Adrian stepped out into the warm Sunday afternoon, the city alive with a soft hum of activity. The events of last night still lingered in his mind—the spark of the date, the adrenaline from the park confrontation—but today was about sharpening his mind. He wanted to make real use of the skills and stat increases he had gained recently. Intelligence had been a quiet strength, but it was time to push it further.He strolled down the streets, glancing at the signs above various shops, until a small, independent bookstore caught his eye. Its windows were stacked with volumes of every kind: histories, sciences, philosophy, and technical manuals. A sign in the window announced a “Community Challenge: Solve the Puzzle of the Day for a Reward.” Adrian felt the familiar spark of opportunity. This was the kind of challenge that could boost his intelligence, testing both his reasoning and resourcefulness.Inside, the store smelled of old paper and polished wood. Shelves towered on either side, c

Adrian barely had time to set the bags on the counter before there was a soft knock at his door. He opened it to find Elana standing there, smiling, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him.“I didn’t expect this,” she said, her voice warm and teasing. “You brought dinner?”“I figured I would save you from hunger,” Adrian said, a grin tugging at his lips. “And maybe earn some brownie points for delivering without spilling anything on the way.”Elana laughed, the sound bright and infectious. “Well, I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Hero-Chef.”She stepped inside, and for a moment the air between them felt charged, the playful ease of their last date mixing with an unspoken tension. Adrian handed her one of the containers, and she took it with a laugh, the sound making his chest tighten in a way he didn’t try to hide.They settled at the small table in his apartment, passing dishes back and forth, stealing bites from each other’s plates, and talking about everything from their favorite movies

After returning to his cubicle, Adrian couldn’t shake the nagging thought: why would Marcus risk so much just for personal gain? The numbers didn’t lie—Marcus’s connections to the outside company were too convenient—but something about the scope of the operation felt bigger than his rival.Adrian opened his laptop and started a deep dive into the company behind the proposal. Public records, financial filings, and corporate registrations slowly revealed a tangled web of ownership. At first glance, it looked like a typical shell corporation, designed to appear legitimate on paper. But the more he traced the funding, the clearer the picture became.The company funneled its profits through a series of subsidiaries and holding companies, many of them registered in obscure locations. One name kept appearing: Holloway Holdings. A quick cross-reference with known databases confirmed it—the firm’s ultimate owner was Grant Holloway, along with several family members holding stakes.Adrian leane

Adrian didn’t rush things.By the time Marcus announced he was heading out early—muttering something about a “personal appointment”—Adrian had already anticipated it. The timing was too neat. Too practiced. Whatever Marcus was doing tonight, it mattered.The office hummed with its usual late‑afternoon lethargy. Keyboards clacked. Phones rang. People were already mentally checked out. Perfect cover.Adrian stood and moved toward the break area just as Marcus did, both of them converging near the copy machine. Marcus looked irritated, distracted, eyes flicking to his phone every few seconds.“Hey,” Adrian said casually, holding up a folder. “Did you ever finish reviewing the revised projections? The ones accounting flagged?”Marcus scoffed. “Yeah. It’s fine.”Adrian stepped closer, lowering his voice as if sharing something confidential. “I don’t think it is. There’s something buried in the margins. Might want to—”Marcus waved him off sharply. “I said it’s fine.”As Marcus turned away,

Adrian sat at his kitchen table long after midnight, the apartment quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. His phone lay in front of him, screen dark now, but filled minutes earlier with photos, videos, timestamps, and audio files that refused to leave his thoughts.Marcus. Grant Holloway. The shell company. The warehouse.The connections were no longer speculative. They were real, documented, and damning.Adrian leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly. This wasn’t just office politics anymore. This wasn’t Marcus trying to outshine him or sabotage a project. What he had uncovered crossed into criminal territory—fraud at a scale that could cost his company millions and put people behind bars.He rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion mixing with adrenaline.“I could turn this in tomorrow,” he murmured to himself.If he handed everything to his boss now, it would be enough to stop the deal cold. Internal investigations would follow. Lawyers would get involved. Marcus w