The Metropolitan Dragon: 10 Candies of Destiny

Chapter 4: The First Slap

The city lights seemed to bow before Bara as he exited the luxury sedan, his silhouette sharp against the backdrop of the Zenith Gala. He wasn't the man who had been tossed into the gutter; he was a man who owned the gutter, the street, and the building that loomed ahead. Beside him, Sari looked transformed in a shimmering emerald gown, her nervousness masked by the protective, warm aura that Bara’s [Heart of the Loyal] ability constantly radiated.

"Are you sure about this?" Sari whispered, clutching his arm. "If they have security like they did at the Grand Aurelia, we’re going to be out on the sidewalk before you can even say 'hello'."

Bara adjusted his cufflinks, the black silk of his bespoke suit feeling like a second skin. "Let them try, Sari. The world has a new set of rules tonight."

They approached the entrance of the gala, a sprawling ballroom where the city’s elite converged to flaunt their status. A security guard, built like a concrete pillar, stepped forward to block their path. He squinted at Bara, his expression shifting from routine boredom to confusion.

"Invitation?" the guard grunted.

Bara didn't reach for a card. He simply stared, the golden flicker in his pupils manifesting with a subtle, hypnotic pressure. "I don't carry paper for events that are already failing," Bara said, his voice smooth and resonant. "Tell the host that Bara—and his partner—are here to discuss the Eastern Tech merger. If you want to keep your job, I suggest you step aside."

The guard blinked, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to recall a forgotten memory. He suddenly stiffened, pulling his hand back as if burned. "Sir... right. Apologies. Please, go ahead."

As they stepped into the ballroom, the atmosphere hit them like a tidal wave of expensive cologne and artificial laughter. It was a sea of crystal chandeliers and backstabbing socialites. Nadia, the woman who had been snapping photos of her latte back at the Grand Aurelia, stood near the champagne tower, her eyes widening as she recognized Bara. She dropped her flute, the glass shattering in a sharp clink that drew eyes from across the room.

Cindy stood near the center, draped in diamonds that seemed to scream for attention. Beside her, Adrian was holding court, his ego inflating the space around him like a balloon.

"Is that... is that the bus-boy?" Nadia hissed, pointing.

The room quieted. Adrian turned, his condescending smirk freezing in place when he saw Bara walking with the steady, predatory gait of a king. Cindy’s mouth fell open, her face draining of color.

"You," Cindy breathed, her voice trembling with a cocktail of shock and rising indignation. "How are you inside? Did you steal an invitation?"

Bara walked right up to them, stopping just inches away. He didn't look at Cindy; he looked at the stock ticker running on the massive screens around the ballroom, which was currently showcasing Adrian’s primary investment.

"Steal?" Bara laughed, a low, rich sound. "Adrian, I heard you were trying to push that Eastern Tech acquisition through by midnight. It’s a bold move. Very ambitious. Too bad it’s going to crater in exactly forty-five minutes."

Adrian stepped forward, his face flushing a dangerous shade of crimson. "You think you can come in here, wearing a suit you probably rented with a stolen credit card, and talk finance? Get out, Bara. You’re making the room smell like poverty."

The guests began to snicker, but the sound died out as Bara tapped his phone screen, projecting a holographic data stream into the air between them—a feat of technology that made the surrounding elite gasp.

"Check the satellite feed on your own servers, Adrian," Bara said, his voice calm, almost bored. "The manufacturing plants in the Eastern sector have already been hit by the sanctions. Your supply chain is ghost-code. You aren't buying a company; you’re buying a sinking ship. If you sign those papers tonight, your entire firm will be liquidated by morning."

Adrian’s jaw dropped. He pulled out his phone, his thumb flying across the screen. As the seconds ticked by, his face transformed from arrogance to absolute, white-knuckled terror. He tapped furiously, his breathing hitching. "No... no, that’s impossible. My analysts said—"

"Your analysts are playing checkers. I’m playing chess," Bara interrupted. He turned his attention to Cindy, who was staring at him as if seeing a ghost. "You told me I was a grain of sand, Cindy. You were right. Sand gets everywhere, doesn't it? It gets into the gears. It grinds the machine to a halt. It’s what keeps the world from moving exactly the way you want it to."

Cindy recoiled, her hand going to her throat. "Bara, look, I... I didn't know you were capable of—"

Bara didn't let her finish. He simply offered a small, dismissive smile and turned his back on her, focusing entirely on Sari. "Let’s get a drink, Sari. The air here has become remarkably thin."

As they walked toward the bar, leaving a stunned, silent ballroom behind them, the [Market Foresight] ability pulsed in Bara’s mind, showing him the cascading failure of Adrian’s stocks in real-time. It was like watching a slow-motion car crash, and for the first time, he was the one holding the steering wheel.

Sari leaned into him, her hand gripping his sleeve. "You did that perfectly. Did you see his face? He looked like he wanted to jump out of a window."

Bara chuckled, feeling the warmth of the Caramel Essence swirling through his core. "That was only the appetizer. I’m not just going to beat them, Sari. I’m going to make sure they never have the strength to look down on anyone ever again."

Across the room, Adrian stood paralyzed, his phone clutched so tightly his knuckles were white. The investors who had been hovering around him were already backing away, their eyes darting toward the exits as they realized the magnitude of the financial disaster unfolding on their screens.

Adrian looked up, his eyes meeting Bara’s across the distance. It was a gaze filled with raw, unadulterated hatred. He didn't say a word, but his lips moved in a silent vow: I will ruin you by sunrise.

Bara saw it, of course. He caught the desperate, dying rage in Adrian’s eyes and merely raised his glass in a mock toast. He turned back to the crowd, the golden light in his eyes flaring just once—a warning to anyone else who might be thinking of crossing him.

—System Alert: Objective ‘Expansion’ in progress. Social Influence: 35%. Financial dominance: Imminent.—

Bara didn't need the system to tell him he had won the night. He could feel it in the way the crowd parted for them, in the way Sari looked at him with wonder, and in the way the entire room felt like a stage set specifically for his grand entrance.

"Shall we go?" Sari asked, her voice soft but filled with a new, quiet confidence.

"Not yet," Bara replied, his eyes scanning the room for his next move. "We have to wait for the sunset to be complete. After all, the best part of the show is watching the firework go off."

He stood amidst the elite, no longer a smudge on their pristine painting, but the brush that was about to repaint the entire canvas. He was hungry, he was powerful, and as he looked at the shattered pride of those who had once mocked him, he knew one thing for certain: the dragon was only just starting to stretch its wings.