Being a bottom feeder in society is an unpleasant experience. That's how Kiro felt after being left for dead in a back alley. Abandoned and disappointed by the 'work hard' ethic his parents left for him. 'At least the heavens are weeping for me.' As the light from his eyes faded, he declared as the last act of defiance. He awoke in a room he hadn't seen in ten years. Whether it was due to sheer luck or divine intervention, he was grateful. 'Through the VR game, Asgard, I'll become filthy rich in this life time.' Kiro was blissfully unaware that his return was a cry for something greater, for the underlying threats that hovered over his world.
What impressed him the most was his brain for business. Yet he chose VR sciences. He supposed that was vastly his father's influence on him.
He couldn't believe this monster of a kid would've been buried in the lower district. If he hadn't clawed his way out with two of his bare hands, with the help of the game of course.
He wouldn't have made it out, his potential and hopes would've withered when he was hit with he reality that he couldn't make it out because of where he was born.
He could only admire him as a business man but as a father he couldn't help but be stubborn.
It was around 1pm when the door sounded again. Wilfred appeared, two silhouettes walking behind him.
"Some nerve you have Blakeson, to come to my house." Sekani bellowed, it wasn't the alcohol talking as he quickly sobered up.
"A child's 17th is very important, I thought I should come down and offer my best wishes." Gilbert said with a sly smile.