The God's Game System

Chapter 9

Eugene took a half-step forward, pointing a shaking finger at the matte-black card on the table. "Sir! You can't listen to this guy. He's a fraud! Look at what he's wearing. He probably stole that key card from room service or found it on the floor!"

The broad-shouldered man did not even glance at Eugene. He kept his sharp, grey eyes fixed squarely on Leo.

"Eugene," the man said softly. His voice was low, but it cut through the room like a cold knife. "You wear an off-the-rack polo, brag about a leased car, and make noise in a room full of working men. Pick up your racket and leave."

Eugene’s face flushed a deep, burning red. He opened his mouth to protest, but one of the four heavy security guards took a single step forward, towering over him. Eugene swallowed his words, grabbed his graphite racket off the table, and hurried out of the lounge without looking back. His two friends quietly followed right behind him.

The broad-shouldered man walked over to the table and picked up the black titanium card. He flipped it over in his hand, feeling the weight of the metal, before setting it back down in front of Leo.

"Raymond Croft," the man said, extending a hand. "I hold the suite at the far end of the hall."

Leo took his hand and gave it a single, firm shake. "Leo."

Thanks to his passive skill, Leo’s pulse remained entirely steady, his face an unreadable mask. Croft looked him up and down, taking in the complete lack of panic or posturing in Leo's posture. Most men in the city turned pale when Croft’s security team walked into a room. Leo did not even look at the guards.

"A hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash for thirty nights," Croft said, gesturing toward a quiet corner booth overlooking the glass courtyard. "No entourage, no loud watch, no screaming for attention. That kind of quiet money usually comes with a heavy story. Join me for an espresso, Leo."

"Lead the way," Leo said calmly.

They sat down at a private marble table in the sunlit corner of the lounge. A waiter immediately brought over two small cups of dark espresso, set them down without a word, and retreated.

Croft took a slow sip, his sharp eyes evaluating Leo over the rim of his cup.

"The city is shifting right now," Croft murmured, leaning back into his leather seat. "A lot of foolish people think things are stable, but the foundation is cracking."

"How so?" Leo asked, keeping his tone casually interested.

"The docks fell into total chaos late last night," Croft explained smoothly. "Some low-level loan shark named Andres got brought to his knees by an unknown player. The entire northern supply line is frozen because Andres was holding collateral for half the local crews. Now everyone is scrambling to buy up his debt."

Leo picked up his cup and took a quiet sip. "Sounds like an opportunity for whoever acts first."

"Precisely," Croft nodded, smiling slightly. "And it isn't just the docks. Look at the old-money families in the city. Take the Leroy family, for example. They pretend they own the upper district. The daughter just bought a two-hundred-thousand-dollar handbag to flex on social media."

Leo’s eyes narrowed just a fraction, though his face remained completely expressionless. "A handbag?"

"Pure vanity," Croft said with a dry chuckle. "What the public doesn't know is that the Leroys are heavily overleveraged. They have three massive short-term commercial loans maturing at the end of this month. If they can't refinance or bring in fresh capital, their primary holding company goes under. They are burning cash on shiny toys while standing on thin ice."

Leo absorbed every word, filing the information away. He had known the Leroys were rich, but he had never understood the inner mechanics of their corporate debt.

Croft reached inside his dark vest, pulled out a thick, matte-black envelope with gold foil lettering, and slid it across the marble tabletop toward Leo.

"What is this?" Leo asked.

"An invitation," Croft replied. "In two days, there is a closed-door asset auction at the Grand Horizon Club. It’s not open to the public, and you can't buy a ticket with a credit card. They are auctioning off seized corporate debts, distressed real estate notes, and primary shipping licenses from the docks."

Leo looked down at the heavy envelope resting by his cup.

"A young man who can drop a hundred and fifty thousand dollars on a hotel suite without blinking belongs in that room," Croft said, standing up from his chair. "Real power isn't about buying sports cars to impress tennis instructors, Leo. It's about owning the land under their feet. I hope to see you there."

Croft turned and walked out of the lounge, his security team falling into step behind him.

Leo picked up the black envelope, feeling the thick paper between his fingers.

Inside his mind, the air flickered, and a faint crimson text burned softly before fading away.

[Information Gathered: Leroy Family Vulnerability Unlocked.]

[Asset Auction Invitation Acquired.]