The sky over Jianghai wasn't just crying, it was shrieking. Rain hammered the streets, sharp and cold, the kind that stings your face and soaks you to the bone. But honestly, that was nothing compared to what Ye Chen felt twisting inside him.
He staggered away from the Su Villa's iron gates. When they slammed shut behind him, it sounded like a prison door locking tight, and after three years trapped there, it might as well have been. Three years of being the "trash son-in-law," the invisible servant, the guy who cooked, cleaned, and swallowed every insult the Su family threw at him. But tonight hit different. Tonight, the cruelty had a new face, Zhao Wei.
Ye Chen couldn't shake the image of Su Yan's face, streaked with tears, her skin ghost-pale with fear. Zhao Wei stood right next to her, his hand clamped on her shoulder, grinning like a shark that smelled blood.
"You're a ghost, Ye Chen," Zhao Wei's voice echoed in Ye Chen's head. "And ghosts don't get to keep beautiful things."
Ye Chen dug into his soaked pocket, hands shaking, and pulled out his old, battered phone. It was ancient, a cheap relic from ten years ago. But it was all he had left from his mother, the last link before the powerful Ye Family in the capital threw him out like garbage.
Then, everything exploded in white.
Two headlights sliced through the rain, blinding him. Tires screeched on the slick road. A black armored SUV fishtailed to a stop, spraying filthy water all over Ye Chen's already-drenched clothes.
The doors swung open. Three men climbed out, hulking shadows against the glare. At the front stood Tiger, Zhao Wei's enforcer. He looked massive, his face mapped with scars, his hands huge and battered from years of breaking people.
"Young Master Zhao's a sentimental guy," Tiger rumbled, voice low and rough, almost rattling the rain itself. He cracked his neck, loud enough to hear over the thunder. "He noticed you're still clinging to your wedding ring. He thinks you're a stain on his city."
"I've already left," Ye Chen said, voice raw. "What else do you want?"
Tiger's eyes flashed. "We want you to remember tonight. Not as a man but as a dog."
Ye Chen never stood a chance. He was half-starved, drained, and running on empty. Tiger's fist slammed into his gut, folding him up. Before he could catch his breath, someone yanked him by the collar and smashed him against a wall.
They didn't rush. This wasn't some wild street fight, they were taking him apart, piece by piece. One guy pinned his arms, another kicked his ribs. The thuds of boots on bone mixed with the endless drumming rain.
Tiger stepped in, dug through Ye Chen's pocket, and held up the phone.
"This it?" Tiger sneered, waving it under the light. "Ye Chen's precious treasure? This thing's older than I am in this business."
He tossed the phone into a muddy puddle. Then he pressed his boot down, slow and deliberate. Glass and plastic crunched, the sound sharp and final. Tiger twisted his boot, grinding it into the blacktop.
"There," he whispered in Ye Chen's ear, voice cold as the rain. "Now you're as broken as your junk phone. If you're still here by sunrise, we won't just smash your toys. We'll smash your legs."
They climbed into the SUV, slammed the doors, and roared off, leaving Ye Chen sprawled in the gutter, blood and rain swirling around him.
He didn't move for a long time. Just lay there, staring at the swirling oil on the puddle's surface. Finally, with a rough, painful groan, he dragged himself over to the shattered phone.
The screen was shattered, casing bent. But when Ye Chen pried off the back, he saw it, a tiny, glinting object hidden deep inside a tough compartment behind the battery.
The Golden SIM Card.
Forged from a gold alloy, its surface etched with impossibly fine circuitry, the best encryption tech on the planet. Ten years ago, his dying grandfather, the Ye Clan Patriarch, had pressed it into his hand.
"Chen'er," the old man whispered. "People think we're just a family. They have no idea. We're an empire of shadows. Use this only when you're ready to rule. Once you slot this card, you can't go back. The blood you spill, it's on you forever."
Ye Chen pressed the card against his chest. Three years, he'd let them grind him down like dirt under their boots. The Su family laughed at him. Zhao Wei treated him like garbage. He kept his head down, hiding, all to protect the woman he loved. That protection was gone now. Su Yan was a pawn. And if anyone was going to flip the board, it had to be him.
He staggered two blocks, barely able to walk, until he found a busted old phone booth with its light flickering. His fingers, sticky with blood and grime, dug at the emergency port at the base. The Golden SIM slid in.
Inside, the light turned red, deep and pulsing. No dial tone, just a strange series of high-speed pings coming through the receiver, sharp as glass. Secure servers talking to each other. The kind of tech nobody else on Earth could touch.
A voice answered. Not a secretary. Not a soldier. Something colder, as if the abyss itself had learned to speak.
"Identity Verified. Biometric match: Ye Chen. Level SSS Protocols Engaged. Supreme Commander, we have waited three thousand, six hundred and fifty days for this signal."
"This is Number 0," Ye Chen said, his body shaking, but his voice suddenly cold and steady. "The ten-year exile ends now. My grandfather's seal, I'm breaking it."
For a second, nothing. Just silence, a heavy, electric kind. Then a chair hit the floor on the other end.
"The... The Young Master? My Lord!" That cold voice broke, turning frantic, almost worshipful. "The Global Shadow Council stands ready! Dragon Guards, Black Market Sovereigns, Wealth Management Fleet, we're waiting for your command! Just say the word!"
Ye Chen caught a glimpse of himself in the cracked glass, blood on his lip, a bruise spreading across his jaw, eyes flat and empty.
"The Zhao Group," he said, voice dropping low. "They think they own this city. I want their stock shorted into the earth before the markets open. Every creditor calls in their loans now. Leak their scandals, raid their warehouses, wipe their name out before sunrise. I want Zhao Wei to realize the 'ant' he stepped on is the one keeping him alive."
"Consider it done, Sire. In four hours, the Zhao family will be ruined."
"And the Su family," Ye Chen continued. "Zhao Wei's using their debt as a leash. The Dragon Group will buy every cent of that debt. Put it in a private trust. Under my name. They don't belong to Zhao. They belong to me."
"Understood, My Lord. Tactical teams are tracking your GPS from the SIM. We're dispatching helicopters and an armored convoy"
"No," Ye Chen cut in, glancing out at the rain-slick street. "I'm not interested in a parade. Send a medical team to Central Hospital. My father-in-law's been in a coma for two years because the Su family couldn't pay for the experimental treatment. Fix him. I want him awake to see the world I'm building."
"It shall be done, Sire. Anything else?"
Ye Chen felt something cold and electric settle inside him. The pain in his ribs faded, replaced by that strange, humming power. "Yeah. Tell the world the Ye family isn't searching for their lost prince anymore."
He hung up and stepped out of the booth.
Rain still fell, but as he walked, it felt like the drops parted around him, or maybe he'd just stopped noticing the cold.
Far away, deep beneath the Swiss Alps, a digital map of the world flickered. In the center of China, one red dot turned gold.
In London, the CEO of the biggest hedge fund on Earth got a burst on his private line and went white, shouting for his board.
Off the Mediterranean coast, a fleet of black destroyers turned east.
The world got the message. Silence shattered. The King returned, not for a crown, but for everything.