The silence after PK's words felt heavier than the bid itself.
Silas leaned back slightly, fingers interlocked, eyes sharp.
"You said access is earned," he said. "So tell us—earned how?"
PK did not answer immediately.
He walked a few steps toward the edge of the garden, where the Blackwell crest was carved into ancient stone. He ran his fingers lightly across it, as if feeling history rather than reading it.
Then he spoke.
"Condition One," PK said calmly, "is not money."
The old men straightened.
"When I ask for something in the future," PK continued, voice even, unhurried, "you will not ask why. You will not ask when. And you will not refuse."
Hector Vane's eyes narrowed.
"A blank favor?" he scoffed. "That's absurd."
PK turned, meeting his gaze without the slightest change in expression.
"It's precise," PK corrected. "And it will be claimed only once."
Leonard laughed softly, a dangerous edge to it.
"You expect men like us to agree to something so vague? You're asking us to sign our throats over to you."
PK tilted his head slightly.
"No," he said. "I'm asking you to acknowledge that someday, something more valuable than money will be required."
Silas felt it then—a shift.
This was not a negotiation. This was a line being drawn.
Leonard took a step forward.
"You've already taken thirty crore from me," he said coldly. "Don't mistake restraint for weakness."
PK looked at him.
Just one sentence.
"You paid to own a bottle," PK said quietly. "Not the future."
The words landed like a verdict.
Leonard froze.
In that moment, he understood—he had won the bid, yet lost the table. The medicine in his hand suddenly felt light, almost irrelevant.
Henry Law watched everything in silence.
And for the first time, he saw what the others didn't.
PK was not collecting wealth.
He was placing pieces.
The twins.
Eve.
The careful way PK had spoken to him—and only him.
Henry's breath slowed.
This boy isn't building a fortune, he realized.
He's building alignment.
PK turned back to Silas.
"There will be only three more doses this year," PK said. "No more. No exceptions."
The old men stiffened.
PK's eyes darkened slightly—not with threat, but certainty.
"Today, you saw a cure," he said.
"Soon, you'll watch a system collapse."
And with that, PK stepped away from the table—
leaving behind men who finally understood
they were no longer deciding the game.