No outward hostility nor ill intent, Harold Jin kept his eyes fixed on the calculations he had made during the meeting.
He failed to realize—
What he had just said was considered a taboo.
One of the many truths that were never meant to be spoken aloud, even if everyone quietly acknowledged them.
Nathaniel Crow broke the silence with a faint smile, his eyes laced with mocking curiosity.
"Mr. Harold Jin," Nathaniel said, "have you grown quite comfortable being associated with the elites?"
Harold furrowed his brows.
"What do you mean?"
Nathaniel stepped closer.
"It just seems to me that you have quite a lot to say."
His gaze sharpened.
"What I find more curious is this—your Jin family has only recently entered this space. Not even as a proper member. A visitor, at best."
He tilted his head slightly.
"You haven't even reached the standing of a partial member like Ethan or Jay. Their families are established. Yours… is not."
His tone softened, but the edge remained.
"You're new to this level of status. This… luxury beyond your previous reach."
He paused.
"And yet, you speak as if you've always belonged here."
"Excuse me?" Harold replied, his voice tightening. "Why are you saying this?"
"More like," Clara Hightower interjected coolly, "it's amusing."
She looked at him with thinly veiled disdain.
"When people like you get a taste of power, they tend to forget their place."
Harold clenched his fists.
But he didn't move.
He couldn't.
Unlike Lydia Marques, he didn't have the position to act without consequence.
If he stepped out of line—
It wouldn't just be him.
His entire family could be erased. Not just this generation, but the next.
Still—
He refused to concede.
Because based on the numbers he had seen, no family could sustain what the Piao family was doing.
Not even close.
Though even he knew his calculations were incomplete.
The elite families hid the majority of their true resources behind layers of secrecy.
"Enough."
Amara Veyra stepped in, her voice calm but firm.
"Leave him alone. I think he understands."
Even if he didn't, it doesn't matter.
She turned her attention back to him.
"What is your task, Mr. Jin? What were you assigned to assess?"
Harold exhaled slowly, releasing the tension he had been holding.
"To calculate the potential operational cost of the headquarters," he said. "And to estimate its sustainability."
"Interesting," Amara replied.
She straightened slightly.
"Then we're done here."
Her gaze shifted across the room.
"Mr. Jin. Jay Everwell. Ethan Cardwell."
"I don't believe the three of you need to remain any longer."
She paused briefly before continuing.
"And Mr. Jin—despite your… earlier misstep, I'll entrust you with something."
Harold nodded.
"What is it?"
"Escort them back to their quarters," Amara said. "You're familiar with the elite-designated area. You'll know the routes."
She added,
"While you're at it, perform a full sweep of each room. Make sure there are no surveillance devices in place."
"Understood."
Harold turned to leave.
Kael Everwyn moved immediately, opening the door.
He held it in place as Harold exited, followed by Ethan and Jay.
Once they were gone, he shut it quietly behind them.
Silence settled over the room.
For a moment—
No one spoke.
Then Nathaniel exhaled softly.
"I assume you understand what I meant earlier."
Clara nodded.
"I do."
"There's no need to explain."
"Good."
Nathaniel's gaze shifted.
"Then, Mr. Garfield Everworth… you no longer need to concern yourself with your earlier hesitation."
He stepped slightly to the side.
"Our missions are… aligned, in a sense."
"So," he continued, "what does yours entail?"
Garfield adjusted his posture.
"I believe this may require us to sit—"
"I prefer to stand," Clara interrupted flatly.
"Same," Amara added.
Nathaniel didn't move.
Garfield paused, then gave a small nod.
"…Very well. Standing it is."
He straightened fully.
"My mission entails—"
.
.
.
.
Outside the opposition's designated quarters—
Harold Jin slammed his fist against the wall.
"F*ck!"
The impact echoed down the corridor.
Ethan Caldwell and Jay Everwell exchanged a glance.
Ethan raised a brow, looking at Harold Jin's back as he faced the wall. Then he looked at Jay.
Then back at Harold.
Then back at Jay again.
The message was clear.
Jay sighed and walked over, placing a hand on Harold's shoulder.
"Hey," he said. "They're not usually like that."
Harold shoved his hand off immediately.
"Of course they aren't like that to you," he snapped. "You're part of their so-called group."
Jay's hand dropped. He stared at him for a moment before sliding both hands into his pockets and continuing forward.
"Well," he said, "you touched on something you weren't supposed to."
