Chapter 18: The Last Card
Inside Room 808, the air was heavy with the metallic scent of blood and the stinging aroma of expensive, wasted champagne. After the manager, Mr. Dave, had fled the room in a state of primal terror, a suffocating silence descended.
Julian and his inner circle of "crooks" sat amidst the wreckage of their own making. They were motionless, their breath coming in ragged hitches. The fear Ethan had carved into them wasn't just physical; it was a psychological shockwave that was still ringing in their ears. Julian, specifically, was trapped in a loop of disbelief. He stared at the floor, unable to reconcile the image of the "Scholarship Trash" he had tripped in the hallway this afternoon with the cold-eyed predator currently standing over him.
Trying to salvage the ruins of his ego, Julian forced himself to look up. He tried to cast aside his trembling fear and meet Ethan's eyes, but the effect was ruined. The two missing front teeth created a dark, comical gap in his mouth, turning his attempt at a "brave face" into a mask of pathetic desperation.
"You... you're a dead man, McCain," Julian hissed, his words slurring and whistling through the gap in his teeth. "I promise you, by sunrise, you'll be wishing you were back in the gutter. I won't just have you kicked out of the university; I'll make sure you and your pathetic family are rotting in a cell. Even if you crawl to me right now and lick my shoes, I won't stop until you're erased!"
The humiliation Julian had endured tonight was a lethal blow to his identity. To a boy who had been told his whole life that he was a prince, being beaten by a "nobody" was a fate worse than death. He vowed in the dark corners of his mind to burn everything Ethan loved to the ground.
Ethan looked down at the fuming Julian, his heart beating with a steady, rhythmic thrum. He felt incredibly calm. His 66 Body Stat didn't just give him strength; it gave him a sense of "zen"—the world moved slower for him now, and the frantic threats of a boy like Julian felt like the buzzing of a fly.
He remembered every moment of the last three years. He remembered the shifts he worked until 3:00 AM, only to be mocked by Julian in class at 8:00 AM. He remembered the embarrassment of wearing the same worn-out sneakers while Julian bragged about his newest designer haul. The System had arrived like a silent, golden angel, finally granting him the power to tilt the axis of his world. Ethan knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn't have been able to take these drastic steps without the System; he would have been forced to endure all the humiliations Julian and the others had planned for him tonight.
"My father is the General Manager of the Golden Dragon Hotel!" Julian screamed, his voice rising in pitch as Ethan's silence unnerved him. "He has connections with the underworld and the high society of this county! He won't let a piece of trash like you walk away after laying your hands on his son!"
Ethan let out a short, cold laugh. It wasn't a sound of humor, but of pity. He looked at Julian and the groaning bodies on the floor, his eyes glowing with a sharp, sovereign light. "Julian, you keep talking about your father's power as if it's your own. Tell me... how does it feel to be on the receiving end of the stick for once? Does the floor taste as bitter as the pride you're losing?"
The crooks couldn't meet his gaze. They shifted uncomfortably, their "Alpha" status completely evaporated.
Just then, a sharp, rhythmic knock echoed through the room. A flash of hope ignited in Julian's eyes—he was certain the "cavalry" had arrived to drag Ethan to the police station.
However, when the door opened, it was only a young waiter named Tobi. He stepped inside and immediately choked on his own breath. His eyes went wide as he took in the carnage: the shattered marble, the unconscious security guards, and the bloodied faces of the county's wealthiest teens. Finally, his gaze landed on Ethan. Tobi had worked with Ethan for two years; he knew him as the "invisible man" who swallowed every insult with a polite nod. Seeing Ethan standing calmly in the center of this war zone made Tobi's head spin; he couldn't help but be completely shocked.
Clearing his throat with difficulty, Tobi spoke in a hushed tone. "Ethan... the Boss has requested your audience. In her private office. Right now."
Ethan's eyes narrowed. He knew the structure of the Red Rose. Mr. Dave was the "face," but the true owner was a woman of legendary mystery and beauty—a woman even the wealthiest guests rarely got to see. For her to call for a waiter during a shift was unheard of. He realized immediately that Dave must have run straight to her to report what had happened here.
If she wants a fight, she'll get one, Ethan thought, his hand brushing against his pocket where his phone held the power of quadrillions. If she tries to press me, I'll simply buy the entire bar and fire her by midnight.
"Fine," Ethan said simply. He adjusted his black vest, stepped over Marcus's groaning body, and followed Tobi out of the room.
The moment the door clicked shut, the tension in the room snapped. Julian and his friends began helping each other up, their faces twisted in a cocktail of physical pain and pure malice. Julian reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his fingers shaking as he dialed a number that wasn't for the police—it was for the streets.
"Yeah... it's me," Julian whispered, a ruthless, jagged smile appearing on his bloodied face as his contact picked up. "I need thirty men. Blades, pipes, whatever you've got. There's a guy at the Red Rose who thinks he's a god. I want him crippled. I want him to watch while I take everything from him."
As he hung up, Julian stared at the door, his eyes bloodshot. He didn't care about the Boss or the Bar anymore; he only cared about the sight of Ethan McCain screaming for mercy.