November 13, 2037 | 9:30 AM | GREM Special Administrative Islands

  Inside a silent bedroom, Mook sat motionless on the edge of a wide bed.

  His face was a mask of hollow indifference, the expression of a man who had shattered completely and lost all will to live. These past seven days had felt like seven lifetimes of agony. His body moved only out of necessity, responding to the world like a programmed machine. He handled the chaos, signed the financial documents, and performed the final, most painful duty... cremating the body of the woman he loved with all his soul, watching her turn to ash.

  “Lord Mook...” Hana whispered from the doorway.

  Since the funeral, anyone who tried to approach him had been driven away without mercy. He wanted to see no one—not even his own mother. But today, the suffocating tension seemed to lift slightly. Natsuki and Hana found they could step inside and stand beside his bed without him barking at them to leave.

  When Rina was alive, even though they were treated with kindness and care, they always felt like useless parasites. Rina had never allowed Mook the chance to show them profound affection. But now, Rina was gone. In the midst of Mook's absolute emotional fragility, they saw a golden opportunity, and they were determined not to let it slip away.

  Shift...

  The two women slowly sank onto the bed, flanking Mook. They embraced him gently, hoping their warmth would act as a balm for his soul. Mook, trapped in the freezing void of loss for so long, turned to look at Hana on his right.

  Hana didn't waste a second. As their eyes met, she leaned in and pressed her lips against his, offering a new, sweet taste to the broken man before her.

  The weakness that had been gnawing at his heart for days made Mook yield. He accepted the kiss easily. The agonizing loneliness and emptiness made this surge of sweetness feel like a perfect anesthetic—something he craved just to stop the pain. Hana let him invade her senses, exchanging deep, lingering touches while her hands slowly began to shed her own clothing.

  Natsuki was not to be outdone. She rose quickly, discarding her clothes before returning to sit flush against him. She kissed and caressed Mook’s neck with enticing fervor. Together, the two women slowly pushed Mook back until he lay flat on the bed, beginning to pamper him with their bodies and sensations he had never experienced before.

  Hours passed...

  Mook opened his eyes to find the two women curled against him. He picked up his phone to check the social media feeds, only to stop at a news report about the gunman who had killed Rina.

  The man was now crying on camera, claiming he was deeply remorseful. Public opinion was split down the middle. One side cursed him, but the other side—to Mook's horror—offered sympathy and encouragement. Simply because the killer was a handsome, struggling former net idol who had ‘lost everything.’

  — “He must have been so stressed. No job, no money. It’s okay. Serve your time and start over.” — “Stay strong! Everyone makes mistakes.” — “Come back as a better person after your sentence, okay?”

  Those comments seared into Mook’s retinas. While there were voices of rage on his behalf, his eyes—now burning with a terrifying thirst for vengeance—chose to see only the pity offered to the murderer. It stoked the fire of hatred in his heart until it roared.

  CRACK!

  The phone screen shattered under the force of his trembling hand. Mook’s eyes turned cold and predatory, a sight so horrifying that the two women beside him shook with fear. But Natsuki and Hana only clung to him tighter, remaining in absolute silence to secure their position as his ‘favorites’—the ones he would love and protect from now on.

  ***

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  November 30, 2037 | 1:30 PM | Inside the GREM Virtual World

  At a private beach reserved for GREM’s elite investors...

  “Are you really going to give them a chance?” Eric asked, staring at the horizon over the ocean.

  “His lover was gunned down like that, and yet he’s offering an olive branch to the enemy... What exactly is that boy thinking?” Eleanor added calmly, sipping an expensive wine.

  “Patience, everyone. Let’s hear his proposal first,” Saito said, waving a hand as a signal.

  “Yes. I am going to give them a chance.” Mook materialized on the sand. His gaze was hollow and frigid as he scanned the tycoons. “Currently, the unemployment rate hasn't reached a critical breaking point, so the protests are still manageable. But if the numbers spike, global chaos will follow. The governments currently on our side might flip. Wouldn't it be better if we made them surrender of their own accord?”

  The investors leaned in, listening intently. Mook delivered his final sentence in a tone that was flat, yet dripping with malice.

  “We will give them a chance... but it will be a hollow chance. One that doesn't truly exist.”

  ***

  December 20, 2037 | 9:40 AM | Bangkok, Thailand

  At a major shopping mall...

  “Mr. Mook! Mr. Mook!” Reporters screamed, swarming him as he made his way toward the negotiation stage Nisa had prepared. The event was being broadcast live to the entire world.

  As Mook and Nisa took their seats, the journalists unleashed a barrage of questions.

  “What kind of chance are you giving Ms. Nisa and the women?” “What about the men who are also unemployed? How will you handle them?”

  Mook remained still, raising his right hand to silence the room. He began to speak in a voice that was eerily soft and gentle.

  “After spending many days reflecting... I, too, once had a lover.” Mook let a trace of sorrow touch his face. “My lover was a woman. I realized that if I were gone and she remained, she might be the one suffering... Because of this, I went back to my employer and investors. They have agreed to let you—all of you—be put to a test.”

  Nisa felt a small surge of hope. She allowed herself to believe that Rina’s death hadn't filled Mook with rage against society, but had instead granted him a sense of mercy toward women.

  “What kind of test?” a reporter blurted out.

  “There are approximately four billion women in the world, correct?” Mook asked. Everyone nodded. He turned directly to Nisa.

  “You said yourself that you would wipe out those ‘toxic values,’ right? Then starting today, GREM will no longer block sexualized livelihoods. We will not interfere. However! From January 1st of the coming year to January 1st of the following year, the collective expression of obsession over ‘handsome men’—be it biased behavior, blushing, carrying photos of handsome men, watching clips, or screaming in public—must not occur more than One Hundred Million times. We will count one clip, one person, or one captured event as one instance. How does that sound?”

  Nisa actually beamed with joy. One hundred million times seemed like a vast enough margin for four billion women to manage through cooperation.

  ‘Has he really changed? Is it because of his late girlfriend, or those two behind him?’ Nisa wondered, glancing at Natsuki and Hana, who stood like statues behind Mook. She turned back to him, ready to accept.

  “But there is one more condition from my employer,” Mook interrupted. “To be honest, certain past events have made my boss resent you even more than I do. But since the investors see that letting women into GREM will boost revenue, they’ve compromised.”

  “What condition?” Nisa asked, her voice steady. She was becoming more certain that she could do this.

  “Your daughter...” Mook looked toward a nineteen-year-old girl standing among the reporters. “She must be the hostage for every woman in the world. She will return to you safely if you succeed... but if you fail, my employer will ensure you never see her again.”

  The implication made Nisa’s heart skip a beat. But as she weighed the first condition—She can do it. Women can do it.—her faith in her peers won out. One hundred million was enough to handle a few mistakes.

  “I can do it, Mom!” ‘Nam,’ a girl as beautiful as her mother, spoke up boldly. The cameras swiveled toward her.

  Seeing her daughter’s resolve, Nisa steeled herself. “Fine... we will do it!”

  ***

  December 30, 2037 | 9:40 AM | GREM Special Administrative Islands

  Mook stood looking at a gargantuan server room he had just finished building. His eyes were cold with satisfaction as he whispered into the chilling air.

  “It is time for the Witch Hunt...”