Divorced by the Mafia Queen: My Death System Awakens

Chapter 9: The Global Vacuum and the Blackwood Commission

The morning sun rose over a city whose absolute hierarchy had been fundamentally rewritten overnight.

The smoking, blackened crater where the Rossi Estate once stood was the only headline on every news channel. The media, heavily subsidized by sudden, anonymous offshore donations, unanimously declared it a tragic industrial gas leak. The police force, terrified into absolute submission after the Mayor's very public downfall, signed off on the incident reports without a single forensic investigation.

The public accepted the lie. But the global underworld knew the truth. A new god had claimed the throne, and his name was whispered only in terrified, hushed tones.

At the absolute summit of the Vanguard Spire, Ren stood on the open-air helipad, letting the crisp morning wind billow his midnight-blue trench coat. The sprawling metropolis spread out below him, finally quiet, finally under his absolute control.

The heavy steel doors of the helipad hissed open. Dante stepped out, his expression unusually rigid.

"My Lord," Dante said, bowing deeply. "An uninvited guest is in the lobby. He utilized a Class-Omega clearance code in a futile attempt to bypass our security. Our quantum firewall intercepted it instantly. Only one organization on Earth uses those ancient algorithms."

"The Blackwood Commission," Ren replied calmly, not turning around.

The Blackwood Commission was the invisible hand that guided the global underworld. They were an ancient syndicate of European aristocrats, global arms dealers, and shadow bankers. For a century, they had demanded absolute tribute from every mafia family, cartel, and triad on the planet. To defy them was to invite erasure from the history books.

"Let him ascend," Ren ordered.

A moment later, a tall, elegantly dressed man with a silver-tipped cane and a condescending sneer stepped onto the helipad. He was Lord Victor, a High Emissary of the Commission. He looked at Dante’s massive, intimidating frame with mild amusement before turning his cold gaze to Ren's back.

"Ren. The supposed 'Reaper' of the Vanguard," Lord Victor spoke, his aristocratic British accent dripping with elitist arrogance. "You made quite a mess last night. The Commission is... annoyed. Don Rossi was a reliable taxpayer. You vaporized a highly profitable asset without our explicit permission."

Ren slowly turned around, his eyes locking onto the Emissary. The Death-Prediction System instantly flared to life, scanning the man's biometrics, cybernetic enhancements, and digital footprint in a microsecond.

[Target: Lord Victor of Blackwood.]

[Threat Level: 0.00%.]

[External Assets Detected: Two Stealth-Camo Snipers positioned 1.5 miles away.]

[Status: Terminated 14 seconds ago.]

"Permission is a concept reserved for servants, Victor," Ren said, his voice a smooth, icy calm.

Lord Victor chuckled, leaning heavily on his silver cane. "Do not let a minor victory over a pathetic local mafia inflate your ego, boy. You conquered a single city. The Commission owns the world. I am here to offer you a singular honor. You will kneel, pledge the Vanguard Spire to the Commission, and pay a sixty percent tax on all your global operations. In return, we will allow you to live and govern this city as our dog."

Dante’s massive hand instantly gripped the hilt of his katana, his murderous intent causing the air itself to drop in temperature. But Ren raised a single finger, silently ordering his commander to stand down.

"And if I decline your generous offer?" Ren asked.

"Then the two elite cyber-snipers currently aiming hyper-velocity depleted uranium rounds at your skull and your commander's heart will pull their triggers," Victor smiled a venomous, absolute smile. "Did you really think a High Emissary travels without absolute overwatch? Kneel, Ren. Or lose your head."

Ren didn't blink. He didn't flinch. He simply looked at Victor with profound pity.

"Dante," Ren said softly. "Give the Emissary his luggage."

Dante stepped forward and casually tossed a sleek, silver stasis-box onto the pristine white landing pad. It slid to a halt right at Lord Victor’s expensive leather shoes. The biometric lock disengaged with a hiss, and the lid popped open.

Lord Victor’s arrogant smile instantly vanished. The color drained completely from his face, leaving him as pale as a corpse.

Resting inside the box were the freshly severed heads of his two elite, 'invisible' snipers. Their state-of-the-art optical camouflage nodes were completely shattered.

"How..." Victor stammered, his aristocratic composure shattering as he stumbled backward. "They were two miles away... They had active thermal-camo..."

"Your technology is a century behind the Vanguard," Ren stated, stepping closer. The sheer, crushing pressure of his aura forced the Emissary to his knees. "My system mapped their heart rates, calculated the wind resistance, and logged the exact time of their deaths before the elevator doors even opened for you."

Ren looked down at the trembling aristocrat, the deep-blue code of his system reflecting in his cold, hollow eyes.

"You came here to offer me a city in exchange for a collar," Ren whispered, his voice resonating with the absolute authority of a cybernetic deity. "But my vision is slightly broader. I have no interest in ruling a single city."

Ren leaned in close, his words freezing the blood in Victor's veins.

"I am going to dismantle the Blackwood Commission. I am going to liquidate your ancient banks. I am going to burn your global empire to the absolute ground. And I am keeping you alive today solely so you can deliver that message to your masters."

Ren turned away, walking back toward the edge of the helipad to look out over the horizon.

"Run back to Europe, Victor. Tell the Commission the Reaper is coming for the world."