Supreme Demon Emperor Returns

14. The First Target on the Chessboard

A projector screen glowed on the concrete wall of Umbra Capital's underground headquarters. Its white light illuminated the photograph of a middle-aged man. The man in the photo wore an expensive silk suit and a deeply arrogant smile.

"Allow me to introduce our first target," Lyra said, shattering the silence. She tapped a few keys on her laptop. "His name is William Henderson."

Xavier sat leaning back in an iron chair at the head of the table. In his hand, he held a ceramic mug of black coffee. The coffee had just been brewed with boiling water. Thick steam billowed from the surface of the dark liquid.

Xavier's skin was in direct contact with the scorching ceramic, but his face remained a flat mask. No heat registered in his palm. His nerves, his sense of touch, were truly dead, a consequence of his infernal contract.

He drank the coffee in a single, long swallow. It tasted of nothing, like drinking bland water. This invisible torment continued to chip away at the last of his sanity.

Xavier’s mind drifted slowly to Livia.

He remembered the warmth of his sister's hand. He remembered how her fingers would always grip his arm whenever she was frightened in the great Aristhos house. Livia was his cosmic anchor. She was the only antidote to the curse that now burned through his soul.

Xavier desperately missed that warmth. A powerful tightness crushed his chest. The protective urge to storm the Aristhos Residence and free Livia was a torment to his spirit. He wanted to get her out tonight.

But Xavier knew he couldn't. His energy was still too corrupt, too unstable. If he approached Livia now, carrying this aura of death, his demonic power would surely harm her. He had to restrain himself. He had to destroy his enemies from the outside first.

Xavier clenched his jaw. He swallowed all of his human emotions, burying them in the darkest corner of his soul. His eyes returned to the projector screen, his gaze frozen.

"Give me his full profile, Lyra," Xavier commanded. His voice was low and as cold as ice.

"William Henderson is the CEO of Henderson Logistics," Lyra answered, twirling a pen between her fingers. "It's Aristhos Corp's most profitable subsidiary. He manages all of your family’s distribution channels. More importantly, he's Adrian's most loyal lapdog."

Fenrir folded his muscular arms in the corner of the room. "What's his primary weakness?"

"Henderson is exceptionally greedy and foolish," Lyra said with a cynical laugh. "I managed to hack his personal server last night. Henderson embezzles tens of millions of dollars in corporate taxes every year. He hides the dirty money in dozens of secret accounts under the names of his mistresses in Europe."

"That data is enough to ruin his reputation in a public court," Fenrir commented flatly.

Xavier placed his empty mug on the table. The sound was a sharp crack.

"I'm not interested in human law," Xavier cut in coldly. "This man is the lifeblood of Adrian's illicit funding. If we cut him off tonight, Adrian will bleed out before the board meeting next week. I want his company signed over to me, tonight."

Lyra nodded in agreement. She pressed a key. The projector screen changed, displaying the blueprint of a skyscraper.

"I've prepared a three-phase plan for you, Boss," Lyra detailed with a confident tone.

"State the plan," Xavier said curtly. He reached into his jacket pocket and lit a cigarette.

"Phase one is a digital blackout," Lyra explained, pointing to the screen. "I've already planted a virus in the Henderson Logistics building's server. All communication access, landlines, cell phones, and internet will go dead starting at eight P.M. tonight. Their CCTV will just play an empty recording on a loop."

"And phase two?" Fenrir asked.

"That's your job, big guy," Lyra answered, looking at Fenrir. "You need to isolate the escape routes. Henderson hires a dozen ex-mercenaries to guard the lower floors. Neutralize all of them, silently. Don't let a single rat escape to call for help."

A faint smile touched Fenrir's lips. His knuckles cracked softly. "A very easy job."

Xavier blew a plume of smoke into the air. "And phase three is direct negotiation."

"Exactly, Boss," Lyra said. "Henderson is working overtime alone in the top-floor conference room tonight. He's stressing about how to cover the loss of the central funds we stole yesterday. He's in a state of panic. It's the perfect time to strike."

Xavier stood slowly from his chair. He adjusted the collar of his black shirt with a precise movement.

"Prepare the acquisition documents now," Xavier ordered, his voice absolute. "I'll be meeting with him personally."

Lyra stopped typing. She looked at Xavier, her expression tinged with concern.

"Are you sure you want to do this alone, Boss?" Lyra asked carefully. "Your body just recovered from the energy rejection after harvesting Marcus's soul yesterday."

Xavier stopped walking. He looked at Lyra with a merciless gaze.

"This is the path I have chosen," Xavier answered sharply. "My physical suffering is none of your concern. Just focus on your tasks."

"Understood, sir," Fenrir replied, bowing his head respectfully.

"I'll open a communication line from here," Lyra added quickly, her focus returning to her monitor.

Time passed without notice.

Nine o'clock at night in New York City's business district.

A light drizzle began to fall, slicking the cold asphalt streets. The area around the office block was deserted.

A pitch-black sedan pulled up smoothly in front of the Henderson Logistics skyscraper. The building soared into the night, piercing the low-hanging fog. The lights on the lower floors were brightly lit.

Xavier stepped out of the back seat. He wore an expensive black suit that fit his powerful frame perfectly. He walked calmly through the building's automatic glass doors.

The main lobby, usually under tight security, was eerily quiet. There was no receptionist at the front desk. No guards on patrol.

The only thing out of place was a spatter of fresh blood on the white marble floor. Several assault rifles lay abandoned near a decorative planter. There were fingernail scratches on the wall near the exit.

"Lobby is clean, Boss." Fenrir's deep voice came through clearly from the earpiece in Xavier's right ear. "Twelve guards are sleeping in the basement utility room. The executive elevator is open for you."

"Good work," Xavier replied softly.

Xavier walked across the lobby without a single glance at the bloodstains. The sound of his leather shoes echoed softly in the silence. He pressed the button for the private executive elevator at the end of the hall. The steel doors slid open smoothly.

Xavier stepped inside and pressed the button for the fortieth floor. The numbers on the digital display climbed rapidly.

He watched his reflection in the polished steel doors. The face in the mirror betrayed no human emotion. His eyes were as sharp as an executioner's sword. He was no longer the weak, cast-out Xavier. He was an entity of death, come to collect his family's blood debt.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime.

The executive corridor was dimly lit. Wall sconces cast a golden-yellow light. Xavier stepped out onto a thick carpet that muffled the sound of his footsteps.

He walked straight toward a set of ornate, carved double doors at the end of the hall. The doors were slightly ajar. Bright light streamed from the gap. The sound of an angry man shouting came from within.

"All of you are incompetent." Henderson's voice boomed from inside the room. There was a sound of something being thrown. "I pay you a fortune to maintain the system, not to sit on your hands when communications go completely dark. Useless bastards."

Xavier exhaled slowly. He raised his hand and pushed the double doors wide open.

The doors creaked softly.

At the far end of a long conference table, William Henderson stood holding a dead telephone receiver. He whipped his head angrily toward the door.

"Who the hell told you to come in," Henderson snapped, his face flushed red.

But the curse died in his throat. The arrogant CEO's eyes widened as if they would pop from their sockets. His reddened face turned the color of white paper.

The phone receiver slipped from his hand and clattered onto the table. Henderson stared at the black-clad figure standing calmly in the doorway, his body trembling violently.

"Hello, Mr. Henderson," Xavier greeted with a truly lethal smile. "It's been a long time."