Extra's Ascent

Eric stood outside, waiting, casually munching on a bag of chips with irritating nonchalance.

"So... any family? Got kids, maybe?" he asked, glancing sideways at the two guards.

As usual, they gave no reply. Eric didn't seem to mind this time.

"Take it from someone who does, don't," he said with an almost theatrical shake of the chip bag.

He paused, studying their faces for any reaction. Nothing. Still, he carried on, undeterred.

"Don't get me wrong, kids are amazing. The absolute best. I've got two. Both enrolled in the top mystic academy this continent has to offer," he said, puffing his chest with pride.

He grinned broadly. "Eldora Institute. One got in at sixteen, the other at fifteen. Can you believe that?" he asked, biting into another chip.

It was easy to note, that he brought up the kids matter for no other reason aside to gloat.

No response? That struck a nerve. Not a serious one at least.

At the mention of Eldora, the guards flinched, subtle, but enough to catch Eric's sharp eye. Their stoicism faltered, even if just for a split second.

Eric hummed thoughtfully, fingers frozen midair with a chip hanging between them.

"Alright, folks. Guess this is where we part ways," he said, suddenly serious.

He let the chip bag slip from his hand to the floor, straightened up, and rolled his shoulders one side, then the other. Something had shifted. The guards, previously statuesque, now watched him closely. A faint unease crept into their expressions.

Then without warning, Eric's eyes flared to life.

Silver irises blazed, and in their centre, a pupil shaped like a clover… but not just any clover. A two-leafed clover, glowing with mystic energy.

The guards reacted instantly, instincts kicking in like alarm bells ringing too late.

But by then, it was already over.

Eric moved.

One moment, he stood casually stretching. The next, he blurred from sight. By the time their minds registered his absence, their bodies had already been slammed into the thick doors behind them, shattering the frame. They collapsed like felled trees, limbs splayed awkwardly, strength drained in a heartbeat.

Inside the room, he called out, straining his posture after the forced entry.

"You called, boss?"

Seated calmly amidst a ring of hostile figures, Ramprandt looked up without breaking his composed posture.

"As a matter of fact, I did," he replied coolly.

Across the room, Sebastian's eyes narrowed, landing on Eric who had just bulldozed his way inside like a force of nature.

The entire room tensed, occupants drawing on whatever courage or power they had left. It's not every day you meet an average-looking man with enough power to break through a door, all the while pushing past two guards bulkier and heavier looking than he is.

Everyone except Ramprandt. He remained collected, serene, as if he'd merely invited a guest to tea.

"Geez, boss. What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into this time?" Eric said with a smirk. Despite being outnumbered, he looked more amused than concerned.

"Don't be too hard on me. It's your classic business-deal-gone-sideways scenario," Ramprandt explained, tone even.

Sebastian exploded, pointing a furious hand at Eric. "What the hell is going on, Dravin?! What is your chauffeur doing barging into my room like this?!"

Ramprandt tilted his head, voice still polite but now layered with venom. "That depends, Mr. Sebastian. He could be leaving if you were still honouring our agreement. Otherwise…" He gestured toward Eric. "You're about to find out why he barged in on his own terms."

It was a threat, thinly veiled but unmistakable.

Sebastian clenched his jaw. "Are you insane? He's one man! One mystic! While I have here…" He spread his arms theatrically, sweeping across the room. "A lot. I have a lot. What can one chauffeur possibly do against all this?"

Ramprandt leaned back slightly. "You heard the man. Do your thing."

Ideally, Ramprandt preferred diplomacy. He always did. But when his associates opted for betrayal instead of negotiation, he wasn't above retaliation. A business partner reneging on a deal simply because he thought he held the advantage? That, he couldn't abide.

And he didn't have to, not with Eric around.

Sebastian gave the signal. Eric had to go first. Only then could they return to handling Ramprandt.

A towering man among the group stepped forward, confident, clearly underestimating his target.

That confidence shattered a moment later as he charged Eric only to crumple mid-stride, collapsing backwards with a skull-cracking thud against the polished floor.

Eric didn't move much. He hadn't even raised a hand.

"So… who's next?" he asked, eyes still glowing with that terrifying clovered gleam.

A ripple of uncertainty spread through the room. The mystics among them hesitated, glancing at one another. Then, as if a silent agreement was made, they all surged forward with the chronic belief of togetherness.

They came at him in droves, combining strength, speed, and numbers. Their strategy? Overwhelm. Crush him with sheer force and coordination. It was a good plan on paper.

But Eric wasn't just another mystic.

The second attacker fell just as quickly as the first. So did the third. The fourth barely made it within striking distance. The fifth didn't even get to swing.

Panic began to replace determination.

Some among them had trained in mana enhancement, a skill allowing one to boost physical prowess using mana stored within. Eric was using the same. But the difference in their mastery levels was vast.

Then there was his ocular ability, the Two-Clover Eye.

With it, Eric could perceive energy flows, track motion from multiple perspectives, and analyze weak points in real time. It was as though time slowed just for him.

One after another, they dropped. Bodies strewn across the marble floor like discarded dolls. Groans of pain, laboured breathing, and twitching limbs were all that remained.

In the end, three people were left standing: Eric Aldaman the calm in the storm. Dravin Ramprandt, still adjusting his cufflinks as if nothing had happened. And finally, Sebastian.

He hadn't moved. He couldn't. He sat frozen in his chair, eyes wide, the colour drained from his face.

Ramprandt rose, dusted his already-pristine coat, and walked over.

"Here you go," he said, handing Sebastian his tablet. "I need your signature. Now."

On the screen, the contract glowed. At the bottom, a blank space awaited electronic confirmation via stylus.

Sebastian's hand trembled as he took the pen, but he didn't hesitate. He signed.

"I'll send it over once I've made the adjustments," Ramprandt muttered.

Then, as though remembering something, he raised his head. "Oh, and it'll be as you want. Only… I take the bigger cut. You take the leftovers. I trust you're fine with that?"

Ramprandt's gaze hardened. "No objections, or is there," he said coldly.

"N-No… None at all," Sebastian stammered.

He snatched the tablet from his grip and turned to leave.

"Next time you want to deal, deal fairly."

As they exited, Eric chuckled, falling into step beside his boss.

"So, boss… Does this mean I finally get a raise?"So Eric Aldaman mused, jestingly as he headed out with Dravin Ramprandt safe and sound.

This was... Is a telltale on the lives of two men? Dravin Ramprandt, a businessman with a daughter complex, and Eric Aldaman, a battle-hardened father of two trying to navigate life in a foreign land.

But for now, it remains paused as the story shifts to the point of view of Eldora Institute and its doings.