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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 brilliant scientist and surgeon, awakens after vanishing for a century. She discovers her once-dependent son is now a dying, wealthy centenarian. After she performs a miraculous five-minute surgery to save him, her own descendants brand her a fraud. However, the tycoon recovers and rebukes them for disrespecting their grandmother. As elite agencies and schools pledge their loyalty, the world must accept Dr. Wright’s incredible return.
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Chapter 1

Alice Wright stood before the towering iron gates, her gaze lingering on the vast estate beyond. The mansion loomed like a silent monarch, steeped in history and power, yet her heart felt unexpectedly heavy.

A hundred years. Who could have imagined that a full century would slip by like a fleeting breath—and that the little boy who once clung to her skirts, spoiled and petulant, would one day build the Wright Group from nothing and rise to become a legend known across the world?

And yet, what flooded her mind now was his final wish—how he had clung to life for one last look at her.

Suppressing the ache in her chest, she stepped forward and pressed the doorbell, her movements calm but resolute.

Moments later, the gate opened slightly. A butler in an immaculate suit hurried out, his hair slicked neatly into place.

He cast Alice a cursory glance, his expression instantly hardening. "The Wright estate is not receiving visitors at this time. I must ask you to leave at once," he said curtly.

Alice's gaze sharpened, her presence suddenly carrying an unspoken authority. "I am the person Damien Wright has been waiting for. Let me in. If he doesn't see me, he will not rest in peace."

The butler froze for two seconds—then burst into laughter, his eyes brimming with mockery.

"You?" he scoffed. "Mr. Wright has been waiting for his mother, Alice Wright—who vanished a hundred years ago! And you dare stand here, a young woman barely out of her teens, spinning such absurd lies? Get lost before the Wright family ensures you can't remain in Oyhagas!"

Without waiting for a reply, he turned sharply and waved at the guards behind him. "Get this lunatic away from the gate. Don't let her linger here another second!"

At once, two imposing security guards advanced, their hands reaching for Alice's arms.

Yet, just as their fingers were about to make contact, Alice tensed with remarkable agility, twisting her body in an almost unnatural arc to evade their grasp.

In a fluid motion, she spun around, her right leg slicing through the air with the swiftness of a striking serpent, and struck the closed wrought-iron gate with a resounding force.

The bars, sturdy and thick, should have withstood the blow, yet under the sheer power of her kick, they snapped cleanly off.

Fear flashed across the guards' faces, while the butler's complexion drained of color. "What—what are you trying to do?!" he stammered, his voice trembling. "I warn you—defying the Wright family at such a juncture is tantamount to courting death!"

Alice met his gaze with an icy resolve. "I have already made my intentions clear—I must see Damien Wright. If you refuse me entry, I shall find my own way inside."

She did not wait for an answer. Stepping past them, she walked straight into the estate as though no one dared stop her.

Inside the grand living room, grief weighed heavily upon the Wright family.

Damien was now 107 years old.

His health had deteriorated sharply over the past year. Three months earlier, he had slipped into a coma, his consciousness fading entirely.

Specialists from across the globe had been summoned, each delivering the same grim verdict: organ failure. There was nothing left to be done but prepare for the inevitable.

And yet, Damien refused to let go. He had been rescued from death nearly a hundred times, clinging stubbornly to life.

In the rare moments when his eyes fluttered open, he murmured only one name—his mother's.

Every doctor agreed—he was holding on to an unfulfilled wish.

Watching his once-commanding figure waste away, his face hollow and unrecognizable, tore at the hearts of the younger generations.

"He wants to see Grandma one last time," said Michael Wright, Damien's oldest son. He paced the room, his voice strained. "But she's been missing for a century. Even if she somehow survived back then… how could she still be alive now? He's forcing himself to hold onto this last breath. It must be unbearable. What are we supposed to do?"

Bruce Wright, Damien's second son, furrowed his brow in contemplation. "Perhaps… we should consider finding someone to impersonate her," he proposed cautiously. "Father isn't lucid—maybe such a ruse would grant him some semblance of peace. I'd rather lie to him than watch this agony continue."

Josie Wright, Damien's only daughter, clenched her fists tightly, frustration etched on her features. "But Grandma has been absent for a hundred years. None of us has ever laid eyes on her. And after the old mansion was consumed by flames, not a single photograph remains. How can we find an impersonator when we don't even know her face?"

The room sank into silence. Even Damien's five-year-old great-grandson lowered his head, quietly wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

Just then, the door opened. Alice stepped inside.

The family turned in unison, staring at the striking young woman before them—beautiful, composed, and appearing no older than her early twenties. Suspicion clouded every face.

"Didn't we say no visitors?" Michael snapped. "Who let her in?"

He stepped forward, his expression dark. "Whoever you are, leave immediately. Do not disturb my father."

Alice studied his stern features carefully. "You're Dami's son, aren't you?" she said softly. "Let me see him. Only if he sees me will he find peace. Perhaps… I may even help him recover."

"Dami?" The name echoed through the room like a thunderclap.

Every member of the Wright family stiffened, disbelief written plainly on their faces.

Their father—the most powerful tycoon in Oyhagas, a man so revered that even the President addressed him with deference—was being called "Dami" by a stranger so casually.

Michael's fury ignited, his voice rising in a thunderous roar. "Who do you think you are to address my father with such insolence?!"

He turned sharply to the staff. "Get this woman out. Now!"

At his command, guards and servants alike moved toward Alice, ready to escort her out by force.

And yet—Alice stood unmoving, her calm presence radiating an unshakable certainty, as if she alone belonged there more than anyone else.

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