CHAPTER 71: THE GENIUS INVESTOR

Chapter 70: The Genius Investor

I flicker of amusement curled through me. So this is where fate threads together.

I tilted my head. "You want me to trust a man everyone here calls a fraud?"

His jaw clenched. "I’m not a fraud. I gambled wrong. But given one chance, I can rebuild it all."

I studied him in silence. He squirmed, but didn’t back down.

Finally, I let a faint smile tug at my lips. "Then maybe... I’ll give you that chance."

His eyes widened. "What—?"

I stepped past him, cloak brushing his shoulder. "Meet me here tomorrow night. I’ll bring a contract."

And without another word, I disappeared into the crowd, leaving him frozen, trembling with a mix of confusion and hope.

---

Back in the night air aboveground, I pulled the Loki Mask from my cloak and slid it on.

For a moment, the world shifted. My reflection in the tavern’s grimy window blurred—features indistinct, aura completely gone.

Even I barely recognized myself.

Perfect.

[Passive Effect Activated: Trickster’s Veil.]

[All lies are now undetectable.]

A chuckle escaped me, low and satisfied.

"With this... I can become anyone."

The black market looked different when you weren’t wandering in for the first time.

The alleys were less intimidating, the whispers less suffocating. Or maybe it was because of the weight in my pocket—the Loki Mask.

I’d tested it earlier in the day. Its effect was flawless. Aura concealed, face blurred into forgettable vagueness. Even the sharpest observer would remember me differently after looking away. A priceless advantage in a world where reputation could kill.

Now, as I descended the spiral stairs once more, the masked guards barely glanced at me.

The underground opened up again—smoke, laughter, the stench of greed. But this time, I wasn’t here to gamble.

I was here to recruit.

---

Victor was already waiting in the corner of a tavern booth, a chipped glass of cheap whiskey in his hand. His coat looked even more worn in the flickering lamplight. He had the face of a man who hadn’t slept properly in weeks.

But when he saw me, his back straightened. His eyes—those sharp, restless eyes—lit up with something close to hunger.

"You came." His voice cracked slightly, betraying nerves.

I slid into the booth opposite him, cloak draped around me. "Of course. I said I would."

He studied me, lips twitching as if holding back disbelief. "...I don’t get it. Why me? There are better financiers. Cleaner reputations. I’m ruined."

"Exactly," I said smoothly. "You’re ruined. Which means no one will suspect you’re capable of building something again. To everyone else, you’re a ghost. That makes you useful to me."

His brows furrowed, but I could see the spark in his eyes. Hope, fragile but burning.

"...What are you offering?"

I leaned forward, resting my hands on the table. "A deal. I’ll sponsor your next company. You’ll be the face—the genius investor who rose from ashes. But in truth... you’ll work for me."

He blinked. "...Work for you?"

"Yes." My smile sharpened beneath the mask. "You’ll receive thirty percent of the shares. I’ll take sixty. Ten percent will be held for liquidity and growth. In return—" I reached into my cloak and placed a sealed envelope on the table. The weight of coin and credit chips clinked faintly. "—one million Ren, upfront, to establish operations."

Victor’s hand froze mid-air. His throat worked. "...One million?"

The glass trembled in his grip. He set it down quickly, afraid he’d spill it. "That’s... more than I’ve ever seen invested in me at once."

I tilted my head. "Then don’t waste it."

He stared at the envelope, then at me. Doubt flickered across his face. "...What’s the catch? Nobody gives that much to a failure."

My voice dropped, calm and steady. "The catch is that you’ll never betray me. Because if you do—this contract will burn you alive from the inside out."

I raised my hand. Mana flared faintly.

A scroll of shimmering parchment materialized, runes etched across its surface.

[Mana Contract Created.]

[Terms:

1. Victor Arkwright acknowledges Michael Willson as majority shareholder (60%).

2. Victor Arkwright agrees to act as the public face of the company.

3. Victor Arkwright cannot disclose Michael Willson’s involvement without consent.

4. Any breach will result in soulburn backlash.]

Victor’s breath hitched as he read it. The weight of mana contracts wasn’t a joke. They were absolute.

He looked up, voice hoarse. "...Who are you?"

I let the silence linger, mask hiding my expression. "Someone betting on the future."

