Chapter 292: Calculated MovesChris sat in the café long after Sinclair had left, replaying every detail of their conversation in his mind. The pieces were finally coming together, but he knew this was just the tip of the iceberg. The involvement of Mr. Pete with Georgina wasn’t surprising, but the mention of Don Wilson and money hinted at a larger conspiracy. If they had ties to a group like the Black Summit Syndicate—a name Chris was familiar with from his deeper investigations—then things were far more dangerous than he’d anticipated. Chris pulled out his phone and opened his secure messaging app. He had a contact who could help—David Lang, a man with extensive knowledge of underground networks and syndicates. David wasn’t the type to be found in broad daylight or flashy locations. He operated in the shadows, much like the organizations he monitored. Message to David Lang:Need intel on a group called the Black Summit Syndicate. It’s urgent. Where can we meet?”The reply came w

Chapter 294: Setting the TrapChris sat in the dim light of his study, the faint glow of his laptop illuminating his face. The events of the past days had been intense, but he had no time to rest. The information Sinclair Pete had provided was a game changer, but it needed careful handling. He was about to face one of the most dangerous factions yet—the Black Summit Syndicate—and he knew one misstep could cost him everything. He leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. Sinclair had mentioned a key figure within the syndicate, a man who acted as the contact for external dealings. This man was the linchpin that could either connect Chris to the organization’s inner workings or bring him down. Chris needed to meet him, but he wouldn’t wait for an invitation. Instead, he would make the first move. ---Chris began his plan by digging deeper into the syndicate’s activities. Using his network of contacts—many of whom owed him favors from his earlier work in dismantling Georgina’s sch

Chapter 295; unexpected revelation The moon hung high, casting a silvery glow over the Preston household. Chris sat in the dimly lit study, the faint hum of the table lamp the only sound in the quiet room. His mind was a whirlwind of recent events—James Paul’s betrayal, Sinclair’s unexpected revelations, and the looming shadow of the Black Summit Syndicate. His fingers drummed lightly on the desk as he contemplated his next move. Unknown to Stephany, who believed he was nothing more than a mid-level office worker, Chris's world was far more complex. He had carefully maintained this facade, hiding his cultivation abilities and secret dealings. Tonight, however, the weight of his dual lives bore down on him. As the clock struck midnight, the pendant he always wore began to glow faintly—a sign that the shadow cult was summoning him. Chris sighed, standing up and slipping the pendant beneath his shirt. He knew what this meant: the district head was finally making his presence known. -

Chapter 297 ; confessions The morning sun broke through the dense haze of the city as Chris returned home, his body weary but his mind razor-sharp. The events of the previous night replayed in his thoughts—the confession, the elixirs, and the looming threat of the Black Summit Syndicate. Yet something about the information didn’t sit right with him. As he pushed the garden gate open, the peaceful ambiance of home seemed to mock his turmoil. Stephany’s laughter drifted from the kitchen window, a sound so pure and untainted that it momentarily stilled the storm within him. She had no idea of the chaos swirling around their lives, and Chris intended to keep it that way. He stepped into the house, adjusting his tie to mask his fatigue. Stephany greeted him with a bright smile, handing him a steaming cup of coffee. “You’re home early,” she remarked, raising an eyebrow. “Slow day at the office?” Chris nodded, forcing a smile. “Something like that. Thought I’d take a break.” Her e

Chapter 300: The CrossroadsChris sat alone in the study, the flickering light from the candles casting shadows against the walls. His mind was a whirlwind, filled with the gravity of Sinclair’s visit. The more he thought about it, the more it became clear that things were no longer as simple as they once were. The Syndicate’s involvement had changed everything. His role as a cultivator and his association with the Shadow Cult were becoming more complex by the day. He wasn’t just playing a game with mortals anymore; the stakes had risen, and his next moves had to be calculated with more precision than ever.He leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the desk as he stared at the intricate symbols etched into the wood. The elixirs from the Syndicate had granted him new power, sure. But with power came responsibility, and more importantly, more enemies. Sinclair’s words echoed in his mind. She knew too much. And if she knew what she claimed to know about the Syndicate, she wasn