I am the top engineer at the National Oceanic Institute. The only person on Earth with a successful deep-sea rescue at ten thousand meters to my name. So when my brother’s submarine went down, trapping him at the bottom of the ocean, I hung up his distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and confessed to leaking state secrets. Minutes later, my father’s furious call came through. “Your brother’s life is on the line, and you’ve vanished! Where the hell are you?” “I’m ordering you to the incident site to lead the rescue, now! If you don’t, you won’t see a single cent of the Grant family fortune!” I pulled a coarse blanket over myself and spoke into the phone. “I’m busy. Don’t interrupt my nap.” 1 I was sound asleep when Captain Miller of the Rescue Center shook me awake. “Dr. Grant! We have an emergency!” “It’s your brother, Ethan. His submersible, the Challenger, has gone dark at 10,900 meters in the Mariana Trench!” “An unidentified underwater tremor… all communications are down. The chances of survival are… slim.” I blinked my eyes open, my gaze settling on him. “So?” I asked, my voice flat. Miller stared, clearly thrown by my lack of reaction. “We need you!” he pressed. “You’re the only person in the world with a successful rescue at this depth. You’re their only hope!” I simply lay back down, turned over, and prepared to go back to sleep. “Sorry. I’m afraid I can’t help.” “What?” “I said, I can’t help,” I repeated, my tone as calm as if the men trapped at the bottom of the sea were my mortal enemies. “Adrian, are you insane? Your brother is down there! Along with twenty researchers! Their oxygen will last seventy-two hours, max!” “My wife, Dr. Evelyn Reed,” I interrupted him, “was the Mission Commander on my last rescue. In terms of experience, she’s more qualified than I am. You should be talking to her.” Miller grabbed my shoulders and hauled me upright, his voice a furious roar. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course we tried to contact Commander Reed! She’s not even in the country!” A small, cold smile touched my lips. “I know.” With that, I pulled the blanket over my head, shutting him out. He stomped his foot in frustration and stormed out of the detention cell, muttering curses under his breath. Finally, silence. A few minutes later, a specific ringtone cut through the quiet. It was my father, Robert Grant. I answered. “Adrian! Why are you refusing the rescue? Your brother is down there!” His voice was a barrage of accusations, thick with suppressed rage. “Dad, I already told them. Get Evelyn. She’s the expert.” “I can’t reach her! Her satellite phone is off!” Robert’s voice was frayed with desperation. I chuckled softly. “Oh, that’s to be expected.” “Because right now,” I said, my voice light, “she’s on board the Challenger.” On the other end of the line, Robert’s breathing hitched. It was followed by a thunderous explosion of fury. “What damn nonsense are you spouting? I personally arranged for Evelyn to join Project Borealis at the North Pole! She’s not due back for another month! How could she possibly be on the Challenger?” “Is that so?” I feigned surprise. “Then I must have misremembered.” “You—” I hung up before he could finish. The phone immediately rang again. This time, it was my stepmother, Linda Quinn. Her voice was a fragile, broken thing, choked with sobs. “Adrian… I’m begging you… please, save your brother…” I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes, listening to her performance. “Besides,” she continued, her voice gaining a sharp, manipulative edge, “more than half of the twenty researchers on that sub are your own students! Are you just going to sit back and watch them die at the bottom of the ocean?” “Can you live with that?” 2 I smiled. Of course I could. An hour later, my father and stepmother arrived at the detention center. I watched them through the cold iron bars, my gaze fixed on the television mounted on the wall, which was broadcasting live coverage of the Challenger emergency rescue mission. The news anchor was somberly reading the names of the missing crew, painting them as national heroes making the ultimate sacrifice. The atmosphere was perfectly crafted. I raised my cuffed hands and gave them a helpless shrug. “As you can see, I’m in a bit of a jam myself.” “I’ve been detained on suspicion of leaking the Challenger’s core technical secrets.” In the span of a few seconds, Linda’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief, and then to pure, venomous hatred. Her perfectly maintained face twisted in fury. “It was you!” she shrieked. “Adrian! You did this on purpose!” “You’re jealous of your brother! Jealous that he was named the chief designer of the Challenger at such a young age!” “If you can’t have it, you destroy it! You have a black, evil heart!” Every accusation she hurled was a perfect echo of the press releases from my past life. It seemed they had this script prepared long ago. My father, Robert, was far more composed. He was frantic, but he still wore the mask of the dignified Director. He stared at me, his eyes burning. “What is going on?” “Not sure,” I said, leaning lazily against the wall. “The disciplinary committee burst into my workshop late last night. Said they had an anonymous tip that I sold the Challenger’s structural blueprints and sonar codes to a foreign agency.” Robert’s face turned a sickly shade of gray. He knew it was a frame-up. Half of the submersible’s core technology came from my own research. I would never