I was lying on the massage chair on the private jet, holding a glass of 1982 Lafite, and thinking about which club to go to tonight to spend a million, when my brain suddenly seemed to be disturbed by an electric drill.
Immediately afterwards, a cold mechanical sound exploded in my head.
"The Almighty Parenting System is successfully bound, the host number is 001, and the identity is confirmed."
The wine glass in my hand almost flew out.
"What the hell?" I sat up straight and looked around the empty cabin - except for a dozing bodyguard, no one spoke to me.
