The Shadow Billionaire

CHAPTER 3: BLACK MARKET BLOOD MONEY

Raindrops left filthy puddles across a disputed ice factory courtyard on city outskirts of South District. A faint stench of ammonia mixed with raw fish from a nearby port, creating a nauseating combination in air around them.

Leon's matte black Toyota van stopped right in front of rusty, graffiti-covered iron doors.

Sliding doors pulled open, letting humid air rush inside. Kaelen lowered his uninjured right foot onto wet asphalt, then grabbed a pair of aluminum crutches. Clenching his jaw tightly to endure throbbing pain from his left leg cast, he hauled his body weight out of Leon's cabin.

Every time those crutch tips hit solid ground, vibrations traveled up his spine, reminding him of that surgical drill piercing his tibia just two hours ago. However, his posture remained perfectly straight. A well-fitted black suit Leon had grabbed from a safe house hid his rumpled shirt. Kaelen knew one absolute rule about places like this: once enemies notice your pain, they consider it an opening.

Two giant men with tattoos creeping up their necks stepped out from beneath a factory canopy. They wasted no time asking questions, as their rough hands immediately frisked Kaelen and Leon from top to bottom, ensuring no hidden firearms or listening devices were present.

Satisfied with their search, one guard tapped an access card against a panel hidden behind stacked wooden pallets. Heavy iron doors slid open, revealing a narrow hallway illuminated by dim neon lights.

Leon walked half a step ahead of Kaelen, his eyes scanning every corner of that corridor. At their path's end, a massive cold storage room had been dismantled and converted into an illegal operations office. Thick foam soundproofing covered its walls, while stacks of cash in plastic bags, fireproof steel safes, and two money-counting machines cluttered this space.

Right in middle of this room, sitting casually behind a solid teakwood desk, a middle-aged man puffed on a Cuban cigar. He left three top buttons of his silk batik shirt undone, exposing a gold necklace as thick as a motorcycle chain. Pockmarks covered his face, yet his eyes radiated calculating instincts of a financial predator.

Baskoro. A loan shark who ruled black market credit. He was a man who funded smuggling syndicates, drug cartels, and dirty politicians needing untraceable campaign funds.

"Local news broadcasts are incredibly entertaining tonight," Baskoro greeted with a mocking tone while blowing thick cigar smoke into open air without bothering to stand. "Media outlets are calling you a suit-wearing rat who swindled trillions of rupiah from Herman Suryanegara. Yet here you are, limping, reeking of anesthetics, and stepping into my cage. You look like a man running from death, Kaelen."

Kaelen did not answer immediately. He slowly stepped toward that teak desk, completely ignoring two guards armed with short-barreled rifles standing by in opposite corners. He refused a plastic chair provided for him, knowing that sitting down would only expose his physical weakness when he had to stand back up.

"Media outlets only write what Herman pays them to write," Kaelen stated in a calm, flat tone without a hint of defensiveness, while his voice pierced low hums of an air conditioner. "I am not running from anyone, Baskoro. I came here for business."

Hoarse laughter escaped this loan shark's throat. Baskoro leaned forward, crushing his cigar stump into a crystal ashtray until its embers died out.

"Business?" Baskoro scoffed with a condescending sneer while staring right at his guest. "Prosecutors froze your bank accounts two hours ago, and Herman stripped away all your legal shields. Technically, you are a homeless fugitive. What kind of assets can you possibly use as collateral?"

"Information," Kaelen answered firmly with an unwavering gaze while gripping his crutches tighter. "And an opportunity to double your money within twenty-four hours."

Baskoro narrowed his eyes, clearly not immediately intrigued. A man like him had heard promises of quick profits from desperate people far too many times.

"I need ten billion rupiah in cash, tonight," Kaelen declared in a commanding voice while stating his terms without any hesitation. "I will use it as a security deposit for a land-use rights auction at City Hall tomorrow morning at ten."

Baskoro fell silent for a moment. He tapped his index fingernail against his desk surface before staring down at Kaelen's cast-wrapped leg.

"Ten billion is not a small number to hand out at midnight to a fugitive," Baskoro mused in a calculating tone while raising one eyebrow. "My interest rate is thirty percent. You have three days to return thirteen billion into my hands."

Leon tensed up beside Kaelen.

"If you are late by even one day, our deal changes," Baskoro continued with a deadly flat voice while locking eyes with his target. "I will take something from your body as collateral, and I have absolutely no interest in houses or cars."

Leon's left hand instinctively drifted toward a tactical knife sheath hidden beneath his jacket. However, Kaelen's expression remained completely unchanged.

