CHAPTER 60: MEETING THE PAST

A pale gray haze hung low over the cemetery, softening the sharp lines of the city skyline.

The funeral procession had arrived an hour late, but no one dared to complain—not when it was Jin Monrrow, the richest man on the Eastern continent, who was burying his daughter.

The black cars rolled to a halt along the stone-paved path, their polished surfaces gleaming like oil beneath the overcast sky.

Jin stepped out first.

No tears. No hesitation.

Just a crisp black suit, an immaculate silver tie, and eyes hidden behind designer sunglasses.

His expression hadn’t changed since the news broke a few days ago: Julia Monrrow, 32, heiress to a fashion empire, dead in a car crash on the Northbridge Expressway.

At least, that’s what the headlines claimed.

Now, the world had gathered to see how Jin Monrrow would mourn.

He didn’t.

He stood beside the white-lacquered casket like a man attending a board meeting—hands clasped behind his back, his attention drifting as the priest began to speak.

Next to him stood the rest of the Monrrow children, each cut from the same sharp, sculpted mold, though none quite as polished as their father.

Caleb stood rigid, fists clenched, his jaw ticking every time his gaze landed on the coffin.

Katherine, flawless in her charcoal-gray dress, kept dabbing her eyes with a silk handkerchief—though her mascara hadn’t smudged. Not even once.

And then there was Nate. Hands buried deep in his coat pockets, eyes flicking toward Jin every few seconds, searching for something—approval, reaction, anything.

But Jin didn’t move. Didn’t flinch when the priest spoke Julia’s name. Didn’t blink when the casket was lowered into the ground.

Only once, when a white rose was handed to him, did he act.

He took it without a word, stared at it for a moment too long... then dropped it. Not into the grave, but at his feet.

"Let’s not drag this out," he said flatly, already turning to leave before the final prayer had ended.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Cameras clicked like distant thunder.

Caleb’s eyes burned with restrained fury. Katherine pressed her lips together to keep from trembling. Nate looked like he’d just taken a punch to the gut.

Jin didn’t notice.

Or maybe he did—and simply didn’t care.

He lit a cigarette as he passed the media barrier, the wind catching his coat like a cape.

Behind him, Julia Monrrow was lowered into the earth, as the world watched in stunned silence.

And then came the question—unspoken yet heavy in the air:

What kind of man doesn’t cry at his daughter’s funeral?

A wave of reporters surged forward, desperate for a statement, a glance—anything.

Why so nonchalant? What kind of father acts like this?

They needed answers, and they were willing to do whatever it took to get them.

But Jin’s personal guards were already in formation. As instructed, they didn’t let anyone get within reach. He had warned them beforehand—no exceptions.

And none of them were foolish enough to risk their jobs for a headline.

No one got a word out of him. Jin left as coldly as he had arrived, stunning the crowd and leaving them with nothing but speculation.

It didn’t take long before the rumors began to swirl.

Despite his abrupt departure, the funeral continued. The Monrrow siblings remained, receiving most of the heartfelt condolences meant for their late sister.

Nate stood off to the side, barely responding to the steady stream of sympathizers. Selene and Sam—the twins—offered polite smiles, while Jason and Caleb did most of the talking, accepting handshakes, hugs, and murmured words with practiced warmth.

Gideon, standing a short distance away, watched it all unfold and muttered under his breath, "Your dad sure is an asshole. I think we can all agree on that."

Caleb gave a tired sigh. "What do you expect from a man who watched his wife die and didn’t even blink? This... was to be expected."

Even Naya, beside him, didn’t bother hiding the disgust on her face. She clung to Caleb’s arm, resting her head lightly against it.

"You really should talk to him," she said softly.

"No point—for now," Caleb replied, his gaze drifting. His thoughts were elsewhere.

The past few weeks had been brutal. Julia’s death had hit him harder than anyone realized. The calls started the moment the news broke—people asking questions, connecting dots, whispering blame.

After all, she had been last seen with him.

’As usual, X covered their tracks,’ he thought bitterly. The shock he’d felt when the police showed him the edited footage still lingered. It showed Julia driving alone on the expressway, with Caleb and Naya following behind, just before the truck slammed into her car.

’A truck, though? Really?’ The choice felt too blunt. Too deliberate. But at the time, he hadn’t questioned it too deeply.

He’d been too busy cleaning up the aftermath.

The mess at the auction house alone had cost a fortune to repair. All damage courtesy of X.

But... there had been a silver lining. Thanks to Julia’s final event—the grand auction—word of the hall’s elegance had spread like wildfire. And in the days that followed, deal after deal had poured in.

Business was booming.

Still, none of it dulled the hollow ache in his chest.

Even Eldora had shown up—with a deal of his own. And it wasn’t a small one.

’With just that one deal, I can complete the mission before the deadline,’ Caleb thought with a quiet sigh of relief.

Back to business.

He didn’t have the luxury of mourning any longer. The system didn’t pause for grief.

{System Notification}

Expected Returns Before Mission Deadline: $1,500,000

Time Left: 2 Days

Penalty for Failure: 20% Deduction from Net Worth

He had done everything possible to give Julia a burial worthy of her name. But now, the mission demanded his attention again.

Cardholders Seduced: (Naya Lucy)

∆ Wealth Tab

— 10X rebate earned per climax level (calculated after each session): $ (No new host)

— Passive Income Streams from Cardholders: $100

— Current Investment Allocations: $ (Pending)

— Wealth vs. Sibling Leaderboard: Caleb Monrrow — Rank: 5th

— Side Earnings: $50,000,000

Total Earnings: $84,000,100

Penalty Fee Applied: -$10,000,000

Thanks to the auction, Caleb had walked away nearly a third richer than before. But the system was merciless. It didn’t care that Julia had died. She’d been part of the mission—and her death triggered the penalty hanging like a shadow over his balance.

He stared at the glowing panel for a moment, watching it flicker before it blinked out of existence.

No new missions had appeared—yet. That gave him a short window to focus on his personal ventures.

Then there was the passive income.

’It increased slightly after Naya’s last magazine sold out completely...’ he mused, mentally running through the numbers.

’But how does the system calculate that? Based on influence? Performance?’

He still hadn’t figured out all the mechanics.

"Caleb, little brother."

The voice broke through his thoughts—deep, familiar.

Caleb turned, and Naya instinctively turned with him.

Nate was walking up the path toward them, a relaxed grin on his face, and clinging to his arm was a woman—one Caleb recognized instantly.

His gaze sharpened, darkening.

’Sophia.’

That alone would’ve been enough to sour his mood.

But then—

{Ding!}

{Cardholder Detected!}