Chapter 11: Greg – The Fallen King

The golden goblet trembled slightly in Greg's grasp as he raised it high above his head. His lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he gazed upon the bloodstained arena below.

"Let the game begin!" he roared, his voice booming across the coliseum.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy, chanting his name, their excitement feeding his ego.

But just as he brought the goblet to his lips, a knight approached.

"My King," the knight said, kneeling before him. His armored hand extended forward, holding something small yet gleaming in the sunlight.

Greg's gaze sharpened as he reached for it.

A golden necklace.

The metal felt cool against his palm, but his chest burned as his eyes locked onto the engraved name.

ETHAN.

The world around him seemed to tilt.

Greg's fingers clenched the necklace so tightly his knuckles turned white. His pulse thundered in his ears.

His voice was low, dangerous. "Where did you get this?"

The knight hesitated. "It belonged to a contestant, my King."

Greg's breath hitched.

A contestant…? He's here?

His vision blurred, and suddenly, his mind was no longer in the present. The arena, the throne, the cheering crowd— they all faded.

And then—the past crashed into him like a storm.

The Life Before – A Man of Selfish Ambition

Greg was no tycoon or great leader.

He was just another man looking for an opportunity.

And he found one.

A company was hiring. It wasn't glamorous, but it paid well enough, and Greg didn't ask questions.

What he didn't know—what no one told him—was that this very job belonged to someone else just days before.

Aron.

A man he had never met.

A man who had worked there for years—until they let him go.

Greg didn't care. He was just happy to have work. While he signed his contract and got his first paycheck, Aron was packing up his desk, wondering how he would feed his family.

But Greg never knew.

And he never cared to ask.

Not until everything fell apart.

The Fall – From Comfort to Chaos

Greg's life spiraled months later when a scandal surfaced.

He had always been reckless—juggling multiple affairs, living as if the world owed him pleasure.

But this time, he slipped.

His wife found out.

The confrontation was brutal.

At first, Greg laughed it off, thinking he could charm his way out of it.

But then, she showed him the proof.

Photos. Messages. Recordings.

His entire web of lies unraveled in an instant.

His wife didn't scream. She didn't beg.

She simply said: "You're going to lose everything."

And she was right.

Divorce. Lawsuits. Scandal.

The company, unwilling to deal with the backlash, fired him.

The very job he had taken from someone else—gone.

He lost his home. His status. His money.

And finally, his freedom.

Because when debts piled up, when there was nowhere left to turn—

Greg made a deal with the wrong people.

And they threw him into a prison where men like him didn't last long.

There was no escape.

And the prisoners knew it.

Night after night, they tormented him.

They whispered in his ear.

Told him things he didn't want to hear.

"You had everything, and you threw it away."

"Do you think the people you stepped on will ever forgive you?"

"You deserve worse."

Then one night—

As he lay on the cold stone floor, too weak to fight, too broken to care—

A breath ghosted against his ear.

A voice.

Soft. Familiar.

"It will happen again tomorrow."

His eyes snapped open.

A group of prisoners surrounded him. Watching. Waiting.

Then—darkness.

Greg felt the blows first. Fists, feet, pain from every direction. His ribs screamed in protest, his face wet with blood. The laughter faded into echoes as the world blurred.

Then—silence.

The next time he opened his eyes, he expected to be in a hospital. He expected the fluorescent lights, the sterile air.

Instead—

He woke up in a massive bed, draped in the finest silk.

Sunlight streamed through towering stained-glass windows. Golden chandeliers cast warm light upon the grand room.

Greg sat up, his fingers pressing against the soft sheets.

This wasn't a hospital.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, his body still aching from the assault. Where was he?

A knock on the door. It opened before he could answer.

A row of servants—maids, butlers, and armored guards—bowed low.

Their voices rang in unison.

"Good morning, King Greg."

His breath caught in his throat.

A kingdom. A powerful kingdom.

And he—its ruler.

His nightmare had only just begun.

To Be Continued…