"I can accept your interest rate, but I do not need three days," Kaelen countered in a confident tone while leaning forward and resting some of his body weight on his crutches. "I will return thirteen billion by tomorrow afternoon, right after lunch hour."

Utter silence suddenly filled their room, prompting two guards in both corners to exchange confused glances.

"You want to borrow ten billion just for an auction tomorrow morning?" Baskoro scoffed with deep amusement while letting out a soft snort. "What kind of land are you planning to buy? Opening prices for premium plots in this capital start at hundreds of billions."

"I am not targeting premium land," Kaelen explained with an icy calm voice while straightening his posture. "Bastian Suryanegara wants Sector Six for five hundred billion to build a massive data center. He desperately needs that flagship project to prove he is worthy of replacing me as CEO."

"And you intend to snatch it from him?" Baskoro asked in a curious tone while raising his eyebrows.

"No, I intend to make him pay far too much to acquire it," Kaelen replied with a sinister edge to his voice while flashing a subtle smirk.

For a very first time tonight, a faint smile appeared on Baskoro's lips.

"Right next to Sector Six lies Sector Four, an abandoned swampland previously used by a chemical factory," Kaelen elaborated in a highly professional tone while maintaining absolute eye contact. "Its opening price is only thirty billion rupiah."

"That dirt looks completely unappealing to most investors," Kaelen continued with a steady cadence while shifting his stance slightly. "Their problem is they only look at surface value."

Baskoro did not interrupt.

"Obsidian discovered something hidden inside old zoning documents," Kaelen revealed in a hushed, conspiratorial tone while holding Baskoro's full attention. "Beneath Sector Four is a deep groundwater source reserved for heavy industrial needs, and more importantly, extraction permits are permanently tied to that specific land's usage rights."

"And Bastian's data center?" Baskoro questioned with an intrigued growl while narrowing his eyes sharply.

"His cooling systems require a massive, stable water supply," Kaelen answered in a matter-of-fact tone while gripping his crutch handles tightly. "If he buys Sector Six without controlling that supply route, his project will require enormous additional costs to build an alternative pipeline."

Baskoro slowly exhaled another plume of cigar smoke.

"So you want to purchase Sector Four?" Baskoro asked with a calculating drawl while resting his hands on his desk.

"I only need to secure its usage rights before Bastian realizes its true value," Kaelen declared in a ruthless tone while staring down this loan shark. "After that, I can sell access to whichever party needs it most."

"And you are confident someone will pay a premium price?" Baskoro challenged with a skeptical chuckle while leaning back in his chair.

"I already have two potential buyers looking for alternative locations for their own data center projects," Kaelen stated with absolute certainty while holding his gaze without blinking. "I do not need to sell dirt; I just need to sell something Bastian lacks."

Baskoro's cigar paused mid-air.

"Access," Baskoro concluded in a realization-filled whisper while nodding slowly.

"Precisely," Kaelen confirmed in a low voice while giving a brief nod.

"Once Bastian wins Sector Six, he will face two choices," Kaelen continued in a cold, analytical tone while analyzing his trap out loud. "He can either pay my asking price or confess to his board of directors that his flagship project requires unexpected additional investments they never accounted for."

Silence fell over their room once more, until Baskoro's laughter finally erupted. It was not a mocking laugh, but rather a short chuckle proving he finally saw immense value in this gamble.

"You magnificent bastard," Baskoro swore with a highly amused tone while shaking his head in disbelief. "You are not even trying to steal his project. You are simply forcing his project to need you."

Kaelen did not smile.

"I am merely taking something they consider worthless," Kaelen replied with a chillingly calm voice while shifting his weight on his crutches.

Baskoro stared at him for a few seconds before finally opening a drawer in his teak desk. He pulled out an offshore bank token device.

"Give your shell company's bank account number to my men," Baskoro ordered in a businesslike tone while tossing his device onto a desk. "Ten billion will land in ten minutes."

"Thirteen billion returns tomorrow before two in afternoon," Baskoro added with a deadly serious voice while pausing to glare at his client. "If you fail, I will come collect it myself."

"Handle your administration with Leon," Kaelen instructed with a dismissive tone while giving a slow, single nod. "I need to prepare for tomorrow morning's performance."

Morning sunlight pierced through stained glass windows at an Executive Auction House located right in this capital's central business district. Black granite floors reflected silhouettes of property tycoons, politicians, and investment directors gathering in an expansive lobby while holding champagne glasses. Inside this very building, city layouts were decided through numbered placards and massive ego clashes.

Clocks showed nine forty-five. Fifteen minutes remained before main auction room doors would officially open.

