The city of Velmora buzzed like nothing had happened.
No tremors. No golden fire. No awakening of celestial bloodlines.
Just polished glass buildings, echoing traffic, and sleek people with no idea a war was blooming beneath their feet.
At Jefferson Global's headquarters, reporters still speculated about stock shifts, not shadow wars.
But Chess had already begun.
đ§ Operation: Phantom Cut
Deep in the hidden chambers of Aeris Holdings, Chess stood in a soundproof war room. The monitors flickered with names, numbers, and encrypted intel. Milo's empire wasn't built in one dayâbut its walls were beginning to crack.
"Phase One complete," said Grimm, sliding a datapad toward him. "We've flipped six financial brokers. Two are willing to testify under code black."
"We don't need testimony," Chess replied. "We need leverage."
He tapped a keyâbringing up Dakar Freight, one of Milo Varn's offshore laundering networks disguised as logistics.
"Freeze their trade routes. I want silent pressure. No headlines. Just... confusion."
Grimm nodded, grinning. "You want the fear of ghosts."
"Exactly. Make him feel like he's dying slowly."
đ´ď¸ The Return of the Phantom King
Chess moved differently now.
He stopped dressing like a lowkey husband. No more soft tees and humble loafers. He returned to form.
Charcoal-black suit. Watch that cost a country's budget. And eyes that said, I own this block... I just haven't collected rent yet.
He walked into one of Milo's dummy firmsâRavosTechâwith no announcement. No escort. Just silence.
The receptionist stammered. The head of security, a former mercenary, reached for a sidearm.
"You're already bankrupt," Chess said coolly, before the man could move. "You just haven't read the memo yet."
He dropped a single flash drive on the table. The screens around them blinkedâflickering with every dirty file the company had buried in the dark web.
"Tell Milo⌠checkmate's not loud."
He turned and walked out as firewalls collapsed around them.
đ§ Back at Jefferson Global...
Elsa stared at the growing stack of suspicious resignations.
"Five board members quit this week?" she asked Kip, her assistant.
"They're scared. Something's moving beneath us."
"Or someone," she muttered.
Elsa had been watching Chess. Closely. Ever since the warehouse. The man she'd married as part of an old family pact was no longer some cold, aloof mystery.
He was something much bigger.
Much darker.
And every whisper of corruption, every disappearing shell companyâit all traced back to him.
But instead of fearâŚ
She felt fire.
𧊠Milo Feels the Crack
Meanwhile, at a sleek high-rise known as The Ember Spire, Milo Varn gritted his teeth as he watched news that never made it to public media.
"They're turning. All my proxies. Why?" he hissed.
"Someone's feeding your men false data," his advisor said. "Locations. Times. They're walking into traps."
"Who?"
The screen glitched. A new message flashed, plain and brutal.
"Your secrets have expired. â C.G."
Milo froze.
"He's aliveâŚ"
"Worse," the advisor said. "He's active."
Milo crushed his glass. "Then let's remind him why I don't play fair."