Behind the rearview mirror of the luxury car, the crimson flames from Itsuki's old mansion were frantically devouring the night, billowing thick black smoke that obscured a corner of the sky.
Itsuki sat motionless in the back seat. His chest had stopped spasming, and the backlash from his predecessor's asphyxiation gradually subsided, making way for a smoldering excitement coursing through his veins. He felt absolutely no remorse or hesitation for committing arson or strangling a life with his own hands. To someone who had always been pushed to the bottom of society like him, this mortal blood had now been baptized by the supreme power of a Time Breaker.
To initiate and accustom himself to the newly usurped probabilist vision, Itsuki rested his chin on his hand, silently gazing out the car window. The world through his glowing eyes suddenly transformed into a cascading waterfall of glittering characters. Slender azure threads mapped out the trajectories of everything on the street:
[Truck ahead will brake hard in the next 3 seconds: 12%]
[Next intersection traffic light will turn red: 100%]
Itsuki smirked slightly. Exactly as expected, pure mechanical laws, uninfluenced by human emotion or will, would always yield an absolute result.
"Young... Young Master, where are we going now?"
The black-suited bodyguard at the wheel asked tremblingly through the rearview mirror, his eyes filled with terror at his master's ruthless, completely altered aura. Right above the man's head, a blue line of text materialized: [Probability of betrayal: 0.1%]. But the moment he blurted out the question in utter fear, the number wavered and immediately jumped to [0.5%].
Itsuki retracted his gaze. He realized the opponent's panic was the variable that altered the numbers. He lowered his voice, issuing a cold command:
"Head straight to the main estate of the Mikage family."
The abrupt midnight appearance of Itsuki tore through the tranquil atmosphere of the Mikage estate—a place where every brick and chandelier radiated an oppressive luxury over his humiliating childhood. The guards and servants were startled, hastily stepping back as the supposedly exiled bastard strode arrogantly into the main living room.
"Itsuki! You bastard, you still dare to show your face here at this hour?"
An arrogant, piercing voice rang out. Atsushi Mikage—his half-brother, a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth—stepped forward, his face full of contempt.
Itsuki didn't even glance at him, nor did he bother to reply. His absolute ignorance was like a bucket of cold water poured directly onto the noble young master's ego. Being ignored, Atsushi flew into a rage, his face contorted in anger. He lunged forward, swinging a sinewy fist straight at Itsuki's face.
In a quarter of a second, time froze in Itsuki's consciousness. The entire living room transformed into a colossal mathematical matrix. The Probabilist's vision operated frantically, outlining three evasion trajectories with their respective counterattack success rates right before his eyes:
[Dodge right: 20% success]
[Dodge left: 80% success]
[Stand still and block: 100% minor injury]
Without needing any advanced martial arts foundation, Itsuki acted decisively and ruthlessly under the guidance of probability. He leaned to dodge left at a perfect angle, avoiding the punch by a hairsbreadth. At the exact moment Atsushi's center of gravity shifted, Itsuki swung his arm to grab the man's shoulder, using the opponent's own momentum to slam him hard against the marble floor.
"Aaaaargh!"
Atsushi screamed in pain, lying dazed on the floor. He couldn't believe the usual "trash" dared to fight back and take him down so easily.
"Atsushi! My son!"
From inside, Madam Reika rushed out in a panic, hurriedly supporting her precious son. She raised her heavily powdered but vicious face to glare at Itsuki, hissing through her teeth: "Itsuki! You wild beast, how dare you lay a hand on Atsushi, the official heir of this family?"
As soon as she finished speaking, she stood up abruptly, raising her hand to slap a thunderous blow across Itsuki's face. But before her hand could touch the air, it was tightly clamped by Itsuki's five fingers, which felt like iron pincers.
He squeezed hard, his voice dropping, each word falling like blocks of ice: "Since when... did a second son automatically become the heir? Out of respect for your title as the Madam of the Mikage household, I won't strike you this time. But if you dare to push your luck, I won't hold back."
The temperature in the living room seemed to drop to freezing. Seeing Itsuki display such murderous intent for the first time, Madam Reika trembled and immediately withdrew her hand.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed. Takeru Mikage—the patriarch of the Mikage family, and Itsuki's biological father—slowly descended the stairs. He lowered his voice, projecting an oppressive authority: "Itsuki! You've been away from home for a long time, and now you cause such a scene right after returning. Do you even have this father in your eyes anymore?"
Seeing her husband, Madam Reika immediately ran to cling to his arm, starting to cry and throw a tantrum.
Itsuki stood up straight, his eyes devoid of any familial affection, and replied coldly: "Who wants to be your son. Coming back today, my only purpose is to pack up my mother's belongings."
Takeru Mikage let out a sneer: "You think you can take whatever you want? Even if your mother is dead, her things are still the property of the Mikage family, not something you can just casually take away." He narrowed his eyes, smiling sinisterly. "But coincidentally... as long as you sign this paper, you can take as many of that bitch's things as you want."
With that, he threw a stack of papers hard at Itsuki. The probabilistic vision instantly mapped out the papers' flight trajectory in mid-air. Itsuki reached out one hand and caught it with absolute precision.
It was an agreement to sever their father-son relationship, accompanied by a clause completely renouncing his inheritance rights.