Bastian Suryanegara stood in a VIP corner surrounded by three senior directors from his father's company. That young heir looked flawless wearing a dark blue double-breasted suit. An arrogant smile never left his face as he accepted early congratulations from several competitors who smartly backed down from claiming Sector Six.

Standing gracefully beside him, Valerie wore a knee-length ivory dress. She occasionally checked her phone screen, ensuring market manipulation news about her former fiancé remained pinned on her media portal's front page. Everything proceeded exactly according to plan, as Suryanegara Dynasty had never looked more dominant.

Main glass revolving doors suddenly began to move. Lobby chatter slowly died down, prompting executives to turn toward an entrance one by one. Whispers started spreading, sweeping across this room like wildfire consuming dry grass.

Bastian frowned upon noticing this sudden shift in atmosphere. He set his drink aside and turned around.

Kaelen stepped inside through those glass doors. His steps were slow, heavily supported by a pair of aluminum crutches. A white cast binding his left leg was clearly visible from suit trousers intentionally cut at knee length. His face remained pale, bearing obvious traces of a brutal midnight surgery.

However, a black suit wrapping his body fit perfectly, keeping his shoulder posture immaculately straight. His gaze swept across every corner with freezing calmness, completely ignoring disgusted stares, shocked gasps, and sneers from dozens of billionaires surrounding him.

Leon walked closely behind Kaelen while carrying a leather briefcase. That hard-faced man had just finished depositing their ten billion rupiah transfer proof at a front registration desk, and he now held auction placard number 47.

Valerie held her breath as her eyes widened slightly. Kaelen was supposed to be rotting on a run or hiding under a bridge waiting for prosecutors to arrest him. His presence at this elite event, bearing a broken leg and a fugitive status, utterly destroyed every piece of financial logic Valerie understood.

Bastian marched forward through an opening crowd, blocking Kaelen's path toward main room doors. His arrogant smirk returned instantly.

"I am genuinely surprised organizers do not filter homeless beggars out of this building," Bastian mocked in a deliberately loud voice while making sure every lobby guest heard him. 

Several Suryanegara colleagues joined in with degrading chuckles.

Kaelen halted his steps. His aluminum crutch tips struck granite flooring, creating a sharp clack.

"Did you come to beg for a job, Kael? Or do you want to borrow money from me to hire a cheap lawyer?" Bastian taunted with a triumphant sneer while crossing his arms and glaring down at Kaelen's cast. "Too bad, all cleaning service positions at my company are currently full."

"Go home, Kael," Valerie pleaded with a fake, pitying tone while stepping up behind Bastian. "You are finished. Humiliating yourself here will not change a fact that your bank accounts possess absolutely zero balance."

Kaelen did not respond instantly. He stared at Bastian's face, then shifted his gaze toward Valerie without any explosive anger. Reaching into his suit pocket, he pulled out a silk handkerchief Bastian had thrown in his face last night, then casually dropped it onto shiny floors right at Bastian's leather shoes.

"I did not come here seeking employment, Bastian," Kaelen stated in a quiet but crystal-clear voice while commanding absolute silence across an entire lobby. "I came to witness firsthand exactly how stupidly you burn your father's money."

Without waiting for a reply, Kaelen swung his crutches forward, forcing Bastian to shift his shoulders out of his way to avoid getting hit.

Bastian's face flushed bright red from suppressed embarrassment, but he swallowed his curses just as a loud auction bell rang loudly.

Auction doors swung open, prompting participants to enter and take their designated seats. Kaelen walked inside without looking back, while Leon trailed slightly behind him carrying their numbered placard.

Once every participant settled into their seats, an auctioneer tapped a wooden gavel on his podium to demand attention.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," an auctioneer announced with a booming, professional voice while scanning a crowded room. "Bidding for Sector Six land-use rights will commence immediately."

Kaelen leaned his body weight heavily on his crutches before raising a placard high in his hand.

"Fifty-one billion," Kaelen declared in a cold, echoing tone while staring straight at a podium in front of him.

His sudden bid instantly made several heads turn. Bastian, who had been sitting confidently in a front row, immediately whipped around to see who had just opened bidding.

A cocky smile slowly vanished from his face when his gaze met Kaelen's eyes.

Bastian had not yet realized that Kaelen never came to steal Sector Six away from him. He had arrived specifically to force Bastian to raise prices himself until that exact project transformed into a massive financial burden for Suryanegara Capital.

And for Kaelen, this auction was never about who acquired that property. It was purely about discovering exactly how much money Bastian was willing to pay to destroy his own empire.