Lucian stepped out of the Ghost Hub into the pale morning light, the notification from “Golden_Lion” still burning on his phone. The Ghost Market had exploded overnight—debts wiped, secrets flooding in, the slums buzzing with new power. But the hard drive and Arthur’s escape still loomed. He needed air and time to think.He walked to the small public park near the old transit lines, a rare green patch the Vales hadn’t paved over yet. Benches lined cracked paths, and a few kids played near a rusty fountain. Lucian sat on a bench, eyes scanning the tree line out of habit.A sleek black car pulled up at the park entrance. The door opened and a tall man in an impeccably tailored suit stepped out—Elias Thorne. Billionaire tech prodigy, known for building half the city’s surveillance backbone. Seraphina’s fiancé. Perfect on paper, arrogant in person.Elias strolled straight toward Lucian, hands in pockets, a smug smile playing on his lips. Two bodyguards hung back at a distance.“Well, well

The ballroom of the Oakhaven Grand Hotel descended into pure chaos as every guest’s phone blasted Elias Thorne’s private recording at full volume. Elias stood frozen on stage, face drained of color. Seraphina shot to her feet, her elegant gown suddenly feeling like a cage.“Turn it off!” Elias shouted into the microphone, but the sound only grew louder.His own voice continued playing across the room: “These poor donors are so easy… throw millions thinking they’re saving the city, when really they’re funding my next yacht. The trash stays down, the rich stay happy, and I stay rich.”A donor slammed his phone on the table. “Elias! You called us easy to manipulate? I just pledged fifteen million!”Another guest stood, red-faced. “You said you’d squash the Ghost like a rat? After we funded your precious surveillance tech?”Seraphina pushed through the shouting crowd, heart pounding. “Elias, explain this! Is that really you?”Elias jumped off the stage, eyes wild. “It’s a hack! Lucian did

Lucian walked out of Elias Thorne’s boardroom still wearing the damp janitor uniform, the single coin left shining on the polished desk behind him. His earpiece buzzed nonstop as he descended in the elevator.Silas spoke first, voice tight with urgency. “Boss, Vale Corporation just called an emergency board meeting. Their stock is free-falling after the hospital takeover and Elias’s crash. They need a bailout fast—three hundred million minimum—or the whole empire collapses by morning.”Boxer cut in. “They’re reaching out to every anonymous investor they can find. They’re calling the mystery buyer ‘Mr. V.’ They think it’s some foreign tycoon who can save them quietly.”Lucian stepped onto the street, rain still falling. “Good. Set up the basement studio. Jax, you’re on. We’re giving them exactly what they want.”Twenty minutes later, Lucian sat in the dimly lit basement beneath the 4th Street Station. Old concrete walls surrounded him. A high-end h

Lucian slipped out of the basement studio into the narrow back alleys behind the 4th Street Station, the rain still falling in a steady drizzle. The Ghost Market buzzed on his phone with new trades, and Mr. V’s first orders were already forcing the Vales to list their pharmaceutical division for sale. But Arthur’s suspicion had turned dangerous fast.His earpiece crackled. Silas sounded tense. “Boss, the trace is live. Arthur hired a professional. Calls himself Reaper. He’s already in the industrial zone, moving toward your last known signal. Get back to the hub.”Lucian kept walking. “I’m handling it. Keep the mansion feed live. I want to see Arthur’s face when this fails.”He turned down a dark alley lined with overflowing dumpsters and rusted fire escapes. Footsteps echoed behind him. Lucian stopped, hands loose at his sides.A tall figure stepped out from the shadows, rain glistening on a black tactical jacket. The hitman—Reaper—raised a silenced pistol, barrel steady and aimed at

Seraphina stared at her phone after the “Dead Man” call ended, her face pale under the restaurant’s soft lighting. Lucian continued chewing loudly, sauce still on his fingers, playing the unrefined beggar perfectly.“What the hell was that?” Seraphina demanded, voice shaking. “Dead Man? Mr. V sending regards? Lucian, if you know anything about this, tell me right now.”Lucian wiped his hands on the expensive tablecloth, ignoring her glare. “Sounds like someone’s got your father’s number. Maybe Mr. V is done playing nice. You invited me to dinner to civilize me, remember? Looks like the real savage is the one squeezing your family dry.”Seraphina slammed her napkin down. “Stop the act! You knew that call was coming. The timing was too perfect. Are you working with Mr. V? Are you him?”Lucian leaned back, chair creaking. “Me? I’m the slum kid you laughed at, remember? The one who smells like trash. Why would Mr. V waste time on someone like me? Your