Chapter 1 - 1: SuccubusThe succubus Martin''s soul was the most dominant, taking full control, while the scholar Martin remained as a reservoir of memories. As for young Martin Myers...well, he hardly counted.

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    How peculiar—there''s no spiritual energy in this world!

    Fortunately, I''m a succubus, and my cultivation doesn''t require spiritual energy; it thrives on collecting desires.

    Desire exists in joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—as long as these emotions are directed at me, they can all be transformed into sustenance for my cultivation.

    Alright, let''s see...what reliable methods does this world have to evoke strong emotions from people?

    Hmm, being a writer...not bad. Music? That could work too. Hollywood movies—worldwide exposure? Perfect!

    Seems like I''ll need to become, what''s that term? Right—an "idea recycler."

    I''ll start with writing. The ultimate goal? Becoming an international movie star.

    What''s that? You''re asking about acting skills? Sёar?h the N??eFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

    Please, I''m a succubus!

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    "Martin! Are you ready yet? Come down for breakfast, or you''ll miss the bus!" A gentle voice called from downstairs.

    "Martin, if you''re late again, you''ll lose your allowance," came a sterner voice.

    The first voice belongs to my mother, Linda Myers, a kind woman. She''s currently a professor of Film Studies at the University of Southern California School of Cinematic Arts.

    The second voice belongs to my father, Grant Myers, an executive at J.P. Morgan''s investment division.

    We live at 222 Tremblin Drive, one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in Los Angeles.

    A rich kid—heh, I''m quite fond of this identity. It''ll be a useful asset for my plans.

    (Note: In Western culture, women traditionally take their husband''s last name after marriage, even those like Hillary who project a fiercely independent image.)

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    "Coming, coming! Mom, what''s for breakfast today?"

    "Your favorite: thick-cut bacon and eggs."

    "Wow, that''s awesome! Thanks, Mom!"

    "You should be thanking Mrs. Aranda, our housekeeper. She prepared breakfast."

    "Thank you, Mrs. Aranda! But Mom, I want to thank you too—after all, you decide what I eat every day."

    Linda beamed. Her little Martin seemed to have matured so much since his illness!

    "Hey, why isn''t anyone thanking me? That''s not fair!"

    "Dad, if you double my allowance, I''ll thank you!"

    "No way!"

    "Well then, no thank you from me!"

    "Oh, really? Well, how about I halve your allowance?"

    "Oh, dearest Father, I love you so much! You are the greatest member of the Myers family and my absolute pride!"

    "Hahaha!"

    Linda and Grant burst into laughter together.

    Grant chuckled and pointed a playful finger at Martin. "If your grandpa heard you, he''d probably beat you up"

    "Dad, you won''t tell Grandpa, will you?"

    "We''ll see—depends on my mood!"

    "Come on, Dad, let me give you a shoulder massage." Martin put on a flattering smile.

    As a succubus, laying on the charm—especially with people who could be useful—came with zero hesitation.

    "Alright, enough of that. Hurry up and eat, or you really will miss the bus," Linda urged.

    "No problem, I can give him a ride," Grant offered.

    "No way. Martin needs to go like all the other kids so he can fit in. I don''t want him missing out on friendships at school."

    "Mom, come on, as handsome as I am, how could I not have friends?" Martin said with a mock scowl.

    "Of course, he inherited my excellent genes." Grant gave himself a pat on the back, only to be met with a playful eye-roll.

    ---

    Martin quickly finished his breakfast. A white-haired woman approached, holding a neatly folded set of clothes. "Good morning, Master Martin. Here''s your outfit for today."

    "Thanks, Mrs. Aranda. I''ll change right away."

    The boy wiped his mouth, grabbed the clothes, and darted off to his dressing room upstairs.

    "Slow down, dear!"

    "I know, but I''m running late, Mom."

    A few moments later, Martin emerged wearing a light blue T-shirt and jeans, backpack in hand.

    With his fair skin, chestnut-brown hair, and handsome features, he made quite an impression. Unlike many other kids his age, Martin''s skin was free of the typical freckles found on Caucasian children, thanks to his quarter-Asian heritage. Even though his natural succubus charm was still weak, it was enough to subtly enhance his appearance.

    "Whoa, who''s this dashing young man?" Grant teased.

    "Why, he''s the son of the handsome Mr. Grant and the beautiful Mrs. Linda, the one who inherited all their best qualities—Martin Myers!" Martin replied, taking the cue smoothly.

    With a grin, he slung his backpack over one shoulder and dashed out the door. "Goodbye, Dad! Bye, Mom! Bye, Mrs. Aranda!"

    As he sprinted across the garden and out the front gate, Martin felt the residual energy from people''s emotions slowly absorbed into his body, boosting his physical strength, speed, and reflexes ever so slightly.

    At the street corner, a bespectacled boy was already waiting.

    "Hey, Martin."

    "Morning, Mark."

    The boy with glasses, a slender frame, and slightly hunched shoulders was Mark Zuckerberg. A year older than Martin, Mark had recently moved from New York to Los Angeles with his wealthy Jewish family. Due to his obsession with computers, he had been held back a year and was now repeating seventh grade.

    However, since he had started school early, he was still the same age as his classmates. Martin, likewise, had started a year early, making him a year younger than his seventh-grade peers.

    Martin greeted Mark warmly. Knowing the future accomplishments this kid would achieve, Martin naturally wanted to build a strong friendship from the start.

    [TL/N: If you see a note like this from the author in the Chapter (Note: "I''m Chinese, so I worship the government, and China is number one"), just ignore it. If Chapters seem shorter than usual, it''s because the author''s note is taking up too much space with unnecessary commentary, so I''ll be deleting it. I''ll also be removing all the "poison" this novel contains, like unnecessary praise about China, nationalism, or "China is number one" rhetoric. Sit back and read in peace—I''ll make sure this doesn''t show up in the novel. If anything slips past me by mistake, please remind me, okay? Thank you!]

    [??———?———?———?]

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