Skimming through the cold words, Itsuki was not angry at all. The corner of his mouth curled into an extremely sarcastic smile. Without bothering to use a pen, he brought his finger to his mouth, bit the tip off, used the crimson fresh blood to press a firm fingerprint onto the paper, and then casually let it fall freely to the ground.
He proudly stepped over Atsushi, who was stooping to pick up the paper like finding a treasure, stepped past Madam Reika, who was raising her voice in a barrage of curses, and stepped past the father who didn't even put this son in his eyes. Itsuki walked straight into his mother's dusty, old room in the hidden corner of the estate, personally lifting her trunk of belongings.
Before stepping out of the grand doors, Itsuki paused. He turned his head, looking directly at the father who sired him, and loudly declared:
"Listen carefully. From this moment on, there is no one named Itsuki Mikage in this world. There is only Itsuki Shiraishi. And with my own hands... I will destroy this damn Mikage family."
Takeru Mikage was momentarily stunned. The surname "Shiraishi" pierced his memory like a knife—the surname of Shiori Shiraishi, the woman who seduced him years ago, and also Itsuki's biological mother. But before he could speak, Itsuki's tall, cold silhouette had already vanished into the night.
After getting in the car, leaving, and returning to another of his secret mansions, Itsuki ordered all his subordinates out and locked himself in a closed room.
He opened the wooden trunk. Inside, there were no treasures, just a few worn, torn maid's outfits. From the folds of a dress, Itsuki pulled out a red, teardrop-shaped crystal pendant—something he always carried with him. Just looking at the crimson light reflecting on his palm, his mind was dragged back to his dark past.
Since childhood, Itsuki had to watch his mother being humiliated, scolded, and starved by those called "relatives." His mother completely did not belong to this upper-class world. She was just a lowly servant, raped by the master himself—the current patriarch—resulting in Itsuki's birth. Everyone in the family refused to accept the mother and son, labeling her a vixen who seduced the master. His own father also rejected a bastard child like him. Especially Madam Reika and Atsushi, who always found ways to torment the mother and son, while his father, even knowing it, just coldly turned a blind eye.
Tragedy struck when Itsuki was 8 years old. While mischievously rummaging around, Atsushi discovered Itsuki's mother keeping this red pendant. He immediately snitched to his mother, insisting that Itsuki's mother must have stolen it, because there was no way a servant could own such expensive jewelry.
The brutal whipping that year took place right before Itsuki's eyes. His mother was savagely beaten and tortured to death by Madam Reika and the servants. Despite witnessing that tragic scene, his father absolutely refused to intervene.
The next morning, the 8-year-old Itsuki dug through the family's trash bin with his own hands to retrieve this pendant. He heard the servants gossiping and laughing that it was thrown away because it was actually just cheap costume jewelry; there was no way the Madam would want to buy such trash. A human life, his mother's life, had been taken just because of a cheap fake item coupled with jealousy and class contempt.
The deep-seated hatred for the family, especially for his cold-blooded father, the Madam, and his younger brother Atsushi, had taken root in Itsuki's soul since that day.
Itsuki tightly gripped the teardrop pendant, his eyes closed tight, silently summoning the system in his brain.
"System, compute request: If I set a regression anchor to a point before I was 8 years old, what is the probability of me saving my mother?"
A dry mechanical sound rang out, and the system screen returned a cold result: [Success rate: 0%]
Itsuki looked at that desperate number, but wasn't surprised. He knew the cruel reality all too well: even carrying regressive knowledge, he at that time was still just a frail, sickly 8-year-old child. A child with no power and no money could do nothing more against an entire massive family machine.
He turned, walking to the bedside table. He pressed a switch hidden underneath. Immediately, a secret compartment appeared. From it, Itsuki took out a dusty, antique leather-bound book and flipped through the pages.
Inside was meticulously handwritten information about Time Breakers and this regression war. It turned out that, hidden behind that immense wealth, the Mikage family actually originated from someone who used to be a Time Breaker. That person had won a hunting cycle, attained the "Moment of Eternity," and used it to establish eternal prosperity for their descendants. Years ago, Itsuki accidentally discovered this record buried deep underground in the estate's backyard, using a code engraved on the hilt of an antique sword he had accidentally dropped.
The book recorded a lot about the functions of the Classes and highly useful underworld information. After skimming through the familiar documents, Itsuki took a deep breath, once again requesting the system to compute one final equation:
"System, if I become the final victor of this war and attain the 'Moment of Eternity', will I be able to save my mother?"
The blue algorithms running along his retinas suddenly exploded, presenting a single, brilliant, and absolute number:
[Success rate: 100%]
Itsuki gazed intently at the illusory screen. His cold, azure eyes flashed with a vicious determination.
"One hundred percent..." He whispered, gripping the ancient book tightly.
He had made up his mind. For now, the primary goal was to utterly destroy that rotten Mikage family for revenge. Sitting down in the leather chair, Itsuki turned on his computer system, activating The Probabilist's vision. The numbers immediately poured out like a flood. He began to dissect and compute all the loopholes and violations in the underground cash flows, forged financial reports, and core investments of the Mikage corporation.
The collapse of an empire would begin with his equations.