Reborn in the Medieval Era with an Army System

It was late afternoon, and Richard was looking through the window as the city lights began to illuminate. From the penthouse where he was, the view could be called privileged. He was in his office, a company he had built from the ground up with blood and sweat.

Richard was an orphan and had to work twice as hard to get a quality education. Being an orphan subjected him to various prejudices, turning his life into a living hell. This had made him into a cold and intelligent man, one who knew when to advance and when to retreat.

Sitting in a comfortable leather armchair, this was the place where he liked to admire the beauty of the city's nighttime lights.

The perfectly tailored suit clung to Richard's body, specially made to fit him, showcasing his well-defined and muscular figure. Every stitch seemed to tell a story of success achieved with determination and cunning.

The whisky glass, holding the 21-year-old golden liquid, elegantly rested by his side, symbolizing his refined taste and ability to appreciate the finer things in life. Each sip was taken with the serenity of someone who had earned their place in the world through tireless effort.

As he gazed out the window, the city lights seemed to bend to his command, a reflection of the authority he held over his company and his life. His cold and calculating eyes looked beyond the sparkling lights, revealing a man who knew when to attack and when to retreat, as if each step in his journey was part of a meticulously planned chess game.

At 20 years old, Richard was a man above average in appearance. His chin was defined, giving him an aura of confidence, and his sharp eyes seemed to analyze every detail around him with a touch of coldness. His body was slim and defined, with discreet muscles that suggested a balance between hard work and self-discipline. His short hair was a deep black, and a well-groomed goatee added a touch of sophistication to his already impressive appearance.

Richard was absorbed in his contemplation of the city lights when his secretary, an equally remarkable woman, entered the room. Her name was Isabella, and she was a vision of beauty and elegance. With fine features and a seductive smile, Isabella always made a strong impression. Dressed formally, her revealing attire, however, added a touch of daring to her elegance.

She approached Richard with grace and announced softly, "Mr. Richard, your car is ready to take you to tonight's event."

Richard looked at her with sharp eyes, appreciating both her efficiency and beauty. "Thank you, Isabella," he replied, his tone calm.

Richard rose from the armchair with impeccable elegance, his posture upright and confident. He walked toward the glass door that led to the building's hallway. As he did so, the company's employees who crossed his path couldn't help but look at him with respect and admiration.

His imposing presence seemed to dominate the space around him. Every step was calculated, as if he were drawing an invisible map in his mind, determining the best path to success. Richard was not just the owner of the company; he was the embodiment of the company itself.

As he approached the elevator, Isabella followed him with the grace of a panther, always a few steps behind him. The curious and reverent glances of the employees who watched him were met with a subtle nod of his head, acknowledging his presence but without losing his air of distance and control.

The elevator opened, and Richard entered with Isabella by his side. As the doors closed, the silence in the elevator was almost palpable, and his impassive expression left no room for small talk.

When the doors opened on the ground floor, Richard stepped out of the elevator with the same confidence he displayed in his office. He didn't need a name tag to be recognized; his name was enough. As he walked through the hallways, conversations ceased, and people stepped aside, as if they were facing an unyielding force.

Finally, they reached the entrance of the company, where a luxury black car awaited. The driver, dressed appropriately and trained for discretion, opened the door for Richard. He settled into the back seat, and Isabella got in beside him.

The journey to the event was an extension of his imposing presence. The car glided through the city streets, passing by illuminated buildings and bustling streets. Richard looked out the window, lost in his thoughts, as if he were always one step ahead of everyone around him.

People on the streets admired the car, and other drivers automatically yielded space. It was as if the world bent before his passage, recognizing the authority he represented.

The arrival at the event was marked by a warm reception, but Richard maintained his facade of coldness and distance. He knew how to harness the power of presence and how to stay in control in all situations. While greeting the attendees, his cold eyes continued to assess, calculate, and plan.

Richard was a man of sharp intelligence, undeniable magnificence, and a determination that had elevated him from a difficult past to a present of undeniable success. His journey was far from over, and he was willing to face any challenge the world presented to him.

But the world was never predictable. As Richard moved through the event, the guests chatted animatedly, oblivious to the approaching danger. However, some attentive observers noticed suspicious movements in the crowd. Men dressed discreetly, but with tense postures, were quickly approaching.

Before anyone could react, the strangers opened their jackets, revealing concealed firearms. Panic spread quickly, and the sound of gunshots echoed in the hall. Bullets struck the floor, walls, and even some unsuspecting guests.

Richard, however, was not a man who could be caught off guard. In a quick and precise move, he unbuttoned the jacket of his suit, revealing an elegantly hidden pistol under his bulletproof vest. His calculating eyes locked onto the intruders, and he acted with the same serenity as always.

As the assassins tried to target him, Richard responded with precise shots. His shots were like lightning in the dark, finding their marks with deadly accuracy. The intruders fell one by one, surprised by Richard's determination and skill.

In the midst of chaos, Isabella was by his side, protected by her boss. Richard used his body as a shield, acting with unwavering courage. Bullets ricocheted off the bulletproof vest, but he showed no pain. His only goal was to ensure Isabella's safety.

The surviving guests watched in astonishment. Richard, the imposing and distant man, was now in the middle of a firefight, risking his own life to save his secretary. His face remained cold and unruffled, even in the face of imminent death.

The shootout came to an end, with the intruders defeated and Richard, although wounded, still standing. He took a deep breath, his cold eyes met Isabella's, making sure she was safe. Then, he dropped to his knees, wounded but not defeated.

Richard had once again proved himself to be a man of action, willing to risk everything to protect what was his. The event that had started as a night of celebration had turned into a test of courage and determination. Richard, the cold and imposing man, had shown his humanity and unwavering will to survive.

But will alone is not enough. Slowly, his vision darkened, and Richard felt nothing more.