The Ultimate God-King

5

The room fell into absolute, suffocating silence.

John’s hands shook as he gripped the phone. “W-what? Director Karim… what did I do wrong?!” His voice rose, cracking slightly under panic. “I-I followed procedure, I secured the investment! Why… why am I being fired?!”

From the phone, Karim’s furious voice thundered again, carrying authority that silenced the room:

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, John Gaston! Don’t you know who you offended?!”

The words hung in the air.

Every head in the hall turned slowly toward Conor. Murmurs began to ripple through the room—sharp, questioning, incredulous.

Could this calm, simple and composed man really be someone… important?

A big shot?

Conor remained completely still, hands casually in his pockets, expression perfectly unreadable.

Ronan’s grip on his cane tightened. For the first time, uncertainty crept into his aged, commanding voice.

“You…” His sharp eyes locked onto Conor. “Who exactly are you?”

The question hung in the air.

All eyes fixed on Conor—waiting.

But before Conor could even open his mouth—

“IT WAS HIM—IT MUST BE HIM!!”

John suddenly collapsed to his knees with a loud thud, his voice breaking into panicked sobs.

Everyone startled.

John clutched his head, his face pale and drenched in cold sweat. “At the airport… that man… that mysterious man who got into DragonTech’s car…”

His voice trembled uncontrollably.

“I—I spoke rudely to him! I mocked him… I didn’t recognize him at all!” He looked up in horror, his entire body shaking. “I thought… I thought he was just some nobody… someone no one would care about!”

Gasps spread across the hall.

Emma’s eyes widened.

Her lips parted, her pupils shrinking as the memory slammed back into her mind.

“Oh my God…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “The airport… that motorcade…”

Then her gaze snapped between John and Conor, her breathing quickening.

For a split second, fear flickered across her face.

But then—

It hardened.

Her expression twisted, the shock quickly replaced by something sharper even uglier.

Resentment.

“No.” Emma suddenly straightened, her voice rising sharply. “No, that’s impossible.”

All eyes turned to her.

She pointed directly at Conor, her finger trembling slightly—but her tone growing louder, more forceful with every word.

“Everyone, don’t be ridiculous!” she snapped. “You’re seriously going to believe him? Look at him! Does he look like some powerful figure who can fire a DragonTech manager with a single phone call?!”

A ripple of hesitation moved through the crowd.

Emma seized it immediately.

“This is clearly just a coincidence!” she continued, her voice dripping with certainty. “John offended someone important at the airport!”

She let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

“And now he’s just standing there, acting all calm and mysterious, letting you all misunderstand the situation!”

Her eyes narrowed at Conor, filled with disdain.

“You really are shameless,” she said coldly. “Putting on this act like you’re some hidden big shot? What, you think staying quiet makes you look powerful?”

She scoffed loudly.

“Let me tell you something—real powerful people don’t need to play these cheap tricks!”

John, still on his knees, froze slightly—her words clearly shaking his already fragile state.

Emma stepped closer, her voice growing even sharper, almost hysterical.

“You’re just a liar!” she accused. “A nobody who got lucky! You think you can scare us with silence and coincidence?!”

She turned to the others, raising her voice.

“Use your brains! If he really had that kind of power, why would he show up dressed like this? Why would Olivia hide him for years? Why would no one have ever heard of him?!”

The room fell into thoughtful murmurs again.

“Yes… that makes sense…”

“She’s right…”

“How could someone that powerful be unknown…”

Seeing the shift, Emma pressed on, her confidence surging.

“He’s just taking advantage of John’s mistake!” she declared triumphantly. “That’s all this is!”

Carl, who had been pale and silent moments ago, suddenly let out a relieved chuckle.

“Hah… so that’s it.”

He shook his head, his earlier fear completely gone, replaced with disdain.

“I almost believed it,” he said, looking at Conor with open contempt. “For a moment, I thought you might actually be someone important.”

He stepped forward, his tone turning arrogant again.

“But now? It’s obvious.”

He smirked.

“Your little trick has been exposed.”

Ronan’s face darkened, his earlier uncertainty now replaced by simmering anger.

His cane struck the floor heavily.

“So,” he said coldly, glaring at Conor, “you dared to toy with the Nelson family?”

Olivia stood frozen, her thoughts in complete disarray.

