The Last Successor

Chapter 12: The Black Ledger’s Warning

The light rain outside the main office of Northwind Logistics gradually faded into a steady, cold drizzle. Inside the second-floor director’s office, a single desk lamp cast a warm, golden glow across the dark wood.

Adrian sat behind the heavy desk that had belonged to Director Thomas for forty years. Before him lay the Black Book—a thick, leather-bound volume whose pages seemed to absorb the light. On his right index finger, the dark iron Sovereign Ring gleamed softly, pulsing with a faint warmth whenever his skin made contact with the ancient paper.

Winston stood near the tall glass window, his polished mahogany cane resting lightly against his knee. Director Thomas stood respectfully on the other side of the desk, his calloused hands clasped in front of his faded blue uniform.

"Young Master," Winston began smoothly, breaking the quiet hum of the room. "The arrest of Haryo Prasetyo and the seizure of Ironclad’s local assets have secured Pier 14 for the time being. However, we must be clear: Ironclad was merely a small tool used by The Forge."

Adrian turned a page in the Black Book. Under the Founder Protocol Level 1 authority, the book did not merely display historical records; it decrypted real-time data feeds, showing financial networks, supply routes, and local corporate ties.

"They won't attack with force again so soon," Adrian said quietly, his voice calm and measured. "Men like those in The Forge prefer to use the systems they control to strangle their enemies quietly. Thomas, what is the exact status of our current fleet?"

Thomas stepped forward, holding a worn leather ledger against his chest. "We have eight heavy transport trucks fully operational, Tuan Adrian. The rest are still held under administrative review by the port authority—a leftover order from Ironclad's friends in the city council. Furthermore, our primary local contract expires at the end of this week."

"Which contract?" Adrian asked.

"The building material supply route for the Sterling Group's commercial plaza project," Thomas answered, a frown creasing his weathered forehead. "Raymond Sterling signed that contract with us six months ago only because our rates were fifty percent lower than market price. He has been withholding our final payment of two hundred thousand dollars, claiming our trucks were 'chronically late'."

Adrian looked down at his father’s old mechanical watch. The second hand moved with a steady, unhurried tick.

"Raymond held back that money deliberately,"

Adrian thought.

"He wanted to starve Northwind so Ironclad could buy it for pocket change. He used my family’s suffering as his personal leverage."

"Do not request the payment from Raymond," Adrian instructed, closing the Black Book with a soft thud. "Let him keep the two hundred thousand dollars for now."

Thomas looked confused. "Tuan Adrian? That money could cover our drivers' wages for the next two months!"

"If you demand the money now, Raymond will use his legal team to freeze Northwind's remaining accounts in court," Winston explained softly, a sharp smile touching his lips. "The Young Master is allowing Raymond to dig his own grave. When a man believes he has stolen from you with impunity, he becomes careless."

Adrian stood up from the desk, buttoning his dark jacket. "Thomas, prepare the eight trucks. But do not assign them to Raymond's construction route tomorrow."

"Where should I send them, Young Master?"

"To the independent textile mills in the western industrial zone," Adrian replied, his gray eyes fixing on the window. "A small garment company there is about to lose its transport provider."

Early the next morning, inside the bustling office of the Sterling Group’s commercial department, Raymond Sterling sat behind his wide glass desk. His jaw was still wrapped in a white bandage from the incident at the birthday party, but his face was flushed with arrogance.

Sitting across from him was his younger sister, Chloe, who was holding her phone, scrolling through social media comments with a sour expression.

"Raymond," Chloe whined, setting her phone down. "Why hasn't that delivery boy signed the divorce papers yet? People online are still asking why Elena's husband isn't at the family office!"

"Shut up about Adrian!" Raymond snapped, taking a sip of black coffee. "He’s a nobody! The lawyers are handling it. Once his dying mother drains his last dollar, he'll crawl back and sign whatever we put in front of him."

Suddenly, the office door opened, and Raymond's chief logistics manager rushed inside, looking pale.

"CEO Raymond! We have a major problem at the plaza construction site!" the manager gasped.

Raymond frowned angrily. "What problem? Did the concrete arrive?"

"No, sir! Northwind Logistics just pulled all eight of their heavy transport trucks off our route! They didn't show up at the cement yard this morning!"

Raymond slammed his coffee cup onto the desk, spilling dark liquid across his papers. "What?! How dare that old fool Thomas pull his trucks! Call him right now! Tell him if his trucks aren't at the site in one hour, I will sue Northwind into absolute bankruptcy!"

"I... I already called Director Thomas, sir," the manager stammered, stepping back nervously. "He said... he said our contract was officially terminated due to non-payment of the two hundred thousand dollar balance."

"Terminated?!" Raymond stood up, his face turning red with rage. "They are a dying company! Where else are they going to get business in this city?!"

"They... they just signed an exclusive shipping agreement with a small garment distribution firm this morning, sir," the manager whispered. "The firm owned by Miss Elena."

Raymond froze, his eyes widening in pure shock. "Elena's company?!"