Raiden couldn't tell whether the mechanical voice was real or simply a figment of his fading consciousness.Pain consumed every part of his body until even breathing became a struggle. His consciousness drifted in and out, leaving him unable to distinguish reality from illusion. Somewhere nearby, voices echoed through the darkness, but they sounded distant, as though they belonged to another world."That's enough, Throw him away!"A pair of rough hands seized his battered body.The next instant, he was tossed aside without the slightest concern, landing heavily among waist-high weeds behind what appeared to be an abandoned dumping ground. Broken concrete, rusted metal, and piles of discarded garbage surrounded him. The foul smell of decay filled the air.To Johny Randal, the heir of the Bolt family was nothing more than trash.Raiden wanted to laugh.Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had still possessed everything most people could only dream of—a powerful family, immeasurable wealt

A few guests laughed quietly, while others continued staring at Raiden with unconcealed curiosity.Raiden ignored every pair of eyes fixed on him."Are you finished?" he asked calmly. "I'm here to book a room, and I'm prepared to pay."Collins let out a dismissive snort."How many times do I have to tell you?" he said impatiently. "You're not welcome here, Raiden Bolt."He looked Raiden up and down with open disdain."You're not the wealthy young master you were yesterday. Bolt Group is gone, and so is your fortune."Collins gestured around the lobby."Take a good look at yourself. You're covered in dried blood, your clothes are filthy, and you reek of smoke. You're driving away my guests."A mocking smile spread across his face."Now tell me... what exactly are you planning to pay with? Imaginary money?"Collins spread his hands as if explaining the most obvious thing in the world."My responsibility is to protect the comfort of everyone staying here. I’m telling you to get out of th

The moment Whitmore accepted the bank card, he handed it to one of his assistants without a word."Verify the transfer," he instructed.The assistant nodded and hurried behind the reception counter, where Aurora Hospitality's secure banking terminal was connected to the company's corporate account. His fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard as he logged into the system, the soft clicking of the keys echoing through the unusually quiet lobby.No one spoke.The laughter that had filled the room moments earlier had vanished completely.Even Collins, who had been wearing a smug smile since Raiden first walked into the hotel, found himself staring at the monitor. Although he refused to admit it, a tiny voice in the back of his mind urged the assistant to hurry and expose Raiden's bluff once and for all.Whitmore checked his watch. His investors had already been waiting far longer than they should have. If this turned out to be another empty performance, he intended to throw Raiden out o

The private elevator came to a smooth stop with a soft chime.Warm lighting reflected off polished marble floors, while handcrafted walnut panels lined the walls. A crystal chandelier hung above the entrance, casting a gentle glow over the spacious living area beyond. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the entire suite, offering a breathtaking view of the city's glittering skyline. A grand piano occupied one corner of the room, and beyond it lay a private office, a formal dining room, a fully equipped kitchen, and several elegantly furnished bedrooms.It was less a hotel suite than a luxurious penthouse.Hayes stepped aside with a respectful smile."Welcome to the Presidential Suite, Mr. Bolt. If there's anything you require, simply let us know."Raiden's eyes barely lingered on the room. Instead, he turned around immediately."Mr. Hayes."Hayes sensed the urgency in his voice."Yes, sir?""I need your help finding someone."Hayes nodded without hesitation."Of course."Raiden

Raiden immediately sat upright. “Where?”“St. Vincent's Hospital. We found a patient registered under his name. He was admitted two days ago with injuries consistent with the attack you described.”“Is he still there?”“No. He was discharged yesterday.”Raiden was already reaching for his jacket. “Then find out where he went after he left the hospital.”“We have someone checking the area now.”“Good. Send me the hospital address.”The investigator gave him the address, and Raiden ended the call only after confirming it. He turned to Hayes, who was standing nearby.“We're going to the hospital.”Hayes did not ask any questions. He picked up his coat and followed Raiden out of the suite.At the hospital, the records confirmed what the investigator had told them. Gerard had been brought in unconscious and badly bruised. He had no identification except an old wallet, and the little money he had carried was barely enough to cover his immediate expenses.The rest had gone toward his hospita