The sky wept furiously, drenching the city in a cold, merciless downpour. Outside the towering gates of Starlight Enterprises, two figures knelt in the churning mud. One was old, his expensive suit ruined, his face a mask of utter despair. It was Chairman Wang, the patriarch of a now-defunct ten-billion-dollar dynasty. He held his son, Derek, by the collar, forcing him down. “Kneel! Kneel properly, you worthless animal!” he roared over the thunder. Derek, his face swollen and bruised, spat. “Father, why? Why are we kneeling to that trash? He was a janitor! We can crush him!” *CRACK!* The old man’s hand flew across Derek’s face, a slap so hard it echoed. “Fool! He is no janitor! He is the hidden heir of the Vance family! With one word, he wiped out a century of our family’s work! Your arrogance has destroyed us all!” Derek’s eyes widened in horror, the truth finally crashing down on him. He began to tremble, no longer from cold but from pure terror. The massive iron gates slid open. A black Rolls-Royce Phantom, silent as a predator, glided out. It stopped directly beside them. Chairman Wang scrambled forward on his knees, his forehead nearly touching the wet asphalt. “Mr. Vance! Please! Forgive my son’s ignorance! He didn’t know who you were! I didn’t know! Please, give our family a path to survive! I will be your dog, your slave, anything!” Inside the car, Kane glanced at Ethan. “Sir?” Ethan’s face was carved from ice. He stared straight ahead, as if the two groveling figures were less than insects on the pavement. The rear window descended with a soft, electronic hum. Chairman Wang looked up, a sliver of desperate hope in his eyes. Ethan’s gaze, colder than the winter rain, finally fell upon them. His voice was quiet, yet it cut through the storm like a shard of glass. Ethan lowered his Rolls-Royce window and said coldly: “When you pushed people too far, did you ever imagine this ending?” Then he drove straight off.

Begging in the Mud