The early morning air over Beijing carried an unnatural stillness, the kind that signaled a shift—less of weather, more of the winds of power. As dawn cracked over the city, Lin Feng stood on the rooftop helipad of the Apex Tower, his tailored suit fluttering lightly in the breeze, eyes focused toward the eastern horizon where the first slivers of sunlight pierced the smog and steel.
He hadn't slept.
The past forty-eight hours had moved like a thunderclap through the elite spheres of power. Cassandra's empire of curated influence had begun to erode under its own elegance. The exposure of Arcanis Holdings and its link to philanthropic front operations had sent European foundations scrambling, and every hand once clasped in hers was now hastily retreating under the guise of "investigating further."
But Lin Feng didn't gloat.
This wasn't over.
He turned as Tang Wei approached from the rooftop entrance, breath slightly winded.
