Supreme Demon Emperor Returns

17. Domination at the Round Table

Panic spread like a deadly plague through the main conference room of Aristhos Corp.

Ten division heads sat around the massive round table, their faces ashen. No one dared to look directly at the head of the table. There, Adrian Aristhos stood, breathing raggedly. His expensive shirt was soaked with sweat.

"Idiots. You're all complete idiots," Adrian screamed. He threw an iPad onto the center of the table, cracking its screen. "How the hell does our logistics company change hands overnight. Were you all asleep."

The Head of the Legal Division, seated to the right, raised a trembling hand. The old man adjusted his glasses.

"Mr. Adrian, we've already checked the legality of the documents on the central stock exchange server," the old man said timidly. "Mr. Henderson's signature on the asset transfer is one hundred percent authentic. His fingerprint is also valid. In the eyes of the law, Umbra Capital is now the legal owner of that company."

"To hell with the law," Adrian swore. He slammed his fist on the table. "Henderson would never give up his company voluntarily. He must have been forced. Someone must have put a gun to his head last night."

"But the police concluded his death was purely from an acute heart attack," the Head of Security interjected. "There were no signs of violence on his body. No trace of a forced entry. His office was locked from the inside."

"Then the police were paid off, damn it," Adrian roared. His face grew redder. "Find out who owns this Umbra Capital. Hack their systems back. I want that bastard's name today."

The lead IT technician swallowed hard. He opened his laptop hesitantly.

"We've been trying since this morning, sir," the technician reported quietly. "But their firewall is too strong. Every time we trace Umbra Capital's IP address, our own system is counter-attacked by a virus. They're using high-level military encryption."

"Excuses," Adrian barked. "I pay you a fortune to solve problems, not to complain. If you can't breach their system, you're fired. Today."

Isabella Aristhos sat calmly in her chair. She watched her son with a sharp gaze. The elegant woman crossed her legs.

"Sit down, Adrian," Isabella commanded coldly. "Screaming like a madman won't bring our logistics company back."

"But, Mother. They just robbed us," Adrian retorted, refusing to back down. "We've lost our distribution lifeline. Our parent company's stock dropped ten percent this morning."

"I am aware," Isabella hissed. "Our enemy is very intelligent. They attacked a blind spot. We must tighten security for the entire board of directors."

Suddenly, the lights in the conference room flickered.

The giant projector screen behind Adrian switched on by itself. The white screen turned a solid black. An elegant logo, a crown made of shadows, appeared in the center. Beneath it was the name that made everyone in the room hold their breath.

UMBRA CAPITAL.

The classical strains of a Strauss waltz suddenly filled the room from the ceiling speakers. The melody was cheerful and mocking.

"What the hell is this," Adrian shouted, startled. He stepped back from the screen. "Turn off the projector. Turn it off now, damn it."

The IT technician panicked. He typed furiously on his laptop. "The system is locked, sir. I've lost control of this conference room."

The classical music slowly faded. A woman's voice echoed from the speakers. It was relaxed, articulate, and dripping with sarcasm. It was Lyra's voice.

"Good morning, you parasites of Wall Street," Lyra greeted them. "Sorry to interrupt your emergency meeting. It looks quite pathetic."

"Damn you. Who the hell are you," Adrian roared, staring up at the ceiling. "You think you can mess with the Aristhos family."

"The Aristhos family is just a pile of trash wrapped in silk," Lyra replied with a small, condescending laugh. "We are Umbra Capital. We hope you enjoyed our little gift from last night. Henderson Logistics looks much better under our management."

Isabella's face hardened. She stared at the projector screen with absolute hatred. "Who is your boss? What does he want from this family?"

"Our boss has a simple message for you, Mrs. Isabella," Lyra continued. Her tone turned frigid. "Enjoy every second of your arrogance. Because death will come for you, one by one, from the shadows."

"Cut the power now," Isabella screamed, losing her composure.

Two security guards ran to a wall panel. They wrenched down the main breaker switch.

