Connor leaned back in the chair, his fingers resting lightly on the armrest, his expression calm but unreadable. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. The tension from moments ago still lingered in the air like a storm waiting to break. Minutes later, a knock came. “Enter,” Connor said without looking up. The door opened, and Mr. Davis stepped in with two guards behind him. Both men looked tense, their faces tight, their posture rigid. Mr. Davis bowed slightly. “Young Master… they wish to speak with you.” Connor’s eyes lifted slowly. “Speak.” The two guards stepped forward at once and bowed deeply. One of them swallowed hard before speaking. “Young Master… something terrible has happened.” Connor didn’t react. “Go on.” “The guards that took Conrad and Gavin earlier…” the man hesitated briefly, “…they were killed on the way.” A faint silence fell. Mr. Davis’s expression tightened, but Connor remained still. “We received the information from

The morning over Glenwood Villa felt different, as if the air itself understood something big was about to begin. Connor stood by the large glass window in a perfectly tailored corporate suit, a sharp black design with a golden tie that reflected the soft morning light. A sleek suitcase rested beside him. His expression was calm, but his mind was already far ahead, reading movements, systems, and outcomes like a living map. Behind him, footsteps approached. A respectful knock followed. “Come in,” Connor said without turning. The door opened slowly, and Mr. Leonard stepped inside. He immediately bowed slightly, his tone respectful. “Good morning, Young Master.” Connor turned halfway. “You’re early.” Mr. Leonard nodded. “A message was delivered to me that you need my presence.” Connor adjusted his cuff lightly. “Yes. I want to go to CloudTech. The main command center of the Wood Group.” Mr. Leonard’s eyes widened just slightly before he recovered. “No problem, Yo

The moment Connor stepped inside the mighty corporation, everything around him seemed to shift—like the air itself had recognized a new authority had arrived. A wave of cool, perfectly conditioned air brushed against his face, carrying a faint scent of polished metal and fresh circuitry. The lobby stretched wide like a futuristic palace, glass and steel blending into a seamless display of wealth and control. Massive digital panels floated across the walls, streaming live market data, global stock movements, and internal operations in real time. For a brief second, Connor said nothing. Mr. Leonard glanced at him. “Impressive, isn’t it?” Connor’s eyes moved slowly across the space. “It is.” A young receptionist behind a sleek, glowing desk immediately stood up. Her posture was straight, her expression respectful. “Welcome to CloudTech, Young Master.” Connor raised a hand lightly. “No need.” She bowed again, more deeply this time. “Yes, Young Master.” As he walked forward, his

“Enough is enough.” Connor’s voice was low, almost swallowed by the quiet hum of the command chamber, but the weight behind it was undeniable. The message still glowed faintly on his phone screen. Conrad and Gavin had crossed the line, and this time, he would not sit behind a throne and give orders. He stood up slowly from the golden chair, his expression calm but colder than before. “If I don’t move now,” he muttered to himself, “they’ll hit one of the subsidiaries… or worse.” His fingers moved across the transparent interface one last time, then he shut the system down. The massive screens dimmed slightly, though the global data still paused in the background. “I resume office tomorrow,” he said quietly. “Tonight… something terrible is at hand.” The two humanoid robots stepped forward and bowed deeply. “Goodbye, Master Wood. We will await your return.” Connor gave a faint smile, picked up his suitcase, and walked toward the massive golden door. The data-filled screens

Connor’s phone lit up early in the morning, cutting through the quiet of his luxury suite like a warning. He reached for it slowly, eyes still heavy from sleep. The message was short. “Master, Mr Davis is waiting outside. I have an urgent message to deliver.” Connor stared at it for a moment, then sat up fully. “Urgent…?” he muttered under his breath. Now dressed in his high-class silk pajamas, he walked over and opened it. Mr Davis stood outside immediately and bowed deeply. “Good morning, Master.” Connor leaned slightly on the door frame. “What is so urgent that you came this early?” Mr Davis straightened carefully. “You’re needed at the Tarzan Council.” Connor frowned slightly. “Tarzan Council? What is that?” Mr Davis hesitated. “It’s… their tradition. They never explain much. They only say a council will be held when the Master arrives.” Connor narrowed his eyes. “And who are ‘they’?” Mr Davis lowered his voice. “The Riston Tribe. An ancient tribe living dee