The blind servant is a trillionaire

The quiet room smelled like expensive cigars and eucalyptus.

Griffin pressed his thumbs deep into the thick shoulder muscles of the man on the massage table. The man groaned loudly. 

"Deeper." CEO Kastor commanded. His voice was muffled by the padded table. "I carry a lot of stress on my shoulders. You people need to work harder for your tips."

Griffin did not say a word. He simply shifted his weight and pressed harder.

He stared down at the billionaire. Griffin wore special milky white contact lenses. They completely clouded his dark eyes. They made him look completely blind. He also wore a small hearing aid prop in his left ear.

To the billionaires at the Apex Country Club, Griffin was just a blind, deaf mute. He was a piece of cheap furniture. He was completely invisible.

The expensive smartphone on the nearby counter buzzed loudly.

Kastor reached out blindly and grabbed it. He pressed it to his ear.

"Hale." Kastor said sharply. "Tell me you have the union leaders in the pocket."

Griffin kept his hands moving in a smooth, rhythmic motion. He slowed his breathing just so he could memorize every single word.

"Excellent." Kastor laughed loudly. The sound was cruel and sharp. "Trigger the hostile takeover at exactly two in the afternoon. Dump the fake shell company stocks. The shipping union will lose their entire pension fund in ten minutes. They will be completely bankrupt before they even finish their lunch break."

Griffin felt a cold, hard knot form in his stomach.

Thousands of dock workers were about to lose their life savings. Kastor was destroying entire families just to boost his quarterly profit margins by two percent.

"No." Kastor said into the phone. He paused, waving his free hand dismissively. "Do not worry about the massage boy. He is blind. And he is practically deaf. He is a useless idiot. I could plan a murder right in front of him."

Kastor laughed again and hung up the phone.

"Are you done yet, boy?" Kastor snapped. He sat up on the massage table.

Griffin stepped back immediately. He lowered his head and nodded slowly. He picked up a clean white towel and held it out.

Kastor snatched the towel. He wiped the expensive oil off his thick neck and reached into his silk robe pocket.

"You give a decent massage." He sneered. "But you are slow. Pick this up."

He pulled out a crumpled ten dollar bill. He did not hand it to Griffin. He dropped it onto the wet tile floor.

Griffin stood perfectly still for a second. His jaw muscles tightened.

He slowly dropped to his knees. He patted the cold wet tile with his bare hands and acted like a pathetic, helpless blind man searching for a scrap of garbage.

His fingers brushed against the wet paper money. He picked it up and bowed his head again.

"Good boy." Kastor laughed. He walked out of the massage room.

Griffin stayed on his knees until the heavy oak door clicked shut.

His face went completely cold. The pathetic, helpless expression vanished instantly. His eyes were sharp and calculating beneath the milky white lenses.

He stood up and walked to the employee locker room.

The locker room was completely empty. He opened his rusty metal locker. He bypassed the cheap padlock, reached into the very back and pressed a hidden panel.

A small compartment popped open.

Griffin pulled out a sleek black smartphone. It was a heavily encrypted terminal. It was untraceable. It connected directly to the deepest servers of the global black market.

Griffin was not a poor masseur. He was the Oracle.

He was the anonymous trillion dollar information broker. He controlled a shadow network that stretched across the globe. He owned the secrets of every single billionaire who walked through the doors of the country club.

He then unlocked the terminal and typed in a very fast way

‘Target identified. CEO Kastor.

Intercept the shell company dump.

Reverse the short sell.

Liquidate all personal assets of Kastor.’

Kastor wanted to destroy the pension fund of a thousand workers at two in the afternoon.

Griffin looked at his watch. It was one fifty.

He executed the command and transferred fifty million dollars from the private offshore accounts of Kastor directly into the shipping union pension fund. Then he initiated a massive market dump on the personal holding company of the CEO.

Griffin locked the terminal and shoved it back into the hidden compartment. He grabbed his white cane from the corner of the locker and walked out of the locker room. He tapped his cane on the floor the way a blind man does it.

He headed toward the main lounge of the country club. He wanted to listen. He wanted to hear the exact moment the arrogant billionaire lost everything.

The main lounge was a massive room filled with leather chairs and the smell of expensive whiskey. Dozens of wealthy men sat in small groups. They smoked cigars and bragged about their money.

Griffin walked slowly near the edge of the room. He pretended to wipe dust off a side table.

Kastor sat in a large armchair in the center of the room. He was drinking a glass of scotch. He looked incredibly smug.

Suddenly, the phone of Kastor began to ring wildly.

Kastor smiled and picked it up. "Hale. Tell me the union is bleeding."

Griffin stopped wiping the table. He listened closely.

The voice on the other end of the phone was loud and frantic.

Kastor dropped his glass of scotch. The expensive crystal shattered into a hundred pieces on the hardwood floor.

"What do you mean my accounts are empty?" Kastor screamed at the top of his lungs. His face turned completely red. "I had two billion dollars in total assets. Where did it go?"

The entire lounge went totally silent. Every billionaire turned to look at Kastor.

"The union bought my shares?" Kastor gasped. He gripped his own hair and pulled it hard. "That is impossible. They do not have that kind of capital. Someone hacked my accounts. Someone sold my entire portfolio."

Kastor collapsed out of his leather chair. He hit his knees on the floor, directly in the spilled whiskey and broken glass.

His phone fell from his hands.

"I am ruined." Kastor whispered. He stared at his shaking hands. "I have absolutely nothing."

Griffin stood just ten feet away. He kept his face perfectly blank. He tapped his white cane on the floor and slowly walked past the broken billionaire.

Kastor had made Griffin crawl for a ten dollar bill. Now Kastor was crawling in broken glass for pennies.

The Oracle never forgave a debt.