The tension stretched. Then Victor laughed—short, almost hysterical. He grabbed the quill, his hand shaking, and signed his name.

Mana flared, sealing the contract.

[Contract Bound.]

Victor exhaled, slumping back in the booth. "...You’re insane. But maybe... maybe I needed someone insane enough to believe in me."

I slid the envelope toward him. "You needed someone who knew you’d rise again. Now prove me right."

He clutched it like a drowning man clutching driftwood. For a moment, his eyes gleamed—not with desperation this time, but with something sharper. Purpose.

---

As I rose to leave, Victor called after me.

"Wait."

I glanced back.

His voice was steady now, steadier than it had been all night. "Someday... when people remember my name again... I’ll make sure they know I didn’t do it alone. Even if they never learn your face."

I didn’t answer. Just gave a faint nod and disappeared into the smoke-filled corridor.

---

Outside, the night air was cold. I pulled the Loki Mask from my cloak, fingers brushing the runes.

With Victor as my proxy... and this artifact in my hand... the pieces of the board were shifting.

The Academy thought I was just another cadet. The nobles thought I was just another upstart.

Let them.

By the time they realized the truth, it would already be too late.

The Academy gates loomed tall in the moonlight as I slipped past the guards. My cloak clung to me, the Loki Mask warm against my skin.

It wasn’t heavy—more like a second layer of air, shifting with every breath. The moment I activated it, the world felt... lighter.

My aura, once sharp as a blade, dulled into nothingness. Even the air around me didn’t ripple with mana anymore.

[Artifact Effect Active: Loki’s Mask.]

[Presence concealed. Facial recognition disrupted. Memory distortion triggered.]

I exhaled slowly. If this worked as described, then I wasn’t Michael Willson anymore. I was... whoever they thought they saw.

---

The dormitory lights were still on when I entered. A few cadets lingered in the lobby, trading rumors about the upcoming VR Dungeon test.

"Did you hear? They’re saying it’ll be a D-rank dungeon replica."

"Tch, easy. I’ll clear it in half the time."

"Half the time? Please. You couldn’t even handle the goblin trial."

Their laughter echoed, but it faltered as I walked past.

Three sets of eyes turned toward me. Recognition flickered, then dulled into confusion.

"...Who was that?" one cadet whispered.

"I... don’t know. Some transfer?"

"No, I’ve seen him before—wait, have I?"

I almost smirked. Perfect.

The Loki Mask didn’t make me invisible—it made me forgettable. The mind filled in the gaps with whatever explanation felt natural. To them, I wasn’t Michael, Rank 1 of Class A. I was just... another face.

---

The real test came in the training hall.

I pushed open the heavy doors. The room buzzed with mana, students sparring in their free time.

Eric William was among them, blade flashing as he toyed with Ren. The arrogance in his stance was unchanged, even after the ball incident.

He noticed me first, sneering. "Hey, you. You looking at me?"

I tilted my head slightly, letting the mask distort my aura further. "No. Just passing through."

Eric blinked. His sneer faltered. He looked at me, eyes narrowing... then softening into dismissal.

"Hmph. Thought you were someone else." He turned away, barking at Ren to attack again.

I walked past him, hidden in plain sight.

Even Leon and Selena, standing by the far wall discussing strategy, barely glanced at me. Leon’s gaze slid over me once, lingering for a second... then moved on, as though his instincts couldn’t anchor to who I was. Selena frowned faintly, but even her sharp violet eyes lost their focus the moment I turned.

I clenched my fist, excitement simmering in my chest.

This was more than concealment. This was freedom.

Freedom from scrutiny. Freedom from noble politics. Freedom to move unseen, even among the brightest flames of the Academy.

---

Later, in my room, I deactivated the mask. The air snapped, my aura rushing back in.

I leaned against the desk, pulse quickening. "...This changes everything."

The upcoming election. The shadow games between nobles. Derisu’s looming hand.

All of it could be navigated if I could choose when to be Michael Willson... and when to be no one at all.

And now I have gain and Bank of money which will my biggest backup in near future.

If the plot progress as the game I will need must money and I could not depend on System SP , which I need to create skill .

Also it time to meet my another future gold piggy bank.

---