Stripped of everything, Sophia Quinn collapsed onto the cold marble floor, her shoulders trembling as sobs tore through her chest. Her makeup had long since been ruined, tears streaking down her face while her hair hung in disarray. The once-proud heiress now looked no different from someone who had lost everything overnight, her dignity shattered in front of everyone present.
Ryan Hale stood a short distance away, his face pale and his expression conflicted. There was no anger in his eyes—only hesitation, almost pity, as he looked at the Quinn family. Even after everything, even after years of being treated like a fool, he still couldn't bring himself to hate them completely.
"…That's enough, Dad," Ryan said weakly, his voice lacking conviction.
Victor Hale didn't even look at him. He already knew his son wouldn't change overnight. Years of blind devotion couldn't be erased in a single moment. There was no need to waste words.
Instead, Victor continued calmly, "Mr. Foster."
He turned slightly toward the exit, his tone indifferent. "Bring out my birthday gift." After a brief pause, he added, "Even if the engagement is canceled, today is still Old Master Quinn's birthday. Proper etiquette must be observed."
The moment those words were spoken, a faint hope appeared in the eyes of the Quinn family. At a time like this, a gift could only mean one thing—or so they desperately wanted to believe.
Sophia slowly lifted her tear-filled eyes, clutching onto that fragile possibility.
Then heavy footsteps echoed through the hall.
Several bodyguards entered, carrying a massive object covered with a thick red cloth. Its size alone made it imposing, and when it was placed at the center of the hall with a loud "bang," the sound reverberated through everyone's chest.
Chairman Quinn forced himself to stand, his legs trembling. "Chairman Hale… what is this?" he asked, his voice filled with unease and anticipation.
Victor didn't turn around. He simply snapped his fingers. "Open it."
The red cloth was pulled away in one swift motion.
A blinding golden glow burst into the room.
For a moment, everyone squinted, unable to see clearly. But when their vision adjusted, silence fell completely.
It was a bell.
A massive bell, forged entirely from gold, standing proudly under the chandelier. Its polished surface reflected every broken expression in the room.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The faint sound echoed in the deadly silence.
In that instant, everyone understood.
This was not a gift.
It was a curse.
"Ah—!" Sophia's aunt screamed before collapsing unconscious on the spot.
Chairman Quinn staggered backward, clutching his chest as his fingers trembled uncontrollably. "Y-you… you…" he stammered, unable to finish his sentence.
An eightieth birthday.
And a bell.
It was a countdown to death.
Victor finally turned around. His gaze swept across their pale, terrified faces, and a faint, cold smile appeared on his lips.
"Pure gold," he said calmly. "Two hundred kilograms." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Consider it the last dignity I'm giving your family."
The ticking sound seemed louder now, each second pressing down like invisible weight.
"Listen carefully," Victor continued, his voice low and emotionless. "Count every second. Those are the remaining days of the Quinn family."
No one dared to speak.
No one even dared to breathe.
Without another word, Victor turned and walked out.
Behind him, Mr. Foster's voice rang out clearly, "The Hale family presents the Quinn family with a golden bell." He paused briefly before adding coldly, "Congratulations on your peaceful demise."
---
Outside, a line of black luxury cars stretched across the street like a silent procession. Engines started, doors shut, and within moments, the convoy disappeared into the night, leaving behind nothing but silence and ruin.
Inside the Quinn estate, the silence finally broke.
Wails echoed through the hall, followed by screams and cries of despair. The once-grand banquet had turned into something far worse—a funeral without a body.
---
Inside the Rolls-Royce Phantom, Victor sat in the back seat with his eyes closed, his expression calm as if nothing had happened. The car moved smoothly through the city, but the atmosphere inside was suffocating.
Ryan sat in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, yet his body trembled uncontrollably. His breathing was uneven as he stole glances at his father. The more he looked, the more uneasy he became.
This version of Victor was unfamiliar.
The indulgent father he once knew was gone.
In his place was someone who could destroy an entire family without raising his voice.
Ryan swallowed hard, his mind replaying everything—the fall of Lucas Reed, Sophia's tears, the golden bell. Every scene weighed heavily on him.
"What?" Victor suddenly said.
Ryan flinched, startled.
Victor hadn't even opened his eyes, yet it felt as though he could see everything.
"Feeling sorry for them?" Victor asked calmly.
"N-no," Ryan replied quickly, shaking his head. "Dad, you did the right thing. The Quinn family… they're ungrateful. Sophia… she…" His voice faltered as pain flickered across his face. "I treated her so well, but she never cared… not even once… only for Lucas…"
Victor slowly opened his eyes, his gaze cold. "If you can understand that much," he said flatly, "then that money wasn't wasted."
Ryan stiffened.
"Starting tomorrow," Victor continued, "you'll spend a month at the grassroots level. No privileges." He paused before adding coldly, "If I see you acting like a fool again, I'll break your legs."
Ryan's face went pale. "Yes… Dad. I understand. I'll change."
This time, he meant it.
Because now—
He was afraid.
Victor closed his eyes again, turning slightly toward the window as the city lights passed by.
Ryan was no longer the main concern.
The real problem still remained.
---
Ding.
A mechanical voice echoed in Victor's mind.
[Congratulations, Host. You have successfully suppressed Lucas Reed and disrupted his destined rise.]
[His reputation has declined. The Quinn family has begun distancing themselves from him.]
[Luck value decreased by 300.]
[Mission complete. Rewards granted.]
A cool sensation flowed into Victor's eyes. For a brief moment, his vision blurred, then sharpened beyond normal limits. He could see even the smallest details, from drifting dust particles to subtle fluctuations in the surrounding environment.
When he turned his gaze toward the distant Quinn estate, his expression changed slightly.
A thick black aura hovered above it, dense and oppressive, like a storm waiting to descend.
Yet within that darkness, a faint golden light still flickered.
Victor narrowed his eyes.
A translucent panel appeared before him.
Name: Lucas Reed
Identity: Child of Destiny (Damaged)
Luck Value: 700/1000 (Declining)
Strength: Peak Human Limit
Abilities: Ancient Medical Arts (Fragment), Enhanced Perception (Unawakened)
Status: Rage, hatred, self-doubt
Weakness: Unstable condition; requires rare compatibility to stabilize, failure will lead to collapse
Victor's lips curved slightly.
"So that's how it is…" he murmured.
Everything made sense now—Lucas's obsession, his recklessness, his desperation.
It wasn't just arrogance.
It was survival.
Victor tapped his finger lightly against his knee, his voice barely audible. "Interesting."
Leaning back, he closed his eyes halfway. "If that ability hasn't awakened yet…" he said softly, "…then it never will."
Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of gold and white.
Inside the car, silence returned.
Far behind them, inside the ruined estate—
The golden bell continued to echo.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Counting down the fall of a family.
And the slow collapse—
Of a chosen one.