The projector screen died. The music cut out instantly. The conference room was plunged into darkness for several seconds before the red emergency lights flickered on.

Every executive in the room was breathing heavily. An invisible terror had just slapped them across the face, right inside their own headquarters. Umbra Capital had proven that there was no safe place for the Aristhos dynasty.

Two days later.

The underground headquarters of Umbra Capital felt frigid. A fluorescent lamp cast a dim light over a glass table.

Xavier stood motionless before a large glass panel. The panel was covered with photos of the Aristhos Corp board of directors. William Henderson's photo now had a bloody red X drawn through it.

Xavier reached into his shirt pocket. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with his obsidian lighter. He took a deep drag of the nicotine.

Gray smoke filled his lungs. But he felt no sensation. His mouth was a void. The cold air of the underground room could not raise a single goosebump on his skin.

This loss of sensation tormented Xavier more and more each day. He lived, he walked, he thought. But he felt like an empty shell, moving mechanically.

His memory drifted again to Livia's face.

Today was her birthday. Normally, Xavier would have secretly slipped into the mansion's kitchen. He would have made a small, simple cake. He would have seen Livia smile happily at the sight of him. Her hands were always warm when she hugged him.

Now, he could not even dare to imagine her face, never mind hug her. The protective urge to run to that house was overwhelming. Xavier clenched his jaw. This unfulfilled longing twisted into an emotional torment far more painful than any physical wound.

He had to finish this war as quickly as possible. He needed Livia to restore the sanity that was slowly being consumed by darkness.

"Boss." Lyra's voice broke Xavier from his reverie.

Lyra approached, holding a tablet. Fenrir followed behind her, cleaning a silver dagger.

"The latest report from the stock market this morning," Lyra said. She placed the tablet on the table. "Aristhos Corp stock has continued to plummet for two straight days. Investors are starting to panic, seeing as the board has offered no reasonable explanation for Umbra Capital."

"They cannot offer an explanation," Xavier replied coldly. He stared at the tablet screen, his face expressionless. "Because they themselves do not know who they are up against."

"Isabella is making her move," Fenrir reported. The giant sheathed his dagger. "She's hired two private military security firms to guard every member of the board. Security at the Aristhos Residence has also been doubled."

"A futile effort," Xavier said dismissively.

Xavier walked toward the transparent glass panel on the wall. His eyes locked onto a photo of a flamboyant, middle-aged man. The man wore a maroon suit and smiled arrogantly for the camera.

"Who is our next target?" Xavier asked without turning.

"Maxwell," Lyra answered quickly. She typed a few lines of code into her tablet. "He's the CEO of the Aristhos property division. The man funnels laundered money through fictitious luxury apartment projects."

"Where is he now?" Fenrir asked.

"Maxwell is in hiding," Lyra said with a cynical smile. "Henderson's death scared him half to death. But his stupidity is greater than his fear. Tonight, he's holding a private party at his penthouse. He's hired dozens of high-class call girls to ease his mind."

"How many guards are there?" Xavier asked.

"Three layers of security," Lyra explained. "There's a metal detector in the lobby. Five armed guards in the elevator corridor. And two personal bodyguards inside the main room. All of them are hired from an elite military firm."

Fenrir chuckled softly. He cracked his neck to the left and right. "Standard human security. So boring."

Xavier raised his right hand. He picked up a black dagger from the table. He stared at its sharp tip, which reflected the fluorescent light.

He turned and threw the dagger with lightning speed.

Crack.

The black knife embedded itself deep in the glass panel. Its sharp point pierced the exact center of Maxwell’s forehead in the photo. The glass around the blade fractured into a fine spiderweb.

Xavier dropped his cigarette butt to the floor and slowly ground it out with his shoe. He took his long black coat from where it hung on the wall. He put it on with an elegant motion. An aura of death immediately emanated from him.

His eyes glowed blue, piercing the darkness of the headquarters. His voice was low and absolute.

"We take his soul in the middle of his party tonight," Xavier commanded. "Prepare the acquisition papers."