Chapter 282 - 281: Want Truth? Trace The Blood
Otto von Habsburg, heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne, became a key figure in founding the European Union. Yes, the EU. The so-called beacon of modern democracy had Habsburg fingerprints smeared on its genesis.
"Who better to unite Europe," the system said coldly, "than those who once ruled it?"
Otto’s children didn’t live in crumbling castles or wear jewel-encrusted crowns for tourists. They lived in discreet Swiss mansions, ran NGOs with immaculate reputations, sat on the boards of energy consortiums that spanned the continent, and whispered into the ears of intelligence think tanks in Brussels. They didn’t have ceremonial thrones anymore, but in exchange, they had something far better, influence without accountability.
The Bourbons were no different. Officially, they were relics of history, a Chapter closed in dusty textbooks. In reality, they had married into Spain’s financial aristocracy, embedding themselves in the highest levels of banking and real estate. They didn’t need to hold office; they owned the men who did.
The Grimaldis of Monaco, the tiny glittering principality that was nothing more than a tax haven with a flag... played the long game. Through shell companies, discreet investment funds, and centuries-old ties to France’s old money, they could move billions across borders without a single bank flagging it.
Even the Romanovs, the bloodline supposedly extinguished by Bolshevik bullets, still walked the earth. The descendants didn’t fight for thrones; they ran cybersecurity firms in Zurich, biotech companies in Tel Aviv, and quietly held patents in advanced surveillance technologies. They had adapted perfectly to the new century, trading crowns for algorithms and assassins for lawyers.
Rex leaned forward, his breath catching in his throat. The connections weren’t complicated... they were terrifying in their simplicity.
The system’s voice was almost amused. "You think kings vanished, Rex? They just stopped wearing crowns. Now they wear suits."
Do you think the Cold War was fought by strangers?" the system suddenly asked. "They were family playing a dangerous chess match. A game for redistribution of resources. The pieces died. The players did not."
...
Then, to Rex’s disbelief, the map shifted again... zooming across continents, flying over the Atlantic like a ghost through history.
It landed on the United States of America.