Forced Viper

Once upon a time, he had stood there—watching. Surrounded by faces, all smiles. Fake smiles, of course. In his eyes, most of these people were just heirs to old money, their last names carrying more weight than their actual personalities. Their estates? Too pristine, almost too good, like the universe had glitched and given them the VIP package at birth.

Their kids? The crème de la crème, golden spawns of nepotism, always leading the crowd like it was their birthright.

And yet—there he was.

Standing among them now, among those auras that could make even divinities pause, recalculate, and maybe rethink their existence. But he wasn't backing down. No hesitation. No doubt. He radiated confidence, the kind only a self-made man could wear. Like a gold medalist who had spent years grinding in silence, only for life to finally whisper SUCCESS in his ear.

Emanating royalty!

And now? Everything was his.