Idle Money System

[I'm very sorry for not uploading consistently, from now on I will continue my uploads to not let all of down. Please forgive me.]

…

Johnson knows that even if the Prime Minister were present, it would be useless. He had heard that even the President and the government seemed to fear this family.

After an hour passed, there was still no call regarding the arrest of the boy, which clearly showed that the forces backing him were not to be taken lightly.

He also noticed that there appeared to be a cultivator among those who had died, but he did not know their identity, as he was merely an ordinary person holding a high-ranking position.

But his high rank was nothing compared to those people.

Johnson had experienced much and understood what a cultivator was. However, cultivators were extremely difficult to find, as they lived in places completely detached from this world.

He genuinely wondered how one of these powerful individuals ended up dead in this situation. At this point, the scope of the problem was already beyond his authority.

The phone on the table began to buzz, and he picked it up, placing it against his ear. After hearing the report, his expression grew grave as he set the phone down.

"The Department of Spiritual Regulation is actually making a move on this? Instead of arresting the kid, they even assisted in covering up the case," he murmured, unable to stop the numbness that spread through his entire body.

He had greatly underestimated the kid's background.

Even the Department of Spiritual Regulation a powerful, government-controlled agency tasked with maintaining balance between cultivators and the mortal world was involving itself.

This agency oversees spiritual activity, suppresses rogue cultivators, investigates disturbances, and ensures that no individual or sect threatens the peace of the nation.

Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

Elsewhere, in a large mansion, a man sat in a room where he had just received a message from Yuno, leaving him surprised.

"He actually became a cultivator? This is truly unexpected," Max muttered as he tapped the table with his fingers.

This truly left him in awe, as cultivators in this world were incredibly rare.

Even encountering a practitioner wandering in the mortal realm was often a matter of pure luck.

This rarity explained why hiring a grandmaster was already extremely expensive.

If the person were a cultivator, the cost would be significantly higher, since a cultivator was a being with magical abilities far beyond ordinary comprehension.

Max pondered what kind of treasures his son might have encountered.

He could accept it if it were merely basic strengthening techniques, like those used by martial artists.

Now, he was genuinely curious, but it remained nothing more than curiosity. Even if it were a divine treasure that transcended immortality itself, he would not grow interested in it.

He had lived for a long time, and only rare, extraordinary treasures could catch his attention. Moreover, it was his son's opportunity, so he did not covet it in the slightest.

"Well, I suppose teaching him about the cultivation world is already done. Next comes the unsealing, and after that, the inheritance," Max muttered in a low voice.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a young teenage girl appeared. She had long, flowing black hair that shimmered softly under the light, cascading past her waist like strands of silk.

Her delicate face carried a gentle demeanor, framed by straight bangs that brushed lightly against her eyebrows.

Her deep blue eyes held an air of innocence that made it difficult to look away.

She wore a dark dress with sheer, floral-patterned sleeves, the elegant lace providing a striking contrast to her youthful charm.

"Father, is big brother coming back?" the girl exclaimed with an excited voice as she ran toward her father.

Seeing her expression, Max simply smiled as she approached and stopped right in front of him.

"Yes, but he still carries some resentment in his heart and needs time to think it over. So for now, you won't be able to see him," Max responded gently.

"But Dad, it's been so long since I saw big brother. Is it possible to visit him?" the girl muttered, pleading softly.

"Layla, it's not that I don't want to..." Max began, but then paused as if recalling something.

"Well, if you really miss your big brother, I'll book you a flight. This time, you don't need to be enrolled in a school, since Alexander is now coming of age," Max said with a nod.

He agreed, knowing that his son cared deeply for his sister and would never treat her harshly.

Layla was the name of Alexander's little sister. Hearing the first part of her father's sentence, she felt happy and excited, but the latter part left her surprised.

"Do you want me to stop school? Doesn't that mean I can't hang out with my friends anymore?" she muttered in a low voice, a hint of sadness surfacing.

Max who was sharp as ever, heard her clearly even though it was barely a whisper.

"It's not that I don't allow you," he said calmly.

"It's just that, in this family, school isn't really a necessity. But if you still want to attend, then it's not a problem."

Hearing what his father said, Layla felt happy as she closed the distance and kissed his father's cheek filled with happiness.

Feeling the love of his daughter overwhelmed him with happiness. As a father, of course, he was deeply moved.

"Alright then, I'll give you just one week to prepare. Lena, I want you to accompany my daughter to make sure she's safe," he said firmly.

All of a sudden, a shadow blurred and appeared in the center of the room.

She stood tall, dressed in a form-fitting black outfit that clung to her curves like a second skin, part tactical gear and part stealth uniform.

Her presence was magnetic, dangerous, and utterly irresistible. Long, golden hair cascaded down in waves, wild yet flawless, framing a face sculpted like a goddess's.

High cheekbones, full crimson lips, and eyes like polished amber sharp, it was very alluring to look at.

"This servant obeys the master's words," she said as she kneeled, lowering her head in submission.

Seeing this, Layla quickly ran toward her and helped her stand upright.

"Sister Lena, why are you kneeling again? We're not some kind of royal family for you to do that. Look, we're sisters, so we're family. Kneeling is not acceptable, got it?" she said firmly, pouting a little.

Lena looked troubled, her expression solemn as she glanced at her master's face.

Seeing that he showed no sign of disapproval, she could only remain silent, her stance softening.

"I shall follow your word, young lady," she said to her with her lips quivering.

"Hey, you're calling me 'young lady' again. Just Layla is enough," she said with a sharp look.

Lena's eyes trembled slightly as she glanced at Max's face and, seeing no objection, turned her attention back to Layla, who was now hugging her arm.

"As you wish, Miss Layla," Lena replied softly.

Hearing the respectful tone again, Layla couldn't help but sigh. When her brother had left, Lena had been introduced by her father as her personal bodyguard.

Lena was around twenty years old, five years older than Layla, which made Layla naturally see her as an older sister.

Even though she had told her countless times to drop the formalities, Lena remained stubborn.

Just like a robot programmed to follow some protocols, no matter how often Layla tried to convince her over the years.

"Is Father really that scary that you have to glance at him before replying?" Layla wondered, looking over at her father, who stood there with a gentle smile on his face as he watched them.

"He looks like a normal old man to me," Layla thought deeply, seeing no signs of anything unusual.

"Alright, Dad, me and Sister Lena are just going to have some fun first before we leave," she said cheerfully, then grabbed Lena's arm and pulled her toward the door, excitement lighting up her face at the thought of the coming days.