The 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 Myersโฆwell, he hardly counted.
---
How peculiarโthere'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 happinessโas long as these emotions are directed at me, they can all be transformed into sustenance for my cultivation.
Alright, let's seeโฆwhat reliable methods does this world have to evoke strong emotions from people?
Hmm, being a writerโฆnot bad. Music? That could work too. Hollywood moviesโworldwide exposure? Perfect!
Seems like I'll need to become, what's that term? Rightโan "idea recycler."
I'll start with writing. The ultimate goal? Becoming an international movie star.
What's that? You're asking about acting skills?
Please, I'm a succubus!
---
"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 kidโheh, 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.)
---
"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 tooโafter 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 seeโdepends 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 charmโespecially with people who could be usefulโcame 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 qualitiesโMartin 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 peaceโI'll make sure this doesn't show up in the novel. If anything slips past me by mistake, please remind me, okay? Thank you!]
[๏ปฟโขโโโโขโโโโขโโโโข]
๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ข๐ค๐ข๐๐ฃ๐ฉ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐ญ๐ฅ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐๐ง๐๐ฉ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐๐ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐ฉ๐๐ค๐จ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ค ๐จ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ค๐ง๐ฉ ๐ข๐ ๐ค๐ฃ ๐ฉ๐๐๐จ ๐๐ค๐ช๐ง๐ฃ๐๐ฎ. ๐๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐๐ช๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ ๐ข๐๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ง๐๐๐ก ๐๐๐๐๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐!
๐ฆ๐ฝ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฎ๐น ๐๐ต๐ฎ๐ป๐ธ๐ ๐๐ผ:
โข ๐ ๐๐ญ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ
โข ๐ผ๐๐ข๐๐ง๐๐๐๐
โข ๐๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ผ๐ฏ ๐ ๐ผ๐ฒ๐ฒ
๐๐ ๐ฎ ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐๐ฟ๐ผ๐ป, ๐๐ผ๐ ๐๐ป๐น๐ผ๐ฐ๐ธ:
โข ๐๐ ๐ฐ๐น๐๐๐ถ๐๐ฒ ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฒ๐๐: ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ญ๐ด๐ฑ+ ๐๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง๐จ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ค๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ๐ค๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ก๐จ๐.
โข ๐๐ ๐ฐ๐น๐๐๐ถ๐๐ฒ ๐ฆ๐ต๐ผ๐๐-๐ข๐๐: ๐๐๐๐๐๐ซ๐ ๐ ๐จ๐ฅ๐๐๐๐๐ก ๐จ๐๐ค๐ช๐ฉ ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ง ๐๐จ ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ค๐ง ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐จ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ค๐ง๐ฉ!
๐ฌ๐ผ๐๐ฟ ๐๐๐ฝ๐ฝ๐ผ๐ฟ๐ ๐ป๐ผ๐ ๐ผ๐ป๐น๐ ๐ณ๐๐ฒ๐น๐ ๐บ๐ ๐ฐ๐ฟ๐ฒ๐ฎ๐๐ถ๐๐ถ๐๐ ๐ฏ๐๐ ๐ฎ๐น๐๐ผ ๐ต๐ฒ๐น๐ฝ๐ ๐บ๐ฒ ๐ด๐ฟ๐ผ๐ ๐๐ต๐ถ๐ ๐ฐ๐ผ๐บ๐บ๐๐ป๐ถ๐๐. ๐๐ณ ๐๐ผ๐'๐ฟ๐ฒ ๐ป๐ผ๐ ๐ฎ ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐๐ฟ๐ผ๐ป ๐๐ฒ๐, ๐ฐ๐ผ๐ป๐๐ถ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ฟ ๐ท๐ผ๐ถ๐ป๐ถ๐ป๐ด ๐๐!
๐ ๐ ๐ค๐๐ฃ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ: ๐ฅ๐๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ค๐ฃ.๐๐ค๐ข/๐๐ค๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ง
๐ฌ ๐ผ๐ก๐จ๐ค ๐ผ๐ซ๐๐๐ก๐๐๐ก๐: ๐๐ฎ ๐ผ๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ฉ! ๐๐ฃ๐ก๐ค๐๐ ๐ฉ๐๐๐จ ๐๐ญ๐๐ก๐ช๐จ๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฉ๐ค๐ค๐ก ๐๐ค๐ง $30โ๐ฃ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ 10% ๐๐๐จ๐๐ค๐ช๐ฃ๐ฉ! ๐ ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ ๐ช๐จ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐๐: ๐๐ข๐๐ข๐๐ฅ๐๐๐๐๐ฅ.
๐๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ ๐ฅ๐ค๐ฌ๐๐ง ๐ค๐ ๐พ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ข๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ข๐ฎ ๐ผ๐๐ซ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ ๐๐ง๐ค๐ข๐ฅ๐ฉ, ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐๐ฃ ๐๐๐๐ค๐ง๐ฉ๐ก๐๐จ๐จ๐ก๐ฎ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ ๐พ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐จ๐ ๐ฃ๐ค๐ซ๐๐ก๐จ ๐๐ฃ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐ฃ๐๐ก๐๐จ๐ ๐ฌ๐๐ฉ๐ ๐๐ช๐ข๐๐ฃ-๐ก๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐ช๐ง๐๐๐ฎ, ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐ช๐ง๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ ๐ฃ๐ช๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ก. ๐๐๐๐จ ๐ช๐ฃ๐๐ฆ๐ช๐ ๐ฉ๐ค๐ค๐ก ๐๐๐ก๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐จ ๐ง๐๐จ๐ช๐ก๐ฉ๐จ ๐ฉ๐๐๐ฉ ๐ง๐๐ซ๐๐ก ๐ฅ๐ง๐ค๐๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ก ๐๐ช๐ข๐๐ฃ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐ค๐ง๐จ, ๐๐ง๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช ๐๐ญ๐ฅ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐๐๐ช๐ง๐๐ฉ๐ ๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ฃ๐จ๐ก๐๐ฉ๐๐ค๐ฃ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ค ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ฃ๐๐ ๐ฎ๐ค๐ช๐ง ๐ง๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐ ๐๐ญ๐ฅ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฃ๐๐!
๐๐ฆ๐ต๐ผ๐ฝ: ๐๐๐ฉ๐ง๐๐ค๐ฃ.๐๐ค๐ข/๐๐ค๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ง/๐๐๐ค๐ฅ