Harold frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Jay shrugged.
Ethan stepped in.
"Anything related to the Piao family," he said calmly, "especially beyond surface-level business, is considered a major taboo."
He continued,
"If you compare them to the main elites, it's even worse. For partial members or visitors like you, the restriction isn't as obvious."
A pause.
"That's probably why you've never heard of it."
Harold ran a hand through his hair, frustration clear.
"I was just stating facts."
Jay stopped walking.
He turned with a polite, yet distant, smile.
"And that," he said, "is exactly the problem."
Harold clenched his jaw.
Jay continued, his tone quieter now.
"The Piao family doesn't need protection. They've got their own backing."
He glanced slightly to the side.
"But people like Garfield… and that kid earlier—Kael Everwyn? The one who opened the door."
Harold frowned. "What about him?"
"He's backed by major elite families," Jay said. "You think that makes him harmless?"
Harold scoffed. "Isn't he just… a pet?"
Jay hesitated, then looked at Ethan.
Ethan opened his mouth to explain—
Then stopped.
Something in his expression shifted.
Instead, he exhaled.
"I have a different suggestion," he said, ready to give Harold Jin a handout.
Harold looked at him.
"I have a task for you," Ethan continued, "I want you to determine whether your family qualifies to become a partial member, and presented to me."
He spoke evenly.
"Although, even with this deal, your family won't be on the same level as official partial-members of the elite like us." Ethan gestured at Jay and himself. "But your family will no longer be characterized as mere visitors in the elite circle unworthy of the elite's attention and respect."
"I don't need that." Harold didn't even hesitate.
Silence.
"My family can rise on its own." he added.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA" Jay burst out laughing, sharp, unrestrained sound leaving his mouth.
"That's funny," he said, wiping the corner of his eye. "You just got handed a way in… and you turned it down for pride?"
Harold's expression darkened.
"At least I have pride," he shot back, "instead of clinging to the Veyra family just to climb."
Jay's smile vanished.
Ethan tapped his shoulder lightly.
"Leave it," he said. "Not worth it."
Jay didn't move.
Then—
slowly—
he smiled again.
But this time, it didn't reach his eyes.
"You really don't get it," he said.
His voice dropped.
"You don't become a main elite through effort alone."
He took a step closer.
"You need resources. History. Recognition from every major elite family."
A pause.
"You'll never reach that level."
Harold stiffened.
"But," Jay continued, "you could've become a full elite."
He tilted his head.
"There's a difference."
"We're not main elites either." Ethan spoke up. "But we're backed by them."
Jay nodded in confirmation of Ethan's words.
"And that," Jay added, "makes us more dangerous than most actual elites."
"Because main elites don't support newcomers." He continued, "They eliminate competition."
Harold said nothing.
"If you become an elite without backing, you don't rise." Jay's tone sharpened. "You disappear."
"Months. Years. Maybe a generation if you're lucky."
He leaned slightly closer.
"The only exception?"
"Lydia Marques."
Harold's eyes flickered.
"Her family proved they could survive that position."
Jay straightened.
"Which is why they're the only non-main elite treated like one."
A pause.
"They even have the freedom to act against protected bloodlines."
Harold swallowed.
Jay's voice lowered further.
"But that kind of freedom comes with consequences."
"War-level consequences."
The silence stretched.
Then—
"So your family?" Jay said lightly. "This?" He gestured vaguely with his hands.
"This is your peak."
Harold's fists clenched so tightly that blood began to bead at his palm.
Jay noticed.
"So now," he added casually, "you've thrown away your one real chance."
He turned away. "No point crying about it."
Ethan glanced at Harold's hand.
"…You're bleeding."
Harold didn't respond.
Ethan reached into his pouch and tossed something toward him.
Harold caught it, flinching slightly.
Bandages.
He looked up.
Ethan had already turned away.
"Hurry up and deal with it," he said. "Whether you like it or not, you represent an elite in the eyes of others."
A pause.
"So act like it."
He added, almost as an afterthought,
"And also we still need you to lead."
Harold stared at the bandages for a moment.
Then—
"…I understand."
Quietly, he wrapped his hand.
Once finished, he returned the remaining gauze.
Then he stepped forward.
"Follow me."
He led the way.
Behind him—
Jay slowed his pace slightly, falling back beside Ethan.
"…You're getting soft," Jay muttered.
Ethan didn't look at him.
"Shut up."