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Chapter 40: A Professional's Return
The suit wasn't new. It was one of the two he had rescued from the "bend-down" market, but under Papa Ikeji’s skilled needle, it had been transformed. The cheap fabric now held a sharp crease in the trousers, the jacket sat on his shoulders without a wrinkle, the collar of his simple white shirt was a crisp, clean line against his throat. Dressing that morning was not a routine; it was a ritual. Each buckle tightened was a lock clicking into place on the armor of his new-old self. He saw himself in the tiny, shattered mirror placed upon his crate. The figure in the glass was not the ghost that haunted these corridors, nor was it the demon-possessed ghost that fought goons in the alley. He was solid. Untroubled. The suit had not made the man, but it nicely delineated the man he was now.The office building was not one of the tawdry towers from his past. It was a simple, six-story building with several small-to-medium-sized businesses, but it was light-years away from the market dust an
Chapter 39: The Corrupt Boss
The name was a double-edged sword. As Elian's name became synonymous with both piercing insight and unbreakable integrity, it attracted two kinds of clients: those who actually sought his unique clarity, and those who saw it as a trophy to be bought, or a threat to be silenced. The Kreston Construction offer lay in a shadowy middle ground—a test masquerading as an opportunity.The project director, a man named Mr. Abayomi, had a smile too wide and a handshake too firm. His office, squatted on the rooftop of a half-built high-rise, was a temporary cave of dust and blueprints. The project itself was big: streamlining the supply chain for a new apartment tower. The price Abayomi asked was more than liberal; it was a tantalizing offer, sufficient to bring Elian's company to an all-time high of financial safety for several months.We need a man who is not afraid to see the facts, Elian," Abayomi said, leaning back in his chair, hands interlaced. "This project has… hiccups. Delays. Unschedu
Chapter 38: The Mentor's Burden
The Reputation Bar had been a comforting abstraction, a quantification of his increasing sway. But the reality of leadership, Elian was discovering, was dirtier and far more painful than any System interface could convey. It was one thing to guide a widow through a legal maze or to help a tailor find her mark. It was one thing to be responsible for the impressionable, malleable nature of the young men who had begun to look to him not just for strategy, but for their own moral compass.The problem started with Chike, the more openly ambitious of the two young weavers. The success of their new, independent workshop had been immediate and exhilarating. Orders for their authentic, story-backed designs trickled in, then flooded in. But the pace was not enough for Chike. The ghost of poverty was a shadow that haunted his footsteps, whispering that this new stability was an illusion, that it could be ripped away in an instant.It was Elian who first noticed the inconsistencies in Chike's dem
Chapter 37: Seeds of Respect
The moniker "the honest fighter" did more than cement Elian's reputation for toughness; it transformed him into a symbol of accessible strength. He was no longer an invincible myth who humiliated elites in forums or took apart corporate conspiracies. He was the man in the compound who could interpret a skewed contract, mediate a yelling match, and, if necessary, throw rented thugs into the muck. His power was now tangible, real, and most importantly, it was being exercised for other individuals.The procession of callers to his small room, initiated with the betrayed and the desperate, broadened now. They were the pillars of the local economy: the shop owners, the masters of workshops, the small manufacturers. They came not with tales of great betrayal, but with the nagging, insidious problems that eroded profit and morale.The first was Mama Nkechi, a small-scale tailor. She squirmed on the crate opposite his desk, her hands twisting together in her lap. "Oga Elian," she began, "the
Chapter 36: Professional Heart, Street Fight
The victory over Sotunde's contract had been a triumph of the mind, a clean, bloodless battle waged and won in the arena of logic and law. In Lagos, though, when you win a battle of the mind, the people you have defeated react in the language of the alleyway. Elian knew this. The System had warned him of "escalation," and he had been waiting for its form. He had not expected that it would be subtle.It hit on a sweltering, moonless night. The compound's usual symphony—the screaming neighbors, the crying babies, the blaring radios—had faded to the low, steady drone of a sleeping city. Elian was returning from a late meeting with Alabi Mbeki, his mind full of supply chain models and inventory turnover rates. The unsealed, narrow passage that led to his room was an abyss of darkness, the sole illumination being the faint, orange glow of a distant streetlight.He was ten paces in when his Combat Reflexes (Lv.1) screamed warning. It was not sound or movement he was consciously aware of; it
Chapter 35: The Contract Battle
Peace, Elian found, was not the absence of war, but the space between fights. The battle for the land had been an open skirmish, a test of his authority to wield chaos. The next war would be fought in the quiet, sterile ditches of paper and pencil—a battlefield where his enemies believed they had an invincible advantage.The summons was from a character by the name of Gabriel Sotunde, a middle-ranking player in the city's property world. He was a known associate of the disgraced consultant Dare Olatunji and had a reputation for "creative" contract law. His proposal was straightforward, even flattering: a consultancy to look over the logistics for a new, high-end residential project. The figure he quoted was high, higher than Elian had gotten from all of his three previous clients combined. It was bait, glittering and obvious.Bode and Chuma were suspicious immediately. "It is a trap, Master," Chuma stated, drumming his fingers in an agitated rhythm on the desktop. "Sotunde does not hi
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