Chapter 4: Last Resort

"I wish we had married our daughter to that man. We'd all be living in a mansion right now. Instead, we are being screamed at by a petty, good-for-nothing son-in-law!"

"Leave my house, Victor," Roland said with finality. "Not only did you insult an honored guest, but you also attacked my son. Leave before I call the cops!"

Victor's mind was reeling, and his in-laws' insults gave him acid reflux. He had to escape the toxic environment before he did something terrible. He cast a sideways glance at his wife and rushed out of the house.

'I need to get the fee for grandpa's surgery somehow,' he thought, walking down the street. 'Perhaps I can borrow the amount.'

Victor placed a call to his paternal uncle, George Damone. "Uncle, please help. I need six hundred thousand urgently for grandpa's treatment. Could you loan me the money, please?"

He heard a high-pitched female voice from the other end. He recognized the voice as his aunt-in-law. "We don't have that kind of money!" she spat with contempt. "Especially for that old fart! He can die and stop being such a burden to everyone!"

The call disconnected.

Victor let out a cry of exasperation.

George's wife despised the Damone family. At least whatever was left of it. Old man Edgar Damone's company used to be profitable. He had two sons and a daughter who invested proportionately with their disposable income. When Victor's parents died in a car accident, Uncle George withdrew investment from the company following his scornful wife's advice.

Edgar suffered a stroke right afterward, leading to the company's downward spiral. George's wife did not let him visit his father on his deathbed.

Victor was desperate but wouldn't give up. He called all his friends and coworkers, wandering the streets while he made the calls.

However, all was in vain. Nobody could come up with six hundred thousand dollars at such short notice. His friend, Dave, offered ten thousand dollars, a drop in the sea. Victor disconnected the last call and sighed, looking blankly at the setting sun.

Just then, a vehicle approached him from ahead, and headlights blinded him. A Ferrari screeched to a halt along the curb.

"Hey, Victor?" James called out through a half-lowered window. "Seems like being out on the streets suits you. Anyway, normally, I wouldn't talk to a peasant like you. But I am willing to help you with your grandfather's treatment."

Victor raised an eyebrow. "What do you want in return?"

The billionaire put on a wicked smile. "You know what I want..."

"No…"

James' expression was smug. "Yes, it is exactly what you think. I want you to divorce Carol and let her marry me. If you file for divorce today, I'll take care of the entire treatment of your grandfather. And tell you what, you can use my family attorney for the proceedings, free of charge."

"I'll also throw in an extra five hundred thousand so that you can get back on your feet. How does that sound? This is a life-changing opportunity for you."

Anger flashed across Victor's face. "How dare you, you snake! Stay away from my wife, you hyena! I don't want your dirty money!" He rushed at the Ferrari, intending to smash in the windows, but the driver floored the accelerator. Victor chased the vehicle for a few yards in outrage.

"Now, you look like a proper dog chasing cars!" James shouted from the speeding Ferrari.

Victor grimaced. It had taken him two years to gather eight hundred thousand dollars, working all kinds of jobs while taking care of Edgar.

Josh looted and splurged the entire amount in a day. After swindling him of his life savings, his in-laws even took the opportunity to humiliate him. Adding insult to injury, they had arranged for a spoiled billionaire to steal his wife!

This wasn't the life he imagined leading after he retired from his old position. Did the people around him even realize who he really was?

Anger welled up in Victor. Enough was enough!

"All I wanted was to live like a regular Joe! I was done with the high-stakes life of the past! What is the point of hiding in this city when everything else is falling apart around me? When I can't even help my own grandfather survive? When brats and simpletons and inferior men are spitting on my face?"

Victor's expression changed abruptly. He became grim and reserved. It was as if the aura around him had suddenly transformed. He removed his wallet and extracted a card lodged in a secret pocket.

Victor flipped over the card and dialed a ten-digit number embossed on it.

There was a single ring, after which an authoritative voice picked up the call.

"This is the New World Order. What is your age and legend code?"

Victor repeated a set of numbers and letters he had first memorized six years back. "Age 28… Legend code is… A-4-4-5-9-I-#-E-7-7-7-8."

He could hear typing on the other end, after which the voice replied, "The legend code is confirmed. I cannot believe it. Is that you really, Caesar?"

Victor took a deep breath. It was two years since he had been addressed by that name. It was less of a name and more of a rank. "I want my crown back," he said.

There was a sharp exhalation on the other end of the call. After a short pause, the authoritative voice posed, "Are you sure about that, Caesar? You had deactivated your position temporarily of your own accord for privacy. The activation will be permanent this time, and everyone in the organization will be made aware of your return. There's no going back."

The voice was barely holding back excitement.

Victor exhaled. He was going to step into a chaotic world again. But he had no other choice. "I am positive. Initiate."

"Alright."

A series of beeps sounded, after which the voice returned. "Your Level 1 Access is activated, Emperor Caesar. Welcome back to the New World Order."

The call got disconnected immediately.