Rise to Power: The Miraculous Liam Regan.

Chapter 23

In that instant, Penelope felt her thoughts scatter in every direction.

Because the transfer record had not come from a neighboring district, a shell account, or even a hidden domestic source.

It had come from

**Vamora**

For a second, she could only stare.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she breathed, “How is that even possible?”

Everyone knew what Vamora was. It was not just another country on the world map. It was one of the pillars of global power, one of the most advanced and untouchable nations in existence. A country ranked at Level One Hundred so far above the rest that even speaking of it carried a certain reverence.

Vamora was the kind of place people in lesser nations dreamed about without ever expecting to see. For most, it existed more as legend than reality a distant summit of wealth, influence, and civilization that ordinary countries could only admire from below.

People did not simply go to Vamora. Many would count themselves lucky just to hear someone from there speak, lucky just to catch a glimpse of its citizens from afar. In Penelope’s country, Fawntail no one she could remember had ever set foot there. No one of consequence. No one at all.

And why would they? To Vamora, nations like theirs barely mattered. The imbalance between them was humiliatingly vast. Vamora did not mingle with lower-ranked countries. They did not socialize with them, negotiate with them as equals, or concern themselves with the daily existence of people so far beneath their class and national standing.

To those at the top, countries like Fawntail were scarcely worth a glance.

The comparison was absurd.

What business would a ninth-generation country possibly have with a hundredth-generation one? They were not just separated by geography or wealth they existed in entirely different paradigms of power.

And yet the banking system was universal. One interconnected financial network bound the world together, which meant transaction origins could be traced with precision.

There was no mistake there. If the scan said Vamora, then the money had truly come from Vamora.

That was the impossible truth now sitting in her hand.

Which raised the only question that mattered:

How had Liam received a transfer from Vamora? How was that even remotely possible?

What was happening here?

And for the first time since stepping into the room, Penelope found herself looking at Liam not just with suspicion but with a rising, uneasy curiosity.

Could there be something about this man that no one had told her? Something hidden. Something significant. Something even she did not know about?

Then, all at once, a new thought struck Penelope so sharply that it nearly made her go still.

“A backdoor entrant.”

The possibility flashed through her mind and refused to leave.

What if Liam was not what he appeared to be at all? What if he was one of those hidden representatives someone quietly planted by a higher nation, moving under an ordinary identity, observing from the shadows? Someone sent into a lower-ranked country to assess its value, its systems, its weaknesses, its potential for acquisition or investment?

It was not unheard of. Rare, yes. Dangerous to assume, certainly. But not impossible. Powerful countries did not always announce themselves when they wanted to study a place. Sometimes they sent people ahead. Silent evaluators. Invisible hands. People who blended in until the moment came to reveal who they really were.

And if Vamora was connected to Liam… then the thought could not simply be dismissed.

Could he be one of them?

Could he be one of those discreet entrants, sent to look closely at this country from within? To decide whether it was worth attention, worth partnership, worth ownership even? Because nations at Vamora’s level did not merely invest in weaker countries. If they wished, they could effectively purchase influence over them entirely. Their reach was that vast. Their resources were that overwhelming.

If Liam was tied to that kind of power, then this situation had just become far more dangerous than a fraud investigation.

And far more valuable.

Immediately Penelope felt her pulse shift. Her caution deepened, but so did her calculation. If she handled this correctly, it could become an opportunity not just for herself, but for her family and for the bank as a whole. A connection, however indirect, to someone protected by Vamora could change everything.

Which meant one thing above all else: she had to play this carefully.

Very carefully.

Liam was no longer someone to intimidate casually. No longer someone to dismiss as an E-level nobody. If her instinct was right, then he was exactly the sort of person no one in this building should offend.

At once, she cleared her throat and composed herself.

Then, to the astonishment of everyone in the room, Penelope bowed her head deeply nearly ninety degrees.

Her voice, when she spoke, was respectful and measured.

“I am very, very sorry for the delay,” she said, “and for putting you through this stress. Please accept our sincere apology. Your account has no restrictions, and we have just confirmed that the money in it is legitimate.”