered in disgust when she heard that word come out of my mouth. I stepped out of the room calmly, ignoring Marcus's condescending laughter that continued to echo. As the large wooden door closed, I reached into my torn pants pocket and pulled out a small black coin engraved with a dragon wrapped around a planet. The symbol of the Nexus Group's absolute power. As I walked through the luxurious lobby of VanceTech, my eyes caught a strange movement in the corner of the building—two men in black suits without company logos, whispering something in the direction of the main server room. Their movements were too practiced to be mere security staff. Is that so? Even on my first day as ‘trash’, these wolves have already begun to gnaw at the foundations of your house, Elara, I thought to myself. My steps halted when my old cell phone vibrated violently. A short message appeared on the cracked screen: “My lord, the Phantom virus has entered the VanceTech perimeter. We await orders to destroy.” I stared at the elevator door where Elara had just disappeared. The girl didn't know that right now, the fate of her entire kingdom depended on the signature of the ‘dust courier’ she had just insulted.