Copy & Paste Power in Modern World

Adam looked at the two stones in his hands and a slow smile spread across his face.

It felt unfamiliar.

How long had it been since he had smiled like this without forcing it? Not a polite smile. But genuine Smile. In those fifteen years, how many times had he laughed without bitterness? Two? Three? not even that.

Yet here he was, standing in a park with two identical stones in his hands, smiling like an idiot.

A system.

Copy and Paste.

Then two faces rose in his mind and the smile thinned.

John.

And John’s father.

His fingers tightened around the stones.

I was a fool.

He had underestimated both of them. Worse, he had misread the whole board. He had seen pieces and mistaken them for players. He had treated minor pain like the real danger and walked straight toward the man who had been arranging that pain from the start.

In a low voice, Adam said, "I made too many mistakes. Thinking too little of you was one of the biggest. I won’t do that again."

He inhaled slowly, then crouched and sent one stone on the ground. The other he slipped into his pocket.

Then he picked up his things.

Adam glanced back once, then started toward the campus side.

He had barely covered any distance when he saw them.

Three young men stood near the roadside, laughing loudly like the world belonged to them. One leaned against a pole. One kept nudging a can with his shoe. The third threw his head back whenever he laughed.

Adam stopped.

His eyes narrowed.

Them.

A few more memories surfaced, old ones this time, buried under years of worse suffering. He remembered being shoved into walls.

Back then, he had thought these three were the problem.

No, not just a problem.

The problem.

Adam almost laughed at himself.

So stupid.

I thought these idiots were the ones ruining my life.

He had thought avoiding them meant safety. He had thought the right move was to find someone reliable, someone calm, someone who looked smarter and cleaner than the rest.

So he had gone to John.

That memory came back sharp and ugly. Each time the pressure on campus got worse, John had appeared with the perfect face, the perfect timing, the perfect words. And after the expulsion, where had Adam gone first?

Not to the university office.

Not to anyone who might have actually helped him.

To John.

Of course he had gone to John.

And John had helped him.

At least, that was what Adam had believed then.

Now he could see the pattern so clearly that it made his stomach turn. These three had never been the whole threat. They were bait.

John had not just saved him.

He had guided him.

He had pushed him toward dependence, then stepped in at exactly the right moment to look trustworthy.

Adam shut his eyes for a second.

How did I not see it?

Because he had wanted to be saved. Because he had wanted one person to be clean in the middle of all that mess. Because he had been young, cornered, and easier to read than he ever admitted.

The three were still talking, still laughing, still unaware that the boy they used to bully was standing nearby, looking at them with fifteen more years of pain behind his eyes.

Adam adjusted the suitcase in his grip.

Not now.

His skill was absurdly valuable, but one useful skill did not make him invincible. He had no allies, no protection, and no way to resist a direct move from people with money, influence, and time.

He needed more than anger.

He needed support. Real support. Money. A safe place. Options. Something that would keep him standing even if one plan failed.

And John was not dangerous just because he was clever.

Yes, the man had a brain like a knife. Yes, he read people too well and moved before others realized there was even a game being played. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

But that was only half of it.

The other half was the network.

John always had people. The useful kind. The disposable kind. The kind who never asked enough questions. And behind that whole web stood his father, the mayor.

Adam knew what that meant because he had lived long enough to see how much stronger that family’s influence became later.

If he went after them head-on now, he would die.

The old Adam would have rushed because pain felt urgent.

This Adam knew better.

John wanted to watch him break, didn’t he?

Fine.

Then Adam would let him watch.

He would look crushed. Lost. Discarded. Like a boy whose expulsion had destroyed what little was left of him.

Let John think he had already won.

That would be safer.

More than that, it would buy time.

Not forever. Adam was not stupid enough to promise himself forever. But long enough to move first this time.

The three still had not noticed him.

Good.

Adam lowered his head, shifted his route, and walked away without a sound.

He did not look back.