If Maximus and his family had been cursed with endless misfortune, the Stern Family stood on the opposite end of the spectrum, blessed with an almost absurd amount of luck. Their legacy stretched back generations, rooted deeply in the history of a particular piece of land they had owned, a modest property that just happened to include a natural spring.
Decades earlier, they'd sold the land and its precious spring to a company, securing not only a massive upfront sum but lifelong royalties from every bottle of water sold. The Stern Spring Water brand quickly became a household name nationwide, a condition carefully written into their lucrative deal.
But even this monumental success was merely the foundation of their fortune. Leveraging the incredible wealth from the spring, the Sterns dove headfirst into the tech world, becoming angel investors in promising startups. Almost every venture they touched flourished, multiplying their wealth exponentially and continuously.
Soon, the Stern Family founded their own venture capital firm, dedicated entirely to identifying and supporting startups with the potential for immense growth. Their investments seemed infallible, and their fortune ballooned dramatically year after year. Eventually, their influence spread far beyond technology. They invested in gaming companies, hospitals, pharmaceuticals, life insurance firms, entertainment industries, anywhere there was significant money to be made, the Sterns had a stake.
Now, the Stern Family wasn't just one of the richest families in the nation, they were arguably among the most powerful, wielding influence in nearly every profitable industry imaginable. Their empire spanned the globe, influencing markets, politics, and even public opinion.
Maximus's mind was spinning as he lay silently in his hospital bed. It can't be… Not that Stern Family. Stern is a common name, right? he thought desperately, attempting to reassure himself.
He'd been awake for hours now, yet he hadn't dared open his eyes fully. Although his fingers twitched with newfound strength and he felt sure he could open his eyes at any moment, the unfamiliar voices referring to him as "Max Stern" had left him anxious. So instead, he waited patiently until silence filled the room.
Once the voices finally vanished, he cautiously opened one eye, glancing around the room. Crisp white walls surrounded him, with intricate, artistic wave-like patterns decorating them. Even the food trays nearby were meticulously arranged, resembling dishes from a Michelin-starred restaurant.
Seriously, do people think fancy rooms heal better? The things rich people waste money on, Maximus scoffed silently.
Summoning his strength, he swung his legs off the bed, his muscles weak and trembling beneath him as he stood. Despite his frail state, he had urgent business to handle. Fortunately, the luxurious hospital room included a private bathroom—exactly where he needed to go first.
He stepped inside, sighing with relief as he finally emptied his bladder. "Ahh," he exhaled softly, "I'm convinced there's nothing better in the world than this."
After finishing, he quickly moved onto his next critical task. He stepped toward the mirror, nervously examining his reflection. His fingers reached out, tugging gently at his own cheek, confirming what he'd feared most.
This is real. This is absolutely, undeniably real. I'm in someone else's body.
Every doubt vanished instantly, leaving him stunned and confused. Judging by the lingering pain, this was certainly no dream.
How did this even happen? Did some mystical force grant my wish? Was there some magic genie hiding in that lake? The idea of reincarnation flickered through his mind. It was a concept vaguely familiar from his mother's side of the family, usually reincarnation meant returning as another creature or starting anew without memories. But Maximus remembered everything vividly, especially the brutal betrayal that had ended his previous life.
Now, staring back at him from the mirror was the unfamiliar face of a teenager, around eighteen years old. The boy had striking features, a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a well-proportioned nose, neither too prominent nor too subtle. Despite his confusion, Maximus found himself impressed by his new appearance.
But there were drawbacks. The body was slender, far too slender. It looked like it weighed barely sixty-five kilos despite being around six feet tall. Practically skin and bones, he thought critically.
His hair, too, puzzled him. It was thick and silky, reaching just down to his eyebrows, but styled awkwardly in a bowl cut. Maximus preferred a more mature style, swept back neatly with a fringe framing his face.
But what bothered him most was its color, vibrantly red.
"Why is this kid's hair bright red of all colors?" he muttered in disbelief. "Could this be related to my lucky red underwear? Is that why I survived and ended up in this body?"
He shook his head immediately, dismissing such absurd thoughts, yet couldn't deny the strangeness of his entire situation.
As he studied himself further, he noticed something alarming. Gently pulling open his white hospital robe, Maximus saw a collection of dark bruises scattered across his torso. Gingerly, he pressed one, flinching sharply.
"Ah! Damn, that hurts," he hissed.
The bruises varied in size and color, evidence of repeated and deliberate harm. Someone had clearly taken care to avoid visible areas like his face or forearms, hiding the abuse beneath his clothes.
"Everyone has their own problems," Maximus murmured, determinedly pushing aside these disturbing revelations. "I need to focus on figuring out what's happening here."
Resolutely, he approached the door, opening it only to freeze instantly. Standing directly outside was a sharply dressed man in an immaculate black suit, his dark hair neatly parted, styled impeccably. He adjusted his thin glasses, scrutinizing Maximus carefully.
"So," the man spoke calmly, his tone composed yet faintly intimidating, "it seems you've been pretending to sleep until everyone left."
Caught entirely off guard, Maximus hesitated. He'd planned to learn more about himself discreetly, needing to understand the date, his surroundings, and his identity first. Yet now, he faced someone who clearly knew him intimately.
"Err, uh," Maximus stammered, his mind racing for an excuse. "The truth is… the truth is, I have amnesia!"
The man's eyebrow rose skeptically. "Amnesia?" he repeated, sounding unimpressed.
Maximus nodded rapidly, sticking with his hastily chosen explanation. "Yes, amnesia. Honestly, I'm terrified. I don't know who I am, or what's happened to me. I don't even know who you are!"
The man sighed deeply, adjusting his glasses in frustration. "This could be troublesome if you're telling the truth," he admitted reluctantly. "Very troublesome indeed."
With measured composure, he introduced himself formally. "My name is Aron Heart," he explained calmly, pointing to himself. "I've served as your personal guard for several years, always by your side when needed."
A personal guard? Maximus's confusion deepened. Why would someone need a personal bodyguard?
"I suppose if you truly have lost your memory," Aron continued, apparently sensing Maximus's thoughts, "you must be wondering why someone like you needs protection."
Maximus nodded cautiously, desperate for answers yet careful not to betray his ignorance too openly.
"Because," Aron explained slowly and clearly, "you are Max Stern, the youngest heir of the Stern Family."
Hearing Aron speak those words made Maximus's heart pound furiously. His suspicions were confirmed. I was right, he thought, both shocked and overwhelmed. It really is THAT Stern Family.