Mateo Garcia

By 11 o'clock, the atmosphere in the mansion was tense but purposeful. Everyone had gathered in the expansive living room downstairs, a space that felt oddly quiet despite the presence of so many people.

The family had been through so much over the past few days, and now it was time to face the consequences of their late father's final wishes.

Tae-jin, as the second eldest, took it upon himself to break the silence. He cleared his throat and leaned forward, hands resting on his knees as he addressed the group.

"Alright, everyone. I'll get to the matter directly without going any roundabout," Tae-jin began, his voice authoritative yet not without a hint of weariness. "We all know the most important condition in Dad's will—the vacations. Every two months, we have to go on a three-day family vacation. Six vacations in total. Now, since our eldest brother isn't here, even if we host one vacation by turns, there will be two remaining."

He paused, his gaze flicking over the room, but no one spoke up. Sungjun couldn't help but notice how tense his siblings looked. Despite their wealth and status, it was clear that the reality of the will's demands weighed heavily on all of them.

"So," Tae-jin continued, "I'll take responsibility for hosting an additional vacation. I'll pay for them, no problem. But we still need someone to step up for the remaining one. Anyone willing to volunteer?"

"Hyung," Sungjun called out, and everyone's eyes were immediately drawn to him. Sungjun's eyes met his second brother before he spoke up, his voice calm yet firm. "I'll take care of all of them. No need to waste time debating."

The room fell silent at his words. Sungjun could feel the eyes of everyone on him, some surprised, some skeptical. Seol Ah's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "You?" she asked, her tone a mix of surprise and doubt. "You want to handle all six vacations?"

Sungjun nodded. "First of all, I'm the least busy of all of you. It makes sense. Secondly, I don't want another unnecessary argument about who should take that additional piece of responsibility and all." He sat back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. It wasn't that he was overly eager to take on the responsibility, but he could see it was inevitable. His siblings were too consumed by their own lives to truly care for the task, and someone had to step up.

Sae-ri, sitting at the far end of the room, didn't look convinced. She exchanged glances with her husband, Jihyun, before speaking up. Her tone was kind but firm. "Sungjun-ah, the purpose of these vacations is to bring us together, not to treat them like just another obligation." After a brief pause, she added, "The burden of responsibility shouldn't fall solely on the youngest, either." Her voice was a little sharper now as she turned toward the others. "I know you're all busy, believe me, no one's schedule is tighter than mine this year, but we are all capable of handling this. We'll plan the vacations in order of age. What do you all say?"

Sungjun clenched his jaw, a slight tension in his shoulders, but he didn't waver. He knew his sister meant well, but the reality of the situation was that no one else was stepping up.

Ji-hyun replied softly, nodding in agreement. "I agree. It's the least we can do to honor our dad."

There was a moment of hesitation before Seol-ah looked at her husband, Tae-jin. "Yeobo, I think it is a good idea," she said, her voice softening. Tae-jin thought a bit and nodded. "Alright. Let's do it alternately in the order from eldest to youngest."

Sungjun watched everyone calmly. He opened his mouth to respond but then stopped himself. This wasn't the time to argue. "Fine," he said curtly, standing up. "If that's how you want to handle it, I won't argue."

As the conversation turned back to the specifics of the vacations, Sungjun excused himself and walked away from the living room, his thoughts swirling. He needed some air.

Outside, the cool night air hit him like a slap to the face. He walked slowly across the large front yard, away from the mansion. There was no point in lingering inside with everyone else. They were already treating this family reunion like a business transaction, both sister in laws even secretly joined hands to snatch the entire inheritance for themselves.

He stopped for a moment, looking up at the night sky. "For Jiyeon…"

*

Somewhere deep in the Andes Mountains of Patagonia, Argentina, an underground research facility buzzed with a mechanical hum. Bright, sterile lights illuminated the vast laboratory, casting long shadows on the reinforced steel walls.

From a raised observation deck, a bald man in a sharp black suit stood with his hands clasped behind his back. Through the reinforced glass, he watched the scene below unfold with quiet intensity. His name was Mateo Garcia, and in this entire region of Patagonia shared by Chile and Argentina, his word was law.

Below him, a humanoid figure moved with inhuman precision, tearing through a squadron of combat drones in close-quarters combat. Every strike, every counter, every calculated movement was performed with surgical efficiency. The android—Prototype Model no.224 aka G.O.L.I.A.T.H. (Ground Offensive Lethal Intelligent Assault Tactical Hardware)—was no mere killing machine. It was an apex predator, built for war.

A researcher in a white coat approached Mateo, tablet in hand, an apple pencil tapping lightly against the screen. His voice carried a restrained excitement as he delivered his report, "Mr. President, Number 224 has exceeded every performance parameter we set. Reflexes, speed, power—it's off the charts. It can predict movement faster than any top-tier soldier, process combat scenarios in milliseconds, and the narrow AI running the prototype can even hack into supercomputers."

Mateo didn't respond immediately. His cold, calculating gaze remained fixed on the android as it dismantled the final drone with an effortless twist of its arm. Sparks flew as metal crumpled. The fight was over in mere seconds.

"Impressive," Mateo finally said, his voice smooth and measured. "Then we're ready to sell?"

The researcher hesitated for just a fraction of a second before nodding. "Yes, sir. We're prepared to move forward."

Mateo slowly turned his head toward the man, his expression unreadable. "Earlier, you said about hacking into supercomputers. But what about quantum computers? Can it hack into one? What is the probability?"

The researcher stiffened slightly. He knew this question was coming. Swallowing, he adjusted his grip on the tablet and chose his words carefully. "That would be… next to impossible, sir. Like less than 0.0001%. Quantum encryption operates on principles we haven't yet cracked. To breach a quantum system, we'd need an AI that operates on a quantum level itself. That's still beyond our reach."

Mateo's expression darkened. A rare flicker of frustration crossed his face as he turned fully toward the researcher. "Don't give me that bullsh*t. We've had the codes for a quantum-based AGI for over a decade. I've poured hundreds of millions of dollars into this project every single year. And yet, not only have you failed to build a quantum AI, you haven't even managed to construct a classical AGI." His voice, though controlled, carried a dangerous edge.

The researcher swallowed hard before responding, "Sir, the codes we received were incomplete. No one from the original team is alive, and they left no records behind. To this day, I still don't understand how they even managed to create such a program fifteen years ago. The only one who might have known was The Architect, but the Russian government completely erased his identity—even from their most secure databases."

Mateo's jaw tightened, but he said nothing. The researcher, sensing the tension, quickly added, "However, I promise you, sir, we are close to a breakthrough. Once we successfully build a quantum AI, it will be able to infiltrate any network, even locate another quantum AI—provided the latter has interacted with a satellite or a quantum computer."

Mateo exhaled sharply through his nose and gave a curt nod. "Then work harder."

Without another word, the researcher turned on his heel and descended from the observation deck. Mateo shifted his attention back to the scene down below.

The air in the testing room was thick with the scent of burned circuitry. The android stood amidst the wreckage of the drones and robotic body parts and guns, its frame riddled with damage. One of its arms had been completely torn off, sparks sputtering from the exposed joints. Dents and deep gashes marred its once-pristine armor.

Mateo stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he examined the damage. His fingers twitched slightly, betraying his irritation. "It is ready, my ass. Look at that mess. It needs more fine-tuning before I put it up for sale."

The android, despite its battered state, lifted its head and locked its glowing eyes onto him. Mateo clenched his fist, "If we only had that chip, we would have ruled this world by now."