All Chapters of Reborn Before Doomsday: My System Has Infinite Storage : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The dossier was spread across the desk when I woke up, exactly where I'd left it the night before. I hadn't managed to fall asleep for a long time after Kael asked me that strange question about dreaming of strangers, and when I finally did, I dreamed of nothing at all.A soft knock sounded on my door before Elara let herself in, balancing a tray with both hands."Good morning," she said, setting it down beside the papers. "I brought you coffee and some fruit.""Thank you." I reached for the cup, glancing at the scattered pages in front of me.Elara's eyes followed mine, curiosity flickering across her face the way it always did whenever she caught a glimpse of something she wasn't supposed to see."What is all this?" she asked, then immediately pressed her lips together. "Sorry. I shouldn't ask."I studied her for a moment. She'd proven herself useful more times than I could count, and there was no harm in letting her help with something as simple as research."I need information on

“I need you to find out something for me,” I said, setting my cup down on the kitchen counter the next morning.Kael looked up from the paper he’d been reading, one brow raised. “About Lucien?”“About my father.”That got his full attention. He folded the paper and set it aside. “What exactly?”“How hard he’s actually searching for me. Why.” I crossed my arms, leaning against the counter. “It’s not just about the two hundred million. I don’t believe that anymore.”I told him about the bunker dossier, the way Alistair had been fighting so aggressively to acquire a facility built to survive catastrophic events, and how none of it fit the picture of a man simply chasing lost pride and stolen cash.Kael was quiet for a moment, clearly turning it over in his mind. “I’ll look into it.”He didn’t ask me why I was so certain.That was one of the things I appreciated about Kael. He knew when to push and when to simply listen. There were still too many things I couldn’t explain to him, too many

Ding.Reminder: Persuasion Card expires in six hours.I sat up straight at my desk the moment the notification appeared, my stomach dropping slightly. I’d nearly forgotten about it entirely, buried under everything else that had happened over the past few days. Six hours. That wasn’t much time.I stared at the notification for several seconds before opening the system panel again. A single use item that granted Level Two Mind Push capability. Too valuable to waste, and far too rare to simply let expire without using it on someone who actually mattered.My first instinct had been Lucien. It made sense. He was still one of the biggest problems sitting in front of me, and if I could push past his defenses even once, I might finally learn what he was hiding. But the more I thought about it, the less comfortable I became with the idea. Using more system power on an unresolved target felt reckless now, especially with the Con Playbook still locked and whatever mysterious consequence mechani

The storage facility sat on the edge of the city where the streetlights grew sparse and the buildings turned into flat, faceless warehouses that all looked the same in the dark. Kael parked two blocks away, and the three of us walked the rest on foot, keeping to the shadows the way people do when they've decided in advance that they don't want to be remembered."Records office first," Elara had said that afternoon, going over the plan one final time before we left. "Dorian handles the digital footprint from the car. You two handle the physical unit.""You're not coming?" I'd asked."Someone has to stay with the vehicle and watch for anyone circling back," she'd said, and I hadn't argued, mostly because she was right, and partly because some small, stubborn part of me didn't like the idea of her standing in a dark storage yard at midnight if things went wrong.Now, walking beside Kael toward the rented unit under the fabricated name of Marcus Webb, I found myself glancing at every park

The afternoon sun cut a pale, dusty beam across the polished hardwood floor of Grace Whitfield’s office, illuminating the slow drift of stray particles. The room smelled faintly of bitter, burnt coffee and decades of aging legal briefs, an environment engineered to feel cold, sterile, and entirely unyielding. Elara sat rigid in the heavy leather armchair beside me. Her spine was locked straight, her shoulders pulled tight toward her ears, and her fingers were twisted together in her lap so fiercely that her knuckles had turned an icy, bloodless white. She didn't look at the framed diplomas lining the mahogany walls or the sprawling cityscape framed by the high windows behind the desk; her eyes were fixed entirely on the thick blue folder open on the attorney’s desk. Across from us, Grace Whitfield turned a page with a sharp, crisp snap. Kael had recommended her without much explanation beyond a curt note reading She’s the best in the city, she owes me a favor from six years ago, and