Inside the car, the ride was silent. The kind of silence that presses against the skull, making every thought feel louder than it should.

Even I felt doubt gnawing at the edge of my mind.

However, I couldn't afford to look weak. My reward depended on how domineering I appeared. Time to turn my arrogance dial up a notch.

Thirty minutes later, we arrived at a two-story building. Harold guided me inside, and the guard promptly led us straight to the manager's office on the second floor.

The door opened before I could knock, and there he was—Mr. Dennis Kersey, the branch manager.

Tall and thin, he wore a charcoal suit that looked brand new. His hair was slicked back perfectly, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses balanced neatly on his nose. He got that smooth, fake smile of someone who'd spent years learning how to look friendly.

"Mr. Mercer, please have a seat," he gestured toward the chair directly in front of his wide polished wooden desk.

Behind him, a tall window was lined with blinds, shielding the office from the sun and keeping the room from turning into a sweltering oven.

"Amanda, Harold, get out. I want to talk to him alone."

The two nodded without question.

Me, on the other hand, leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, hands planted firmly on my raised knee, the way mob bosses did on TV—like I owned the room before I even said a word.

Dennis cleared his throat and straightened his posture before speaking. He was trying so hard to look unbothered, not willing to lose face in this negotiation. Apparently, my words—and my money—weren't enough to faze him.

"I'm glad you like one of our properties, Mr. Mercer. But perhaps I could show you some of our other options? We have a larger building—twenty-two stories high, far more impressive, and at a better value… only 800 million."

"I don't care about value. I buy what I want."

Dennis's smile didn't fade despite my strong approach.

"If I may, Mr. Mercer," he said, fingers steepled, "the twenty-two–story building offers you three clear advantages."

He tapped each point off like a practiced salesman counting change.

"One: density — more units. Two: vertical zoning; it's already approved for mixed commercial use, so you can open shops on the lower floors without extra permits. Three: visibility. That location sits on a main artery — foot traffic will be high."

He slid a slim folder across the desk like he was offering me a peace treaty.

When I opened it, glossy photos stared back—sleek architecture, glass panels that caught the sky. I had to admit, it was better. Bigger. Cleaner.

Hell, even the lobby looked like it could host a presidential meeting.

Unfortunately, the system didn't care about "better." It wanted that building—as if it were some divine test of how far I would go just to piss off a group of titans who already had their eyes on it.

"If you're willing to settle for the larger property, we can move this quickly. Eight hundred million is the listed price, but—" he paused, eyes flicking towards the photos "—for a VIP buyer closing immediately, I can authorize seven hundred million. No contingencies. We expedite the paperwork, you wire the funds, and the building is yours within three days."

"Seven hundred million?" I repeated slowly, letting each word grind through my teeth. "You drop a hundred million and expect me to be grateful? Who the hell do you think you're talking to—a beggar?"

I smacked the folder down. Photos jumped like startled birds. Dennis flinched, then swallowed hard, trying to keep the smile glued on.

"Stop wasting my time. If you can't make it happen, I'll start making calls. I'm sure Uncle Jonas from the Blackwood Group would love a little chat with me about how your branch handles real estate deals."

Dennis's smile faded fast. He swallowed hard, his throat moving as he tried to stay calm. Everyone in the business world knew the name Blackwood—and in this city, they weren't just big. They were untouchable.

Dennis's hands froze over the the desk. His face drained of color, lips pressing together like a trap about to snap.

"Mr. Mercer..."

I crossed my arms, letting my impatience show.

"I'm going to count to three — this is your last warning. And since you enjoy wasting my time, I'll cut my offer to six hundred million. You take it, you smile, and nobody gets sacked."

"One."

His hands twitched on the desk, and his confident posture was slowly crumbling.

"Two."

By the time I finished, his skin had turned nearly gray. He exhaled shakily, slumping back in his chair, the fight completely gone from him.

"You win…Mr. Mercer...I'll make sure everything is prepared exactly as you want. The paperwork will be ready."

Roughly twenty minutes later, I walked out of the bank grinning from ear to ear. The paperwork was signed, the money deposited—now all that was left was to have my legal team finalize everything.

However, I still hadn't received any reward notification, so I assumed it would come once everything was officially legalized.

At least, that's what I thought—until I felt it. A dangerous, hostile gaze locked right on me.

"So you're that rich kid trying to snatch our building."

A group of five cut across the plaza toward me. My bodyguards moved to intercept, hands ready—until one of the five lifted a single finger and an almost invisible thread snapped around the nearest guard's throat.

"Move and you die." He smiled like a predator.

A Seeker—and a high-ranking one at that. Even I had barely noticed those threads, thin as hair and deadly as wire.

"Is this an assassination attempt? Because I'm pretty sure what you're doing to my employee counts as assault."

"Of course not, Mr. Mercer." He let out a lazy chuckle as the threads loosened. "Just didn't expect your bodyguards to come at us head-on."

He stepped forward, and now I could see him clearly—short, wiry, with an average look.

"Name's Dax," he said, leaning back casually, one hand tucked in his pocket, eyes glinting with amusement.

"We're from Mythical, and I'm here to talk about the building you just acquired. My guild master is willing to buy it from you for 601 million—a million profit just like that." He snorted, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Not bad… for a D-ranker like you."

The corner of my vision burned with annoyance.

"So you did your homework? You think just because I'm a low-ranker, you can push me around? You might've forgotten I have another superpower—being filthy rich."

He scoffed. You think you can hide behind all that money?. You already lost the Mercer Group to DarkRock, our main investors."

My palm tightened into a fist on reflex. Hearing that name lit a fuse in me. If I weren't pretending to be low rank, I would have impaled him with my spear just calm myself down.

However, I knew lashing out now would be stupid. The more they underestimated me, the safer I am.

Still, that didn't mean I was going to let this insults slide.

"You bark too loud for a lapdog. How's it feel fetching for your master? Feels good?"

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Author's Note: The power supply in our area is finally getting more stable after the super typhoon, so I should be able to start posting bonus chapters tomorrow.

I've really been pushing it because the outages over the past couple of days were so frequent and long.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.