The Retired CEO's Guide To Being Spoiled Chapter 200: The Background of the Troublemaker

"Huh? What is there left to see?" Julian Sterling replied, his words trailing off as he followed his natural reflex to glance back toward the corner of the lecture hall. The sight that imdiately assaulted his vision was so jarring that the remaining words of his sentence beca physically lodged in his throat, utterly unable to find their way out.

From so unknown stash, the flamboyant "chaleon" had produced a neon leather jacket that was so bright it practically glowed with its own internal light. He had draped it loosely and affectedly over his shoulders, tilting his chin upward in a display of unearned arrogance and reckless bravado. As if sensing the gaze of Julian Sterling , the youth pointedly jerked his head in Julian’s direction, a gesture thick with deliberate provocation.

Good heavens, the sheer brightness of it was enough to strike a spectator blind.

Julian Sterling couldn’t help but wonder how such a catastrophic failure of aesthetic judgnt could have possibly passed the rigorous entrance requirents for a prestigious academy of the arts. He began to speculate on just how high the boy’s academic scores in other subjects must have been to compensate for such a glaring void in basic visual harmony.

"Do you happen to know who he is? Why has he been glaring at with that expression for the past hour?"

Julian Sterling desperately searched the depths of his mory, trying to recall if the original narrative of the novel had ever ntioned a friend or associate of Aaron Sterling who possessed such a bizarre and polarizing sense of fashion. Finding no such connection in his mind, he decided it would be far more efficient to consult the human news feed sitting right beside him. After all, Kian Foster seed to be a walking encyclopedia of campus social dynamics.

When Kian Foster heard the innocent inquiry of Julian Sterling, his eyes widened in genuine, almost codic shock. He stared at Julian as if the other man had just admitted to not knowing the color of the sky: "Are you actually telling you have no idea who he is?"

"Is he so grand superstar of the silver screen?" Julian Sterling retorted with a touch of wit: "Is there a municipal law requiring every citizen to recognize his face? If he were truly a famous actor, he ought to be enrolled in a professional performing arts academy rather than cluttering up our fine arts departnt."

"He isn’t a superstar in the entertainnt industry." Kian Foster explained, leaning in closer: "But his reputation in certain social circles is quite... loud, to say the least."

"Oh? And what exactly is he famous for?"

Kian Foster shifted in his seat, bringing his lips close to the ear of Julian Sterling as if he were about to divulge a state secret: "His full na is Vince Sutton. He is the pampered youngest son of the man who was eventually nad the final heir, coming from the eighth branch of the Sutton family..."

"Wait, slow down a mont. The youngest son? The final heir? And then there’s an eighth branch? Kian , have you actually listened to the words coming out of your mouth?" Julian Sterling interrupted, raising a hand to stall the flow of information: "Just take a breath and listen to how confusing that sounds."

Julian Sterling scratched his head, his logical mind struggling to process such a convoluted family tree. He felt as though there was sothing fundantally absurd about the description. Usually, when people introduced soone from a prominent family, they spoke of lineages and direct descendants over a specific number of generations. They didn’t typically lead with "the heir of the eighth branch". Was this eighth branch a subdivision of a secondary line or a primary one? And was this count starting from a great-grandfather or so ancient ancestors from centuries past?

"It’s a bit complicated to explain the long version, but the simplified version of the story goes like this." Kian Foster said, taking a deep breath before continuing: "Several generations ago, the Sutton family ancestors perford significant services for the nation. As a result, the family was technically owed a massive amount of compensation and assets by the governnt. However, due to various logistical hurdles and historical complications at the ti, the designated recipient of the Sutton wealth was unable to actually claim the funds."

Kian Foster paused for a second before pressing on with the tale: "The whole matter essentially fell into obscurity and was forgotten by the public for decades. It wasn’t until the last few years that the records for this gargantuan compensation package were unearthed by the authorities. When they conducted a thorough audit, they discovered that one specific household had never been paid. They spent a great deal of effort tracing the family tree, only to find that all the individuals who were originally ant to receive the fortune had passed away long ago. Furthermore, there were no surviving mbers of the direct, primary lineage. The investigators pushed the search to its absolute limit until they were left with a list of distant relatives and far-flung kin. Among them, the father of Vince Sutton , Mason Sutton, was the only person left who qualified as a legal heir. He happened to belong to the eighth paternal branch of the original beneficiary."

"Oh, so that’s how it happened." Julian Sterling remarked, nodding slowly as the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together: "So, to put it simply, his family didn’t actually co from a background of established power or long-standing prestige. They basically beca overnight millionaires because of a massive windfall that fell straight from the sky? But if I think about it, sothing doesn’t quite add up. If that compensation money was held by the governnt for several decades as you said, surely the effects of inflation would have eaten away most of its actual value by now? Even a large sum from fifty years ago wouldn’t necessarily be worth an astronomical amount in today’s economy, would it?"