By dawn of the following day, the outer harbor of the city was enveloped in a thick gray sea fog.Anchored three miles off the coast blocking the entrance to the ocean trade channel were four massive ironclad warships belonging to the Sovereign Syndicate's continental fleet.The flagship was named The Sovereign Monarch, a two-hundred-foot battleship armed with twelve heavy iron cannons, armored steam turrets and high-voltage deck railings.Commanding the fleet was Overseer Malakor, a ruthless continental executive wearing a dark red military coat with gold epaulets, holding an iron telescope under his arm.Standing beside him on the bridge deck was a towering terrifying figure wrapped in thick iron chains and heavy leather armor.It was Julian Vance.Julian’s face was pale, his eyes bloodshot and crazed from bio-stimulant injections, his hands replaced by heavy steel-studded fighting gauntlets. He was breathing heavily through an iron respirator mask, his muscles bulging with unnatur

"When I was starving in the mud Chloe," Caleb said gently, "Nora gave me a warm bowl of soup without asking for a single money. She didn't care about money or status. She cared about a human being."Chloe froze, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Nora standing proudly beside Caleb."You threw away a loyal man because you wanted luxury," Caleb continued softly. "You made your choice, Chloe. And choices have permanent consequences."Caleb reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a single ten-dollar CAL Sovereign Note, and set it gently on the floor in front of her."That ten dollars buys ten loaves of bread," Caleb said, his voice dropping into a quiet, final tone. "Eat your bread, live your life and never speak my name again."Caleb turned around, taking Nora's hand, and walked calmly toward the penthouse elevator with Thomas and Valerie.Chloe sat on the cold floor holding the ten-dollar note against her chest, weeping tears of agonizing regret as she realized she had th

If someone tried to buddy up to him, they would eventually notice his habits, ask questions about where he went at night, or get caught in the crossfire when things went down.Cutting people off immediately is the cleanest, safest way to ensure absolute operational security.Just then, a loud angry voice echoed from the front of the office hall."AUTHOR! MARLIN AUTHOR!"A tall balding man in an overpriced silk vest walked down the central aisle, slamming a thick leather folder onto Marlin's desk.It was Mr. Drake, the Head Audit Manager of Sector Four.Drake had a red face, small greedy eyes and a sharp, arrogant demeanor. He looked at Marlin's simple clothes with obvious condescension."You're the new transfer from the outer province?" Drake sneered, tapping the folder. "Listen to me, Author. You're at the bottom of the ladder here. I want these three hundred municipal tax files reconciled, balanced and cataloged by six o'clock tonight."Toby gasped softly beside Marlin, but quickly

Mr. Drake stepped up sweating profusely while pointing at Marlin. "Inspector! This is Marlin Author, the new transfer! He handled three hundred tax files yesterday!"Magnus Croy snatched Marlin's master ledger folder from the desk, flipping the pages open with a cold, mocking smirk."Let me see what kind of trash accounting a lower-sector rookie produces," Magnus Croy sneered.The entire office hall went dead silent. Two hundred clerks held their breath in terror, expecting Marlin to be fired on the spot.Marlin stood by his desk, nervously fidgeting with his ink-stained fingers, bowing his head slightly and swallowing hard like a terrified young clerk waiting for his punishment—while beneath his timid facade, his mind was already calculating every move.Magnus turned the heavy parchment pages with an arrogant snap of his wrist, his gold rings clicking loudly against the paper.Page ten... page thirty... page fifty...His sneer slowly began to fade. The numbers were impossibly clean

Marlin's back slammed into the partition. He let out a sharp gasp of pain, holding his hands up in terror!"I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mr. Pembroke!" Marlin squeaked, tears of fake panic welling in his eyes as he winced against the wall. "I tripped! My boot caught the rug! Please don't hit me! I'll pay for your dry cleaning! I'll spend my whole daily allowance!"Derrick raised his hand to strike Marlin across the face, but Director Alden Pryce suddenly walked onto the second-floor balcony!"What is the meaning of this commotion?!" Director Alden barked from above!Derrick shoved Marlin away in disgust, letting go of his sweater collar. "Nothing, Director! Just this clumsy lower-sector rookie spilling coffee like an idiot!""Clean up this mess, Author, and get to your desk!" Director Alden ordered sternly."Y-Yes, Director! Right away!" Marlin squeaked, dropping to his knees with a rag to wipe the spilled coffee off the floorboards, keeping his head bowed low.Derrick sneered down at hi