Leon stood by the bay windows of the London townhouse, the early autumn rain tracing thin lines down the glass. The city was alive with sirens and chatter, red double-deckers trudging past rows of people glued to their phones.
None of them knew that the most downloaded game in the world had been made here—right in this quiet room.
His SP balance updated again.
SP: 52,814
But something else was gnawing at him now. The game's impact was spreading. The coverage was evolving from novelty to obsession. Journalists were beginning to cross-reference dates, data, and names. Forums had started digging into UmbraDawn's registration trail.
The system held firm online. No identity leaks. No IP tracing.
But the real world wasn't so easily firewalled.
He knew what came next: people would start looking physically. Where was this company based? Where was this game made? Someone would guess London. Eventually, someone would guess him.
It was time to move.
He'd always intended to. America was where the real battleground was. The tech monopolies, the political fractures, the unregulated chaos—it was exactly the environment his mission needed. Corruption was more overt, the media louder, the ambition endless. But it also meant he could hide in plain sight.
He sat down and opened a fresh document.
Subject: University Relocation Proposal
He didn't address it to anyone. Not yet. Just mapped out the structure: academic ambition, access to engineering programs at Caltech and MIT, proximity to global tech headquarters, and a need to build a future on his own terms.
He wouldn't mention the system. Wouldn't explain why he needed to go.
But he would make it convincing.
SYSTEM: Strategic Relocation Assessment – USA: HIGH RISK / HIGH OPPORTUNITY
Recommend: Low-profile academic migration. Asset management advised.
He saved the draft.
Tomorrow, he would bring it up to his parents. Not with drama or rebellion. Just cold logic, the kind they respected. He'd emphasize the educational value, the career potential.
And they'd nod.
Because even if they didn't understand his mission, they'd never stood in his way.
Leon glanced at the map pinned beside his desk. A red thread now stretched between London and Los Angeles.
The bridge was forming.
Soon, he'd cross it.