CHAPTER 234: SOPHISTICATED SLAVERY

The study was quiet once more, thick velvet curtains filtering the morning sun into a soft amber glow.

This warm light cast long shadows across the bookshelves and polished mahogany desk, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and heavy with unspoken words.

Arthur sat comfortably, one leg crossed over the other, savoring deep red wine from a crystalline glass.

The rich aroma of aged paper, oak, and a hint of spice from the wine lingered in the air like an old secret waiting to be shared.

Across from him, Billy occupied a leather armchair, stiff and uncomfortable, his back straight as if he were awaiting judgment.

The weight of everything he had just revealed hung heavily between them: his humiliation, his realization, his guilt.

Arthur’s expression remained calm; a slight smile curled at the corners of his lips as he regarded Billy with measured interest.

He swirled his wine thoughtfully before asking, "What does it feel like to have nothing? No power,no wealth,no name?"

Billy glanced down at the wine glass cradled in his hands and replied quietly, "Like I said before... it’s like being invisible, like your life is on sale and the price keeps dropping every day."

Arthur smiled, not out of mockery but with a strange sense of solemn satisfaction. "Good," he said softly. "You’re beginning to see now."

A silence stretched between them before Arthur stood up again and walked over to the tall windows behind his desk.

He gazed out at manicured lawns and private lakes, a world insulated from suffering.

Then, in a voice that seemed to resonate with wisdom gained through many lifetimes, Arthur began: "There was a man I knew once..."

Billy perked up at this shift in tone.

"A white-collar worker trapped in a steel jungle," Arthur continued. "He wore ill-fitting suits and ties that suffocated rather than adorned him. Every morning for over a decade, he took the same train, passed by the same buildings, greeted familiar faces, all while pouring everything into his job."

Arthur’s gaze darkened as he recalled painful memories. "But no matter how hard he worked... he never rose."

Turning back to face Billy directly, he asked pointedly: "Do you know what happened when he proposed an innovative strategy that saved the company millions?"

Billy remained silent but met Arthur’s serious gaze.

"His manager took all the credit," Arthur said coldly. "He smiled in front of him but stabbed him in the back as soon as executives shook hands."

Arthur moved deliberately past the bookshelves before continuing: "And when that man tried to complain to HR?"

He scoffed bitterly. "’Maintain a positive work environment’... or leave."

His voice dripped with disdain for such hollow platitudes, "Just like that! A decade of loyalty gone!"

He came to a stop behind Billy, his voice dropping to a near whisper, as if sharing a deep secret. "And so, he swallowed the injustice. Just like millions of others... because he needed that paycheck."

Billy looked up, eyes wide with confusion. He couldn’t quite grasp why Arthur’s tone stirred something within him, it felt personal, almost as if Arthur was speaking about himself.

But he quickly dismissed that absurd notion; after all, it was just a story.

Arthur moved back to the desk, hands clasped behind his back like a man preparing to deliver news of grave importance. "Do you know how that story ended?" he asked.

Billy snapped back to reality and shook his head vigorously.

Arthur’s gaze seemed to pierce right through him. "He died alone on the floor of his cramped office, heart clutched in pain, an overtime sheet still on his desk... while his manager celebrated a promotion earned with his toil."

Suddenly, the air felt heavy and cold. A moment passed before Arthur continued, his voice now distant and haunting.

"They didn’t even find him until the next morning; his death clocked in at 11:58 PM, no overtime pay."

Billy’s breath caught in his throat.

Arthur turned slowly, shadows dancing across half of his face from the dim light. "And do you know what I realized from that?"

Billy shook his head again but this time more solemnly.

Arthur leaned closer and whispered words that struck like arrows. "This world doesn’t run on fairness; it runs on power."

He settled into his chair with an eerie calmness. "The system is designed to use you," he said firmly. "They make you think hard work leads to success,that climbing the ladder will eventually take you somewhere worthwhile."

His voice grew sharper as he pressed on: "But that ladder? It’s fake! It’s built to break under your weight just when you get close enough to touch the top."

Leaning forward slightly, he added emphatically, "They tell you to vote and believe your voice matters, that your dreams are yours to chase."

Arthur let out a bitter laugh. "You really think presidents are chosen by votes? No way! They’re appointed by those who already hold power, the voting system is just an elaborate circus designed to pacify us all."

Billy’s face paled as thoughts swirled chaotically in his mind.

Arthur poured another glass of wine and took a deliberate sip before continuing: "They told us slavery ended centuries ago," he said quietly but forcefully. "But look around you, Billy, what has really changed?"

He gestured vaguely toward the outside world. "The collars are digital now; chains are hidden in loan agreements and salary slips. You work ten, twelve, fourteen hours a day... only to find yourself one emergency away from total collapse."

"That’s not freedom," Arthur asserted passionately. "That’s sophisticated slavery."

Billy felt a tightness in his throat as he listened to Arthur.

"They give you just enough to survive," Arthur said, his voice steady yet filled with an undercurrent of intensity. "Just enough to feel like you’re making progress, but they drain your soul drop by drop while you do it."

He set down his wine glass and steepled his fingers, a gesture that commanded attention.

"You want to know why I run this family the way I do? Why I won’t tolerate disobedience?"

Billy nodded slowly, curiosity piqued. This was not the Arthur he knew.

"Because I refuse to be a slave again," Arthur declared, his eyes glinting like obsidian steel. "I won’t let anyone with my blood crawl beneath a system designed only to crush them."

A heavy silence settled between them, thick with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, Billy broke the stillness. "So... what do we do?"

Arthur rose from his seat, his silhouette framed by the warm glow of sunlight streaming through the window.

"We become the architects," he proclaimed with conviction. "We stop playing by their rules and start writing our own. We create systems where we are at the top."

"I will build a dynasty that no government, no council, no elite circle can bend," he continued fiercely. "And if they try..."

He turned sharply to Billy, eyes ablaze with determination. "...I will bury them beneath the weight of our legacy."

Billy stared at him, heart racing with both fear and excitement.