"Do not take another step."Roland aimed his pistol at the doors of the study. His hands shook. The metal barrel wavered in the air. He expected the notorious Sovereign to shatter the wood and bring the fury of the northern trenches into the room."Shoot him the moment he enters," Flint ordered from the leather sofa. "Do not give him time to close the distance.""I have fifty men outside," Roland yelled toward the corridor. "If you touch that door they will open fire."The brass handles turned slowly. The wood burst open and slammed against the plaster walls with a deafening crash.Roland braced himself for a bloodbath. He kept his finger tight against the trigger.It was not Ryker Zhao.Four men walked into the private study. They did not wear the tailored suits of provincial politicians. They wore tactical armor forged from dark composite metal. The silver crest of the Vanguard syndicate gleamed on their chest plates.Two of the operatives dragged a heavy burden across the polished

"Barricade the front gates right now."Roland Smith screamed the order at the lone security guard standing in the rain. He did not wait for a response. He bolted past the chain link fence and sprinted toward his rusted office building.Flint Lin followed close behind him. The corrupt uncle slipped on the wet asphalt but caught his balance before hitting the ground. He ruined his expensive leather shoes in the deep puddles of the decaying shipyard.They reached the office and slammed the heavy metal door shut. Roland engaged all three deadbolts.The dilapidated shipyard office offered zero comfort. The tin roof leaked rainwater onto the stained carpet. Mildew covered the cheap wood paneling. The space stood as a physical testament to the failing business Roland operated before Victor Chen offered him a loan.Roland braced his hands against his metal desk and gasped for air.His heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. A cold sweat soaked his shirt collar. The metallic taste of