01.30 AM
The room was simple and neat.
The walls were plain white, without decoration. On one side stood a single bed with a dark gray bedsheet slightly messy at the edge. Next to the door was a light wood wardrobe.
On the other side of the room was a desk pressed against the wall, with a computer as its center of activity.
In front of the computer sat a man in his late twenties, black hair and calm but sharp blue eyes fixed on the screen. He wore a clean short-sleeved white shirt, neatly pressed, and dark brown trousers.
He was Lucian, a figure who never truly appeared in public records, yet his influence could be felt across many layers of the world—shifts in global economics, collapsing political networks, and the deaths of several important figures across different regions, all leaving no confirmed trace of a perpetrator.
In his ear was a modern earhook communication device, wrapping around the outer ear with a small microphone pointed toward his cheek. It was active, connecting him to an artificial intelligence network controlling the entire system of Taratoga Island.
Beside him stood a woman with long blonde hair, holding a tablet in front of her chest. The screen displayed constantly updating global activity data—economic movements, political dynamics, and hidden patterns not visible on the surface, yet shaping the world from behind the scenes.
Her hair fell to her waist in soft natural waves, while she wore a vintage Korean pleated dress with a classic cut, simple yet elegant, with fine buttons and neatly pleated skirt details, creating a formal yet gentle impression—like someone who remained professional while carrying a quiet, timeless aesthetic.
Her name never truly appeared in any official records, yet in the dark spaces of the global digital network, she was known as the peak of abilities that should not belong to a single individual—someone capable of breaching any system, reading data architecture invisible even to state-level security agencies, and manipulating information flow as if the entire digital world was under her control. In many black hat circles, she was simply called the best.
During the period from late December 2019 to May 5, 2023, Lucian had withdrawn to Taratoga Island with his trusted assistant after discovering a plan by enemies to spread a virus known as CIVIL-19.
To the outside world, it looked like an ordinary pandemic, but for them, it was not just a health crisis—it was a structured operation used to restrict global mobility, tighten information control, and shrink their room to operate.
"Natasha, how is the latest operation report?" Lucian's voice was calm, without pressure, yet enough to make the air in the room feel heavier.
The blonde woman lifted her gaze from the tablet in her hands. The device still displayed continuously moving global data, connected to Lucian's computer.
"For now, our plan to manipulate interest rates in the global banking system is going… not fully according to the initial prediction," she continued, "it can't be called a complete success, but it also can't be called a failure."
On the screen, lines of interest rates and liquidity moved up and down sharply, following periods of extreme central bank policies worldwide.
"The short-term effects match the projection: massive liquidity expansion, currency devaluation, and increased dependency of financial institutions on central interventions."
She took a small breath, then continued without changing her tone.
"But in the later phase, when public trust started to decline and interest rates were raised aggressively, the system began to reverse."
Several bank names appeared on the screen, marked in red with restructuring notes.
"Silicon Valley Bank, Signature Bank, and First Republic Bank in the United States. In Europe, Credit Suisse lost stability and was eventually taken over through emergency acquisition."
"These banks did not exactly 'fail' in the classic sense," she continued, "but collapsed in a systemic form—liquidity could not withstand the speed of policy changes."
The tablet screen changed again, showing a summary of global money flows.
"In the end, like previous periods, the system was once again saved by new liquidity printing and emergency interventions to prevent a domino effect."
She stopped, staring directly at Lucian who was tapping the table with his index finger.
"Sir, does all of this have any meaning?" the woman asked, her voice trembling as she looked at Lucian.
Lucian stopped his finger tapping and slowly turned to meet her eyes.
"From the outside, this may look pointless, but if we look deeper, global trust in the dollar should have decreased."
Lucian said it calmly, then rotated his chair slightly toward the screen again.
His fingers moved quickly on the mouse, clicking several times until the monitor changed into a more complex graph—timeline lines, liquidity spikes, and money supply curves rising sharply during specific periods.
"As you can see," he continued, "around 40 percent of the dollars circulating in the world were printed during this period."
He paused briefly, pointing at the highest part of the graph.
"This means we forced them into a liquidity expansion phase that should not have happened this early—at least several years ahead of the normal cycle. and now I'm certain people are starting to realize something is wrong with their money"
"Not that," Natasha snapped.
Lucian fell silent. His eyes widened slightly—surprised because this was the first time Natasha had spoken to him like that.
"Why are you doing all of this?" Natasha continued, her voice softer but sharp. Her eyes did not leave Lucian, a restrained doubt inside them, while her fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of the tablet she was holding. "Why did you choose to fight them? You could live peacefully with all the money and power you have. Don't you think… all of this might be pointless?"
Lucian did not answer immediately. His fingers returned to the table.
Tap… tap… tap…
The sound filled the silence between them.
"A peaceful life… actually, I want that too."
"It reminds me of something Alexander once said: if I hadn't been born Alexander, I would have wanted to be Diogenes."
"I suppose being Diogenes wouldn't be so bad if only he'd been more mindful of hygiene, had a decent place to live, and enough to eat."
His hand stopped.
Tap.
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"Since ancient times, humanity has always been divided into two main layers. Those who possess resources, influence, and power—the nobles… and everyone else."
He paused briefly, choosing his words.
"They are the ones under the control of the nobles' system. They come in many forms and names, but I prefer to group them all into one term—slaves."
Natasha did not interrupt.
Lucian continued, "Back then, there was almost no way to change class. The only path for those at the bottom to rise… was through major upheavals—political chaos, economic collapse, or war."
"However… the Second World War changed all of that."
He opened his eyes and lifted his gaze slightly.
"Do you know why?"
Natasha hesitated, then answered uncertainly, "More opportunities… for ordinary people to rise?"
Lucian shook his head slightly.
"Not just opportunities. The war reshaped the entire structure of society."
He looked directly at Natasha.
"After that, something previously unstable in human history emerged… the middle class."
"The middle class are those who possess power that the lower class does not have, but at the same time their power is still controlled by the upper class. and in this era the middle class has grown so significantly that the world has become harder to control"
"Seeing this, they became dissatisfied, so they tried to eliminate the middle class, to return the world to how it was supposed to be."
"You have no obligation to save them, after all what happens to them has nothing to do with us." Natasha frowned, her lips tightening slightly, her gaze sharpening toward Lucian.
"You're wrong if you think this is about saving them."
"The middle class… the system… or whoever you think is the reason."
Lucian paused briefly.
"No."
"From the very beginning, this was never about saving or freeing anyone."
He turned slightly, making sure Natasha was listening.
"You think I'm moving for them?" Lucian gave a mocking laugh.
"No."
"I don't care about their lives."
"I don't care whether they rise or fall."
Lucian paused.
"What I care about is only one thing. the one at the top of the system, the one who controls the entire world."
Lucian smiled faintly, almost invisible—his gaze cold, like a predator that had already locked onto its target.
"And I will take that control from his hands by making this world turn against him."