The Dragon Arrives
The sound came slowly at first—an engine's rumble. Then more. Louder. Deeper. Dozens.
Tyler stood at his window, swirling the last drops of his whiskey. Outside, a convoy of black cars crawled up the hill like a parade of doom. Spotlights flicked on from the cars. Headlights flared. They weren't hiding.
"Subtle as a nuke," Tyler muttered.
The gates, normally locked tight, had been left open—on purpose.
The Dragon King wanted drama? Tyler would give him a stage.
The cars came to a stop in front of the mansion. The central door opened, and out stepped the man himself—six-foot-four, wearing a suit tighter than his face. Hair slicked back, glasses like a villain from a cheap comic, and a smug expression that screamed "I own you."
Flanked by men on both sides, he walked up the path like a celebrity on a red carpet.
Tyler met him at the door.
"Well, well," Tyler said with a raised brow. "Didn't know you were bringing your fan club."
"You look less dead than I expected," the man said, stepping closer.
"I moisturize."
"You mock me," the Dragon King growled. "Do you remember what you did to me three years ago?"
"You mean when you showed up demanding millions with no reason, no proof, and no explanation? Yeah, that rings a bell."
"I was in need."
"And I was in business," Tyler said coolly. "Still am, by the way. Now get off my lawn."
The Dragon King snapped his fingers. His men stepped forward.
And that's when the sirens hit.
The Plot Twist
Red and blue lights flooded the street.
"Get on the ground! Hands where I can see them!"
Dozens of officers poured in from every direction. Tyler, arms casually crossed, turned to the Dragon King with a slow grin.
"Oops," he said. "Guess the neighbors got nervous. Something about armed men at midnight?"
"You set me up," the man hissed.
Tyler leaned close and whispered, "I didn't set you up. I just let you walk into your own mess."
The Dragon King tried to bark an order, but two officers grabbed his arms.
"Wait! Do you know who I am?! I'm the—"
"You're trespassing on private property, and our system flagged multiple weapons," an officer cut in.
Tyler raised his hand. "I'd prefer no violence in my house. Take them outside if you must."
As the Dragon King was dragged away, he shouted one last time, "You'll regret this, Tyler! I swear it!"
Tyler waved. "Probably. But not today."
The System Chimes In
As the cars pulled away and peace returned, the system's voice echoed in his head:
> [Quest Complete: Ruin the Chosen One's Destiny]
> [+10,000 Reputation Points Earned]
> [New Reward Unlocked: Copy Target Ability – Dragon King (Fighting Style: Unorthodox Strength Martial Flow)]
Tyler blinked. "I can copy that clown's fighting?"
> [Confirm Copy?]
He smirked. "Oh, absolutely."
> [Ability Copied. Now integrating.]
He felt it—not in muscles, not in bones, but in instinct. Like he'd just remembered something he never learned. His body relaxed. His mind sharpened.
Tyler poured himself another drink.
"One fight won," he whispered. "Let's see how many more it takes to own the multiverse."
And for the first time that night, he truly smiled.