"He's not here?" Lenox lifted an eyebrow as he looked around the mansion.
"No. He came back after lunch but immediately left after," Cristoff said. He looked at Lenox's company. "Do you need me to prepare anything, young master?"
"Right…" Lenox said. He was wondering why Matthew disappeared after lunchtime. It turned out he actually came back home. Then, does that mean his previous assumption about him preparing a gift for Catherine was right?
"Can you please prepare dinner for my friends?" Lenox said. "Right, it's Cathy's birthday, so it would be nice if you could ask the kitchen to prepare something special. She likes strawberries."
In the past, Matthew already asked the kitchen to prepare something, so everything would always be lavish. Lenox expected Matthew to do the same this time. He only said it in front of everyone to make them think that it was he who asked the servants for this celebration.
"As always, Lenox knows how to make Cathy happy," May said. "Cathy likes home-cooked food because her mother used to be a chef. That Matthew would never understand this."
"You shouldn't say something like that," Cathy lowered her gaze. "Let's stop talking about him."
"My apologies," May quickly apologized. "But Mr. Cristoff, can you also prepare that strawberry cake that Cathy likes so much? The one that Lenox always brings her?"
"Right, of course," Cristoff only smiled. "However, since we do not have a lot of time, we can only prepare what we can with the amount of ingredients available."
Lenox froze. "What?" He immediately wondered if Matthew had forgotten to ask earlier. That's impossible, he thought.
"This is a sudden celebration, so… we were not able to prepare the ingredients in advance," Cristoff said.
"Lenox, what does he mean?" Elisa asked.
Lenox ignored her question. "Let's just do that, then. Cook whatever you can." He never told them anything because Matthew always did this in the past! This time, he expected him to do it, too. Did he forget? Or… was he still upset?
He turned towards Catherine, Elisa, and May. "Shall we go to the game room and play some games while we wait for our other classmates?"
Naturally, Matthew didn't know what was happening at the mansion. He had just given the tall and bulky guard his ID, proving that he was already eighteen to gain access to the building.
"This place looks… suspicious," Ottep said quietly as he looked around the dimly lit hallway. "Is this some underground Casino?"
Matthew didn't stop walking. "You're new, I get it. But do your job right, and you'll get a bonus by the end of the month," he said. Then he glanced back at him. "If I'm impressed, I'll double your salary. Do you know what I'm talking about, Ottep?"
Ottep's eyes lit up. He gave Matthew a thumbs-up, then made a zipping motion across his mouth and nodded twice.
Matthew nodded back and continued walking.
Still quick on the uptake, he thought. Some things really don't change.
He mumbled to himself, low enough only he could hear. "In the past, you saved my life. Took a bullet meant for me… and died right there on the sidewalk. Not this time."
The hallway turned left, and another door came into view. A tall, broad man stood in front of it. His uniform was black, clean, and fitted with a silver badge on the arm. He didn't blink when Matthew approached.
"The minimum to enter is ten million," the guard said, arms crossed.
Matthew pulled out a slim black card from his jacket. "This should be enough."
The guard took the card and slid it into a reader mounted on the wall. The machine beeped once, then displayed the balance. The man glanced at the screen and stepped aside without another word.
Matthew walked in.
It was dark inside. The air smelled faintly of smoke and perfume. He blinked, letting his eyes adjust as the door shut behind him.
Ottep followed quietly. No questions.
Matthew paused in front of another door. This one was different—no guards, no scanners. Just a wall-mounted rack lined with strange masks. Silver, gold, bone-white, black… each one crafted with sharp lines and hollow eyes.
He reached out, grabbed a black half-mask for himself, and handed a silver one to Ottep.
"Put it on. Don't speak unless I say so."
Ottep nodded again and slipped the mask on.
Matthew did the same, then pushed open the door.
The noise hit them immediately—laughter, clinking glasses, muffled music, and the occasional shout. A crowd. The air was heavier here.
He stepped through without hesitation.
This is where it all began, he mumbled to himself. He needed this place if he wanted to change his future.
Inside, the space opened up into a wide, circular room. The center was lowered slightly, like a pit, surrounded by tiered steps where people could stand or sit. A single man stood at the center, cutting into a rough, unpolished stone with a handheld rotary tool. Sparks flew every few seconds. Around him, a few small groups watched with folded arms or curious eyes.
There weren't many people. Maybe a dozen at most. Most were dressed casually—rich enough not to care how they looked. A couple of staff members stood near the walls, monitoring quietly. It wasn't peak time. That would come later, once the sun set.
One man whistled as a sliver of green shimmered from the stone being cut.
"Jade," someone muttered nearby. "High chance."
Another man shook his head. "It's too light. Could be low-grade."
The cheers came when the core split, revealing a thick streak of vivid green.
"Grade A!" the cutter announced.
A few people clapped. One man immediately called someone on his phone.
Matthew barely looked. He kept walking, moving along the edge of the pit until he reached a hallway on the far side. There was a plain sign above it: Processing & Retail Zone.
He entered.
This part of the building was quieter, but more spacious. Long rows of glass display counters stretched across the floor. Storefronts, each marked with its own signage. Some simple, others flashy with LED-lit borders. One had a giant red dragon decal on the window. Another had nothing but a handwritten name: Ying's Original Cuts.
Buyers roamed between the shops. Some carried notepads. One man had a digital scanner. A woman argued quietly with a store owner over the price of a dull-looking boulder.
Matthew walked past slowly, scanning the stores and the rocks stacked in glass boxes, crates, and reinforced displays.
Most of the stones looked identical to anyone unfamiliar—gray, dusty, and lumpy. But Matthew had learned. In his last life, this was where he made his own first ten million in one night. And lost twice as much the following week.
A short man in a blue suit spotted him and hurried over from one of the nearby booths.
"Young master, you have good eyes! You came at a good time," the man said, wiping his forehead. "I just received a fresh batch from Yunnan province—look, this one came from the Laotian border, top-grade mine. Only twenty-four hours off the truck."
Matthew glanced at the chunk of rock the man pointed to. It was shaped like a loaf of bread, rough edges, with a strip of green at the corner that was too clean to be natural.
"Dyed," Matthew said.
The man paused. Then laughed and lowered his voice. "You're good. That one's for the tourists. Come, I'll show you the real batch. Follow me."
Matthew walked behind the man toward the back of the shop. Ottep stayed close behind him.
The man unlocked a sliding panel and pulled out a tray of smaller stones—each one tagged and numbered. "These came from the old pit in Myanmar. Not from the new mines. Harder to find, more stable quality. I'll give you good price."
Matthew picked one up, turning it over in his hand.
He mumbled to himself, "In the past… it was too late for me to realize that this other world existed. And when I did… I skipped this shop. Thought it was too small." He looked at the vendor. "What's the best one?" he asked.
The man smiled and slid a dark gray stone from the bottom of the tray. "This one. No one's brave enough to bet on it. But it has weight. Good color on the edge. Could be jade, could be tourmaline. Maybe nothing. That's why the price is low. Want to try?"