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One Hundred Years Later: The New Era Belongs To Me Novel Cover

One Hundred Years Later: The New Era Belongs To Me

Alice, a government-trained genius scientist and surgeon, vanished overnight. She woke a century later to find her once-clingy baby boy now the nation's richest man-a frail centenarian on his deathbed. Her grandkids were older than she was. She forced the iron gates, removed his brain tumor, and finished in five minutes. However, the grandkids aimed guns. "Impostor!" "Fraud!" "Arrest her!" Then the comatose tycoon sat up, slapped his son, and growled, "Who allowed you to be rude to your grandmother, you ungrateful brat?" The security agency stepped in. "Please cease all disrespectful actions." The academy announced, "Her return is our greatest blessing." The top medical school pledged support. "We are all committed to unconditionally supporting Dr. Wright."
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Chapter 2

Alice exhaled slowly, a quiet sigh carrying the weight of a truth she already knew.

She had never expected these descendants of hers to believe her.

As absurd as it sounded—even to herself—the middle-aged man glaring at her now, whose face bore the marks of time and authority, was in fact her grandson. It was an unchangeable truth.

Who could have imagined such a twist of fate?

Only yesterday, she had still been twenty-seven. And yet overnight, her seven-year-old boy had become a centenarian lying on his deathbed… a man with children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren of his own.

As the guards closed in with open hostility, Alice's expression remained serene, unshaken.

She did not move—until the leading guard raised his gun and pressed the cold muzzle squarely against her forehead. In that instant, she struck. Her hand shot out like a specter in the dark, fingers clamping down on the man's wrist with merciless precision.

The guard's pupils dilated in shock.

He had once served in an elite special forces unit. Even among seasoned fighters, his strength and reflexes were exceptional. Untrained men—no matter how large—were nothing to him.

He had dismissed this young woman as nothing more than a pretty face. Yet in a heartbeat, she had neutralized him.

Before his mind could process what was happening, Alice had already pivoted smoothly, executing a flawless shoulder throw that sent him crashing hard against the marble floor.

The movement was so swift, so clean, that no one even saw how it happened.

The man was nearly three times her size, yet she had cast him aside as effortlessly as one might flick away a feather.

The room fell into stunned silence. Without sparing him another glance, Alice walked calmly toward Michael. "I can't explain everything right now," she said evenly. "But I am Dami's mother. You are wasting precious time. Let me see him. Only I can help him recover."

Michael let out a harsh, bitter laugh, fury blazing in his eyes.

Around him, the rest of the family erupted in outrage.

"You're out of your mind!"

"Every renowned doctor in the world has examined my father. All of them admitted there's nothing they can do—and you dare claim you can save him?"

"You look barely twenty! What ability could you possibly have to save anyone's life?!"

Alice inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm.

She understood their disbelief. Anyone in their position would react the same way. But if they delayed any longer, her son truly might cross the point of no return.

Just as the confrontation teetered on the edge, a shrill, piercing alarm suddenly erupted from upstairs.

Every head snapped toward the sound.

Moments later, a doctor stumbled out of Damien's room, his voice shaking as he shouted, "His heart rate just spiked—he's responding to external stimulation!"

The Wright family froze. Could it be—this woman truly had some connection to their father?

"Let me go up," Alice said firmly. "I'll take full responsibility. If you delay any longer, you'll regret it for the rest of your lives."

They were her descendants. She truly did not wish to force her way through them.

Michael clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms.

Suddenly, memories surfaced—his father's words from years ago. He had once spoken of their grandmother, who vanished in her twenties, leaving behind a shattered family and stolen fortune. Damien had grown up amid hardship, shuffled between distant relatives, with nothing but grit and resolve to sustain him.

Yet from that desolation, he had clawed his way back—reclaiming everything that was taken and building the Wright Group from nothing into a global empire revered across Oyhagas and beyond.

His father had always lived by a single creed: Never give up.

Remembering those words, Michael's heart jolted.

Even if there was only a one-in-ten-thousand chance—he had to take it.

Whether it meant a miracle… or simply allowing his father to pass in peace.

At last, he lifted his head, voice hoarse. "Go," he said heavily. "Go upstairs."

The moment permission was given, Alice wasted no time. She turned and moved swiftly toward the staircase.

Behind her, Bruce and Josie exchanged uneasy glances.

"Bruce…" Josie whispered, her voice dazed. "Who is she? Could she really… be our grandmother?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Bruce snapped. "Father said Grandma disappeared at twenty-seven. Even if she were alive, she'd be over a hundred and twenty by now. How could she look like this?" He scoffed coldly. "Besides, Father always said Grandma was a world-renowned medical scientist. The Wright Group still relies on the patents she left behind. That woman is obviously a fraud."

Josie nodded slowly. His logic made sense.

Seeing Michael already rushing upstairs, the two hurried after him.

Meanwhile, Alice moved down the hallway at a near run. From a distance, through the half-open doorway, she saw the figure lying on the bed—and her heart shattered. Her son.

The boy once crowned with thick black curls now lay fragile and skeletal, his hair snow-white, his body riddled with tubes and wires. His face was pale, hollow, barely recognizable.

Tears streamed down Alice's face. "Dami… my son…" she whispered, her voice breaking.

To her, it had only been a single night.

How had her gentle, bright-eyed little boy become this fragile old man hovering on the brink of death?

How was she supposed to accept such cruelty?

She stepped forward— and suddenly, a sharp force slammed into her. A white-haired woman in elegant attire charged down the corridor and shoved Alice violently aside.

"Stay away from my husband!" Her eyes burned crimson with rage as she shrieked, her voice shrill and trembling. "How dare you barge in here with malicious intent?!"

She spun toward Michael, accusing him loudly. "Have you lost your mind?! Letting some stranger near your father! What if she's here to harm him?!"

Michael stiffened. "Mother, I—"

"Enough." Alice's fists clenched, veins standing out sharply on her hands. "No one in this world loves Dami more than I do," she said, her voice quivering with restrained emotion. "I would never hurt him."

Ruby Wright staggered back. She stared at Alice's impossibly youthful, delicate face—at the unshakable certainty in her eyes.

Her body swayed. "You… you love him?!"

Suddenly, realization struck like lightning. Ruby collapsed to the floor, pointing at Alice with a trembling finger as she screamed, "I understand now… You're Damien's mistress?!"

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