The meeting ended with brittle, forced smiles that sounded to Adrian like thin ice cracking under the weight of too many lies.
Papers shuffled across the mahogany table, a faint gust of sound that stirred the whispers of treachery into something tangible, almost audible. One by one, board members filed out, eager to be the first to spread rumors, to secure an alibi, to mark themselves safe from the coming storm.
Adrian didn't move.
He lingered by the massive floor-to-ceiling window, a sharp, unyielding silhouette against the waning light. Outside, the city skyline bled from pale blue into the bruised purple of dusk, glass and steel reflecting the dying sun in fractured patterns. He let the shadows of the office swallow him, letting the outside world serve as a canvas for the chaos brewing within.
Cassian brushed past him on his deliberate exit, his presence a faint, irritating scent of expensive cologne. He leaned in slightly, voice low, venomous—meant only for Adrian.
"Tick tock. Empires don't fall overnight, but yours will. And soon."
Adrian didn't turn. His gaze stayed on the city, calm, calculating, unmoving as the towers themselves.
"Funny," Adrian said, low, smooth, almost a hum in the heavy air. "That's exactly what my enemies always say… right before they stop existing."
Cassian's practiced smirk faltered for a fraction of a heartbeat. Almost imperceptible. But Adrian saw it.
Then it was gone. Cassian melted into the hallway, the doors closing behind him with a muted thunk. His entourage's overly loud footsteps receded. The boardroom fell silent once again, leaving Adrian alone with the darkening city and the faint, bluish hum of the System hovering at the edge of his vision.
[Quest Update: One traitor is about to make a move.]
[Time Limit: 24 Hours.]
Adrian exhaled slowly, letting the breath curl in the room, letting the tension fill the space. Names weren't necessary. The System's cold, precise certainty was enough.
One of those smug, self-satisfied bastards who had just shaken his hand, smiled, promised loyalty… had already sold him out.
It didn't spark panic. Not at all. It sparked a clarity so sharp it might as well have been a blade slicing through the haze of office decorum.
"Let's play, then," he murmured, the words barely audible over the hum of the building, a promise whispered into the dimming light. Identify. Isolate. Eliminate.
Adrian's silver-gray eyes flicked to the faint glow of the System overlay, reading, calculating, processing. The betrayal was close, imminent. He could feel it in the slight shiver of the room, the subtle change in air pressure, the almost imperceptible hesitation in the departing footsteps of his former allies.
He allowed himself a faint smile—predatory, controlled, deliberate. This game had only just begun.
The traitor revealed himself faster than Adrian had even anticipated.
By early evening, a low, persistent hum of scandal rippled through the finance channels Adrian monitored. Whispers that carried just enough credibility to sting, rumors designed to unsettle and manipulate, began threading through the digital veins of Raiden Corp.
"Raiden Corp scandal," the headlines would say.
Falsified internal numbers. Backdated contracts. Subtle accusations of embezzlement. The timing—painfully deliberate—meant to strike right before critical quarterly reports. Maximum panic, maximum damage. Adrian didn't flinch. He expected it.
In his office, bathed in the cool glow of multiple high-resolution screens, he leaned back in his chair. The gentle hum of ventilation, the rhythmic clack of his fingers against the desk, the faint scent of cedar from his suit—it all grounded him. Every leak, every whisper of treachery, was just another puzzle piece.
He traced the digital breadcrumbs with surgical precision. Systems, proxies, encrypted files—they fell apart under his touch. Each click, each keystroke a carefully orchestrated step toward clarity.
[System Skill Activated: Corporate Forensics Lv.3 → Lv.4]
And then: one name blinked crimson on the central monitor.
[Target Identified: Marcus Yoon, Board Member.]
Adrian's lips curled into a slow, predatory smirk. "Marcus," he murmured, the name tasting like sharp metal on his tongue. Always talking too much at cocktail parties… always flaunting loyalty as if it were a shield.
The bespoke obsidian phone on his desk buzzed lightly. Without glancing away from the screens, he answered.
"Sir," came Elias' crisp, precise voice. Elias, always on time, always indispensable.
"We've confirmed Marcus Yoon is meeting Cassian's main aide, Mr. Sterling, at the Hotel Meridian rooftop bar tonight. Reservations under a shell company."
Perfect.
Adrian rose, adjusting the fold of his cufflinks, letting his presence shift subtly, perceptibly—from calm strategist to cold predator.
"Have the car ready immediately, Elias."
"Yes, sir. Already moving."
"And clear my schedule for tomorrow," Adrian added, his silver-gray eyes reflecting the screen light. "Marcus Yoon won't be making it to the board meeting."
The Pinnacle, atop the Hotel Meridian, gleamed under the evening sky. Chandeliers glittered like frozen stars. The air smelled of gin, lime, and desperation. Laughter clinked artificially, a fragile veneer masking tension.
Marcus Yoon tried to hide in the shadows of a plush velvet booth, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead despite the bar's air conditioning. His smile, forced and brittle, betrayed him. He whispered frantically to Cassian's aide, hoping for reassurance, hoping for validation.
He didn't notice Adrian until it was far too late.
Adrian slid into the booth across from him, uninvited, a shark entering its prey's waters. The velvet cushion barely compressed beneath him.
"Marcus," Adrian drawled, his voice smooth, silken, but edged with something sharper than glass. One word, and the air shifted.
The crystal scotch in Marcus' trembling hand slopped over the rim, amber liquid catching the light as panic overtook him.
"A-Adrian, I—I don't know what you—"
Adrian didn't flinch. Didn't smile. His silver-gray eyes were cold, flat, precise.
"Save it, Marcus. I don't deal in theatrics, and I certainly don't deal in lies. You're already in checkmate. The only question is whether you want to leave this lounge alive—or be buried under Raiden Corp before sunrise."
Cassian's aide melted silently into the shadows, sensing the temperature drop.
[System Trigger: Persuasion Lv.2 → Intimidation Lv.3]
Adrian leaned closer. His suit smelled faintly of cedar and cold steel certainty. His words fell into Marcus' ear like a guillotine:
"Choose carefully, Marcus. Your fate is no longer in Cassian's hands… or yours. It's in mine."
Marcus broke. The confession spilled out in a desperate torrent: names, dates, accounts—all of it. The hound had turned on its original master.
By midnight, Adrian was back in control. The betrayal neutralized. Every fragment of information, every deal Cassian had promised Marcus, was now weaponized in Adrian's favor.
Back in his penthouse, Adrian held a glass of single-malt scotch. The city below sprawled endlessly, silent, sleeping, unaware of the moves made tonight. He allowed himself a slow, deliberate sip, the warm burn a pleasing contrast to the icy precision of his mind.
[Quest Update: First traitor neutralized.]
[Reward: Skill Upgrade – Strategic Domination Lv.1.]
He set the empty glass down with a soft click. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
"One down. Two to go," he murmured, eyes reflecting the twinkling lights of the city. And this time, he thought, Cassian wouldn't just hear the rumors—he would feel the cut.