CHAPTER 233: MERITOCRACY’S LIE

The study room was still in silence, illuminated only by the soft glow of a crystal chandelier.

Billy sat across from Arthur, enveloped in the rich aroma of aged wood and fine leather that filled the grand space.

Behind Arthur, towering glass windows offered a breathtaking view of Neo-Luminara, a city where gleaming skyscrapers stood alongside shadowy alleyways, stark reminders of human ambition’s highs and lows.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of red wine with an effortless grace. His expression was inscrutable; eyes half-lidded yet intensely focused on Billy.

"Now," he said, his voice calm but edged with steel, "tell me this: now that you’ve truly lived in the real world, what’s the difference between being an ordinary person, someone without power, money, or connections and being an Osborn?"

Billy felt the weight of the question settle heavily on his shoulders.

His fingers trembled slightly as he lowered the glass of wine Arthur had handed him moments ago.

Taking a deep breath, he inhaled slowly, his eyes flickering with echoes of pain and hard-earned realization.

"The difference... is everything," he finally replied.

Arthur raised an eyebrow slightly and prompted him further. "Go on."

Billy exhaled sharply; his voice emerged raw as if scraped over shards of glass. "When I left... I thought I was free, free to carve my own path without the Osborn legacy looming over me but the world doesn’t care about dreams."

He leaned forward slightly, lost in memory. "I found myself in a cramped room in an industrial district slum, sharing a kitchen and living space with two other men.

My job at YoruMart was just that, on paper it was employment; in reality? It felt like slavery. I worked 21-hour shifts just to scrape together enough for food that barely gave me strength to survive until my next shift."

He paused momentarily, clenching his jaw tightly as memories flooded back. "My boss screamed at me for every mistake, even those I didn’t make! Customers looked right through me as if I were just another machine doing its job.

And when I tried talking to girls? They dismissed me because I wasn’t wearing designer clothes or stepping out of a sports car, no one respected me."

His gaze locked onto Arthur’s as he spoke slowly and deliberately: "Because I had nothing."

Arthur remained silent for a moment longer, sipping his wine while allowing Billy’s words to sink in.

Taking another deep breath, Billy continued: "You once told me that people without power are invisible in this world. Back then? I thought you were just being cold-hearted. Now? I know it’s true."

His voice dropped, laden with bitterness. "In that world... you wake up every day and you your owe the world your very soul. Rent, utility bills, transport costs, medical expenses, it’s a never-ending cycle. You work not to live but merely to survive, and even then, it’s never enough. It feels like you’re sprinting on a treadmill set by someone else, always at full speed, never able to stop or slow down."

He let out a dry chuckle and took a sip of wine, the deep red liquid swirling in his glass as if mirroring his thoughts.

"And even if you somehow manage to save a little," he continued, "inflation devours it whole or some unexpected crisis hits. Or maybe the company decides to change its policies and cuts your hours. And you can’t complain because there are thousands behind you ready to take your place for less."

Billy turned to Arthur and said thoughtfully, "In that world, I learned that power is immortal; wealth is the true key; and background? That’s just the launchpad."

Arthur finally set down his wine glass, curiosity piqued. "So you’re saying the system rewards power?"

Billy nodded solemnly. "No, the system is constructed around power. Without it? You’re just... fodder."

The study fell into silence; only the faint ticking of the grandfather clock broke through the tension.

"What about those who say hard work pays off?" Arthur asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Billy looked up, a hint of sarcasm playing at the corner of his lips. "Hard work pays off... if you’re already in the right circle. If you’ve got connections or were born with a head start. For everyone else? It’s a rigged game! If hard work truly paid off, we’d all be swimming in money right now."

He paused for effect before continuing passionately, "The world praises meritocracy as if it’s gospel truth but let’s be real: it’s nepotism wearing a fancy mask.

You get into good schools because of your name; you secure loans thanks to your family’s reputation; respect isn’t earned through character but handed out based on who your goddamm father is."

Arthur slowly nodded as his smirk faded into contemplation.

"Then tell me this," he asked quietly after a moment’s pause, "Do you still resent me for kicking you out?"

Billy froze for what felt like an eternity before responding softly, "I hated you," he confessed at last. "I cursed your name every night lying on that ratty mattress I called home. I blamed you for everything, my hunger, my misery...even the cold."

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued earnestly, "But now... I see it differently. You didn’t punish me, you forced me to confront reality as it truly is instead of how I wished it could be."

Arthur leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile creeping across his face. "You know," he began, "the first lesson every Osborn must learn is this: the world doesn’t hand out mercy. We take what we want and shape the system to our advantage, never the other way around."

He stood up and strolled over to the window, his gaze fixed on the vibrant skyline of Neo-Luminara, where lights twinkled like stars against the night sky.

"Think about it, empires aren’t built by the weak-hearted. They’re forged by those who are willing to confront the harsh realities of life and rise above them."