2025-08-04 02:06:49
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015: Brewing Tension
At the mention of the name, everyone available in the grand hall turned toward the entrance to witness the arrival of General Ace, along with his entourage flanking behind him.Lucas narrowed his vision as he stared at General Ace. He had heard about his legendary reputation in the force and his five-star general honour for guarding the borders from enemy men, with countless victories under his belt.He was someone respected and valued in the country, so what would someone of such status be doing at an event of this magnitude? It didn’t quite fit right.‘I wonder what brought him to the occasion, what’s his connection with her family?’ he thought as he watched him move from the entrance straight to Mr. Abuelo.He stopped right in front of Mr. Abuelo, with the posture of a soldier, as he welcomed him to the banquet.His personal aide then stepped forward and handed over the gift to Mr. Abuelo, wrapped in expensive wrappers.“This... is my gift to you,” General Ace spoke with a smile.M
014: Arrival
As the murmurs over the Yanhuang Wine gradually faded, Mr Alberto leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable, but his gaze locked with the unassuming man across the room. A hundred glittering guests watched in silence, waiting. The old man finally spoke, voice carrying effortlessly across the hall. “Young man,” he said, tapping a finger against his wine cup, “a wine like this isn’t something just anyone could obtain.” He paused, eyes narrowing with interest. “What do you do?” The man didn’t flinch under the scrutiny. But for the briefest instant, his expression wavered, something behind the eyes, before he replied with calm simplicity. “I was a medical professor,” he said. “I was recently laid off.” A ripple of surprise rolled through the room like a shift in air pressure. A professor? And yet he dressed like… that? The stark black shirt.No timepiece, and there is no visible brand. He didn’t even have a family name anyone could recall. One of the younger heirs mutt
013: Banquette
The grand ballroom of the Imperial Heights Hotel shimmered under crystal chandeliers. Gilded columns framed the space, and soft music floated through the air, barely masking the buzz of anticipation. The city’s elite filled the hall—politicians, CEOs, legacy families—all gathered to honor Mr Alberto Bellingham, the ailing business magnate whose name still made boardrooms tremble. At the center of the room, a hush settled as Almonde Black stepped forward. Dressed in a jet-black tuxedo that hugged his frame a little too deliberately, he moved with the self-assurance of someone used to applause. In his hands: a lacquered rosewood box. He placed it gently before Mr Alberto and opened it with a dramatic flick. Inside, nestled in silk, lay a thousand-year-old ginseng—its roots twisted like aged fingers, its scent earthy and sharp even from a distance. Almonde bowed slightly. “A small token of admiration,” he said, voice smooth as oil. “This ginseng is the rarest in our collection. A t
012. Goldmaster 2
Pamela stood behind him with a faint smile on her face, watching everyone praise Gold Master. Then she turned to Lucas. “Maybe he’s not so bad after all.” As the continuous chant slowly died down, some people became curious about how he was able to figure out that the antiques were all fake and decided to question him. “But how were you able to detect that they’re fake artifacts?” Mr. Gerald Thorne proceeded to ask, curiosity getting the better of him. Lucas was already expecting questions like this after he solved the case, so he had already prepared himself ahead of time with the words he would cloud their minds with. “Well, to be honest, it wasn’t easy to detect that they were fake. It was only possible because I studied archaeology as a student back in college, and I just happened to like documentaries, so I studied it in my free time along with antiques.” Gerald Thorne was amazed by his response, and so were some of the other guests. “Wow, what a magnificent student he is.
011. Goldmaster
He had just interrupted Jackie.Goldmaster’s right-hand man.Whispers erupted like wildfire.“Is he insane? He just told Jackie to wait—”“Who the hell does he think he is?”All eyes were on Lucas now. But he stood there, perfectly calm.The elite guests stood rooted, their collective breath caught in a web of disbelief. Whispers rippled through the crowd, sharp and urgent, as eyes darted between Jackie and Lucas.“Did you see that?” a woman hissed to her companion, who shook his head, lips pursed, as if denying it could undo the sight. Across the room, a silver-haired tycoon muttered, “Impossible. Jackie doesn’t bow—not to anyone.” His words carried conviction, but his furrowed brow betrayed doubt. “It’s a mistake, right? A trick of the light?” another voice trembled, seeking reassurance, but their eyes stayed glued to Jackie’s lowering head.“No way,” he murmured, more to himself than the cluster of guests around him. “Jackie’s the king here, this kid’s a nobody.” Yet, as Jackie
010. Jackie
“A fake? Are you saying someone sold a fake at a Goldmaster auction? That’s impossible!”“You again!” a cold voice snapped, slicing through the murmurs of the crowd.“You've caused enough disruption.”Heads turned as a tall man in a crimson brocade suit strode forward from the shadows of the side wing. His presence radiated power. It was Alex Bulford, the true boss behind the auction.He stopped in front of Lucas, his gaze sharp and accusing.“I know your type,” Alex sneered, voice dripping with contempt.“Nothing is going for you in your own life, so you show up here—hoping to feel important on my turf.”He took a slow step forward, clearly enjoying the rising tension in the room.“A failure. Useless. Probably can’t even hold down a real job, huh?” His grin curled like a knife. “And now you’re here, trying to play hero? Who gave you the guts?”Alex raised a hand and pointed lazily at the door.“I’ll count to three,” he said. “If you’re still standing there when I’m done—don’t blame
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