betray my life’s work. “Damn it!” he growled, pulling out his phone. “I’ll make some calls. I’ll pull every string I have. I’ll have you bailed out before the end of the day!” “Don’t waste your breath,” I said flatly. “What do you mean?” “Until the official investigation is concluded, leaving this cell would be an admission of guilt.” I looked at him, my gaze calm and sharp. “Dad, you and I both know that if this charge sticks, my life is over.” Robert froze. He understood perfectly. I asked him a simple question. “Dad, if today, only one of us—Ethan or me—could live…” “Who would you choose?” His mouth opened, but no sound came out. Just then, his phone rang. He snatched it up like a lifeline. It was the Arctic Research Center. “Director Grant, we’ve just made contact with Commander Evelyn Reed!” Robert’s eyes lit up. “Thank God! What did she say? Does she have a plan?” “Commander Reed has suspended her mission at the North Pole. She’s using a backup channel to attempt a remote connection with the Challenger’s operating system! But…” “But what?” “But the sub’s physical port is locked down. The remote signal can’t get full access! Someone has to pilot a rescue craft to the site and perform a physical interface to reboot the system!” “And the only person who can perform that interface is Dr. Adrian Grant!” 3 The call was on speakerphone. Every word echoed clearly in the small room. Robert hung up, his eyes red-rimmed as he stared at me. “Adrian, did you hear that?” he said, his voice raw. “This isn’t just about saving your brother anymore. It’s about executing Evelyn’s rescue plan! This is an order!” I let out a lazy yawn and ignored him completely. Just then, a commotion erupted outside the detention center. The parents of the missing students, having somehow gotten wind of my location, had arrived. The moment they saw me, they fell to their knees in unison. “Dr. Grant! We’re begging you! Please, save our children!” “Please, Dr. Grant, he’s our only son! He can’t die!” A chorus of sobs and pleas filled the air. I looked down at them, my expression as cold and hard as ice. “What do their lives have to do with me?” My words sliced through the crying, silencing it instantly. They stared at me in disbelief, as if I were a monster. One of the fathers scrambled to his feet, fumbling for his phone. He pulled up a screenshot of a bank transfer and held it up to the bars. “What do you mean, it has nothing to do with you? This is the record of the ‘research fund’ my son paid you!” “He said you required every student to deposit fifty thousand dollars into this account every month, or you wouldn’t let them work on your project, wouldn’t let them graduate!” “Our children’s futures are in your hands! How can you just let them die?” Others followed suit, holding up their phones. The screen after screen of transfer records were like hammers, pounding away at my name. “Yes! We paid too!” “We all paid! For two whole years!” Robert saw the records and began to tremble with rage. He pointed a shaking finger at me. “You… you disgraceful son!” “Not only are you heartless, but you’re also a common criminal, extorting your own students! You have shamed the Grant family name!” He roared with righteous fury, as if he truly believed I had committed these sins. But we both knew the truth. The owner of that bank account wasn’t me. It was his precious, favored son, Ethan. No matter how much they begged, cursed, or even threatened to harm themselves, I remained unmoved, a silent spectator to the unfolding farce. Time was running out. The golden window for the Challenger rescue was closing fast. Online, the public opinion had turned into a firestorm. #LeadEngineerAdrianGrantRefusesRescue #AdrianGrantDetainedForLeakingSecrets #AdrianGrantExtortsStudents The hashtags trended, searing and ugly. In a matter of hours, my name became synonymous with greed, cruelty, and corruption. Then, a faint, static-laced voice crackled through the live rescue broadcast. It was Ethan. “Adrian… brother… can you hear me…” His voice was weak, filled with a primal fear of death and a desperate will to live. “Brother… I believe in you… I know you can save me…” “You’ve always been the brother I looked up to… you wouldn’t abandon me… would you?” 4 His heartfelt, brotherly last words, broadcast live to the world, were a masterstroke. Millions of viewers were instantly moved to tears. 【My God! What a tragedy! His brother is waiting for him, and he’s just sitting in a cell!】 【Adrian Grant isn’t human! He’s an animal! That’s your brother!】 【I’m sick. How did someone like him become a lead engineer? This needs a full investigation!】 【Go save them! There’s no time left!】 The tsunami of outrage and condemnation washed over me. My stepmother, Linda, seized the moment perfectly. She dropped to her knees again, not before me this time, but before the cameras of the news crews that had gathered outside. Her sobs were gut-wrenching. “I’m begging you… Adrian… if you just go and save Ethan…” “I… I’ll have him sign over all his inheritance rights to you! We won’t take a thing!” As she spoke, she actually pulled a pre-prepared “Renunciation of Inheritance” document from her purse. Ethan’s signature was already on it. All she needed was my consent. It was a brilliant performance. She was the great, self-sacrificing mother, willing to give up everything for her son. I looked at her and smiled. As everyone stared in stunned silence, I spoke two simple words. “Alright.”
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