"Sean, you are the best courier Vane Logistics has ever seen. That is why I am entrusting this briefcase only to you." Viktor Vane’s deep voice echoed through his opulent private office on the 50th floor. On a black marble desk sat a titanium briefcase. Inside, a Richard Mille RM 52-01 Skull shimmered with a lethal brilliance. The limited-edition timepiece was valued at a staggering $1,500,000. "Deliver this to Mr. Henderson’s estate in Beverly Hills before two o'clock. If you succeed, your commission will be enough to pay off the mortgage on your apartment and buy that fiancée of yours a lavish gift," Viktor said, patting Sean’s shoulder. Sean Alexander smiled sincerely. An orphan who had worked his fingers to the bone his entire life, he felt as though luck was finally on his side. He nodded respectfully, carefully shackling the briefcase to his wrist. He did not realize that the pat on his shoulder was the signal for his execution to begin. "Understood, Mr. Viktor. I won't let y

Sean Alexander walked along the wet pavement with the last of his strength. His courier jacket, once a bright blue, was now tattered and caked in mud. It reeled with the stench of sewage. Every person who passed him on the sidewalk immediately stepped aside. They covered their noses with disgusted expressions as if Sean were a walking corpse.Sean did not care. His eyes remained fixed on a single point at the end of the block.There stood a two-story old building with a flickering neon sign. "Sector 7 Gold Pawn". This was no ordinary pawn shop. In this place, items with questionable origins could be exchanged for cash without many questions. That was, as long as the owner was willing to accept a brutal price cut.Sean pushed the heavy glass door. A small bell chimed, signaling his arrival.The air inside the shop was warm and stuffy. It smelled of cheap cigar smoke and old metal. Behind thick iron bars, a middle-aged man with a bald head and thick glasses was busy counting stacks of c

"Huaaaaah..."Sean let out a long groan. It was a wide yawn that made his jaw click softly. He stretched both arms upward until the muscles in his shoulders felt a comfortable pull. Beneath the incredibly smooth silk sheets, he shifted slightly. He felt a plush sensation that he had never experienced in his entire life.Usually, he would be jolted awake by the roar of trash truck engines in the alleyway below his stifling apartment or the obnoxious blare of his phone alarm. But this morning, all he heard was the luxurious silence of a forty-second-floor suite.Sean opened his eyes slowly. The morning sunlight pierced through the gaps in the curtains, creating golden stripes across the velvet carpet. He paused for a moment. He stared at the high ceiling, trying to remember if everything that happened last night was just a tragic, beautiful dream.He climbed out of bed and walked toward a large mirror. Sean froze as he saw his own reflection. His face, which used to look dull and exhaus

A haunting silence blanketed the Atlantis Hotel Ballroom. The sound of Viktor’s crystal glass shattering still seemed to ring in the guests' ears. Sean remained standing tall, his hands tucked casually into his trouser pockets, while his sharp eyes stared flatly at a trembling Viktor."Mr. Vane? You look as though you’ve just seen a ghost," Sean remarked, his baritone voice cutting through the silence with a touch of subtle mockery.Viktor struggled to catch his breath, his chest heaving erratically. He glanced at Sophia, who was now clutching his arm so tightly her nails nearly pierced the fabric of his white suit jacket. Sophia’s face was deathly pale, her eyes bulging as she stared at Sean as if waiting for death itself to claim her."Who… who are you, really?" Viktor asked in a hoarse voice. He attempted to rebuild his wall of arrogance, but the tremor in his hands betrayed him."Hasn’t Ms. Moretti already introduced me? My name is Sean Alexander. An antiques consultant," Sean rep

That night, Sean did not head to the hotel. He instructed his rental limousine driver to pull over in a derelict industrial area on the outskirts of Sector 5. Tucked behind a waste processing warehouse reeking of rusted metal stood a heavy steel door, guarded by men in black suits concealing submachine guns beneath their waistbands.A light drizzle fell, wrapping Sector 5 in a cold, thin mist. At a seemingly abandoned pier stood a container warehouse labeled 101. There were no signs of life outside, but behind its walls lay a freight elevator that descended three floors underground.The Vault. That was the name of the most exclusive illegal casino and auction house in the city. A place where money had no serial numbers and the law had no teeth.Sean Alexander stepped out of the elevator, his head obscured by a black hoodie. His cargo pants were slightly damp from the rain, and his scuffed boots stood in stark contrast to the gleaming white marble floors of the subterranean lobby."Sor