103: Chapter 103 Noah Sackler

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"Elias, be careful. Don't let a big fish pull you in."

On a secluded private island in California waters, a modern manor built of white marble and glass basked in the brilliant California sunshine.

A three-acre botanical garden spread across terraced platforms, planted with rare species gathered from across the globe; it seemed all the world's splendor could be found here.

A private pier sat upon the golden coast.

Watching his great-grandson fishing, the old man sitting in a specialized wheelchair shifted his clouded eyes and spoke with a hint of affection.

"Don't worry, Great-Grandfather, I'm very strong. I'll catch one and have Aunt Martha make fish soup for your dinner." The little boy named Elias, wearing a yellow T-shirt, stared unblinkingly at the float with his small eyes, responding without turning his head.

As the youngest in the family and the one most doted upon by his great-grandfather, Elias always found it easy to win the old man's favor.

"Good, good, good. I look forward to it."

The old man nodded slightly, a kind smile appearing on his wrinkled face. Looking at the young figure, there was longing in his eyes, but even more so, a sense of relief.

If not for the two cold-faced bodyguards standing behind him, it would have been a truly heartwarming scene.

Noah Sackler.

A name that sounded full of prestige. Within American financial circles, this name had once echoed throughout an entire era. Eighty years ago, he had charged into San Francisco with only 200 dollars, starting as a peddler of counterfeit medicine. Relying on a precise grasp of the market pulse and near-manic boldness, he expanded against the tide during several financial crises. After many ups and downs, he established a massive commercial empire spanning pharmaceuticals, finance, and real estate, becoming one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the Americas.

The shadows of this family could be found in both the political and military spheres of the Americas.

In 1956, Sackler Pharmaceuticals even launched a revolutionary painkiller—Anshining!

Rumor had it that even the Freemasons, the mysterious organization hidden within the world, had once invited Noah to join.

But now, Noah was merely an octogenarian sitting in a wheelchair, his hair sparse and even eating requiring extreme effort. The outside world had once even believed he was already dead.

He had reached the limits of the human body.

Noah looked somewhat absentmindedly at the sapphire ring on his withered finger; it was engraved with the Sackler Family crest, representing the family's supreme power.

He must be 116 years old this year. To live until now, he had long since trampled all morality and law underfoot, but not long ago, the top doctors told him that there were no means left in the world to extend Noah's life.

It was time to let go.

Noah thought this way; when the time came, he would hand the family over to his youngest grandson—Elias's father. After all, he had been managing it for the past dozen years, and his decisive actions would allow him to continue leading the Sackler Family.

Wasn't this exactly what he had expected when he sent Elias to his side to curry favor?

He would announce this good news to him in a few days. Noah felt a sense of relief at the thought. As for his eldest son, whom he had once greatly admired—who told him to be so useless as to not even outlive an old man like himself?

Noah's gaze gradually moved away from the ring toward the shimmering sea in the distance. The afterglow of the setting sun spilled across the water like a layer of golden silk. Noah took a deep breath, and the salty, damp sea breeze rushed into his lungs, giving him a long-lost sense of comfort.

This luxury manor, named the Tears of Atropos, had been completed 40 years ago. Back then, he could still walk freely on this beach and enjoy every pleasure.

Unfortunately, the Goddess of Life had not looked upon him with pity.

It didn't matter; he no longer cared.

Noah looked kindly at Elias, who was frustrated because the bait had been washed away by the seawater. This manor, which occupied the entire island, had one feature that Noah valued most: safety.

The rise of the Sackler Family was not without its share of darkness and bloodshed.

Spending a fortune to buy this small island was one of the things Noah was most proud of in his life. The island bordered the Pacific Ocean to the north, while to the southwest lay the famous San Diego Naval Base, which was also the home base of the American Navy's Sea Lion Special Forces.

In these 40 years, no accidents had ever occurred at this manor. Looking at the nearly twenty-kilometer coastline, Noah believed that in the final moments of his life, this place would remain the safest sanctuary.

"Elias, it's getting late. We should go back. Fish again tomorrow," Noah called out gently.

Elias looked at the float on the sea with some reluctance and held up three fingers. "Great-Grandfather, I need three more minutes. I'll catch a big fish very soon."

Seeing the boy's pouting, competitive face, Noah could only smile and agree.

Three minutes later, nothing had happened.

"Great-Grandfather, I'm sorry, I didn't catch anything." Elias looked at the sea and shook his head in disappointment. He didn't persist further, or his great-grandfather might get angry.

"Elias, as a descendant of the Sackler Family, you must learn to accept failure. But remember, a truly strong person will stand up again after failing. I said the same thing to your father."

Noah coughed, and the bodyguard behind him immediately stepped forward to help the boy pack his things.

At that moment, the float on the sea suddenly sank.

The boy jumped up in excitement, grabbing the fishing rod and pulling back, his small face turning red. "Great-Grandfather! A fish is on the hook! And it's a big one!"

"Go for it, little Elias," Noah chuckled.

The fishing rod was bent into a C-shape.

The boy was pulled into a stumble, but fortunately, the wooden railing in front gave him the strength to brace himself.

"Great-Grandfather, this fish is so strong, I can't pull it up!" Elias looked at the dark shadow beneath the water with excitement on his face.

"Uncle Ballmer, come help me."

"Certainly, Master Elias." The large bodyguard who had just walked over couldn't help but smile at the scene; this boy was truly likable.

The bodyguard applied force to the fishing rod, and the dark shadow beneath the water immediately surfaced.

Full of joy, Elias eagerly leaned over to see what kind of fish he had caught, but once he saw what it was, the smile instantly froze on his face.

What was on the surface was not a fish, but a hand—a black, dripping wet human hand.

Swish—!

A crossbow bolt dripping with water burst from beneath the surface, accurately piercing the center of Ballmer's brow. The bodyguard's tall body stood frozen in place as blood gurgled out along the shaft of the bolt, dripping onto Elias's youthful face.

The other bodyguard had just noticed the abnormality, but before he could act, an identical bolt fired from a crossbow accurately pierced his forehead.

Terror filled his entire body.

The boy Elias finally remembered to scream, but a palm reaching out from behind tightly covered his mouth and nose.

In an instant.

More figures wearing black diving suits emerged on the surface of the sea.