Her eyes drifted to Conor.

Calm. Composed. Unbothered.

It didn’t make sense.

Who are you…? she wondered silently. A liar? Or… something else entirely?

Before she could piece it together—

The front doors slammed open with a loud BANG!

Everyone jumped.

Heavy footsteps echoed across the marble floor as a group of men swaggered in, their presence instantly suffocating the room.

They were rough—thick arms covered in crude tattoos, gold chains glinting under the chandelier lights, leather jackets hanging loosely over broad shoulders.

Their faces were scarred, expressions vicious, eyes scanning the room like predators.

The man in front cracked his neck, chewing gum lazily as he stepped forward.

“Which one of you is John?” he barked, voice loud and coarse. “We’re here to collect a debt.”

The room went still.

John’s face drained of all color.

“I—I…” His lips trembled. “Y-you’ve got the wrong time! The loan… it’s not due for another six months!”

The leader let out a harsh laugh.

“Six months?” he repeated mockingly.

Then—

SMACK!

The sound of the slap echoed brutally through the hall.

John was sent stumbling sideways, collapsing to the ground.

“You think we’re idiots?” the thug sneered, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up. “You’ve already been fired from DragonTech. You got no income, no backing—what, you thought you could still stall us?”

John’s entire body shook violently. “N-no… no, I can explain—”

Emma stepped forward, panic flashing across her face. “Wait—what money? What are you talking about?!”

One of the thugs snorted, looking her up and down with amusement.

“You don’t know?” he said. “This man here owes us five hundred thousand dollars.”

He grinned, showing yellowed teeth.

“Gambling debt.”

Emma’s world seemed to spin.

“Five… hundred… thousand…?” she whispered.

Her knees nearly buckled.

Her “perfect boyfriend”… the successful DragonTech manager… the man she had flaunted so proudly…

Unemployed.

In debt.

Ruined.

John, who had just managed to stand moments ago, suddenly dropped to his knees again with a thud, far more desperate than before.

“I—I don’t have money!” he cried, his voice breaking into sobs. “It’s all in the stock market—I just need time! Please!”

He turned frantically toward Emma, crawling slightly in her direction.

“Emma! Help me! You’re part of the Nelson family—you can cover this, right?! I’ll pay it back, I swear!”

Emma recoiled instantly, as if he had tried to grab her.

“Don’t touch me!” she snapped, her face twisted with anger and disgust. “What does this have to do with me?!”

Her voice rose sharply.

“You said you were successful! You said you had everything under control! And now you’re telling me you’re drowning in gambling debt?!”

“I—I didn’t want you to worry—” John stammered.

“Shut up!” Emma cut him off viciously. “You have nothing to do with the Nelson family! Don’t drag me into your mess!”

The thugs exchanged amused glances.

“Nothing to do with you?” the leader said slowly, cracking his knuckles. “Funny… that’s not what he’s been telling us.”

He jerked his chin toward John.

“This guy’s been bragging nonstop. Said he’s about to marry into the Nelson family. Said you people are loaded.”

His eyes swept across the lavish hall, lingering on the expensive furnishings.

“So we figured…” he continued with a grin, “collecting our money here would be easy.”

Ronan’s face darkened with fury. “This is outrageous! You dare come into my house and make such demands?!”

The thug leader didn’t even flinch.

“Old man,” he said lazily, “we don’t care about your pride. Money’s money.”

He glanced around again.

“If he can’t pay…” His lips curled. “We’ll just take something of equal value.”

A few of the men began eyeing the room greedily—antique vases, paintings, jewelry on display.

Panic spread instantly among the Nelson family members.

“Y-you can’t do that!”

“Call the police!”

“Someone stop them!”

But the thugs only laughed.

Then—

One of them suddenly paused.

His gaze landed on Olivia.

He froze for a second… then broke into a slow, leering grin.

“Well now…” he drawled, stepping forward. “Didn’t notice her before.”

The others followed his gaze.

A few whistles sounded.

“Boss,” the man chuckled, “our strip club just opened last month, right?”

The leader raised a brow.

The thug jerked his chin toward Olivia, eyes gleaming with crude interest.

“Taking that beauty back as a dancer…” he said, smirking, “should cover a good chunk of the debt, don’t you think?”