LRAB Chapter 164
Chapter 164
In his penthouse, Ethan spread Naomi's documents across his desk, his enhanced intelligence absorbing every detail. His fingers traced patterns in the financial reports that made his eyes narrow with recognition when spotting something off.
"The rot goes deeper,"
he muttered, body tensing as each file revealed darker secrets - money laundering through production budgets, talented actors being blacklisted, writers threatened into silence.
His enhanced vision caught details others would miss: smudged signatures on forced contracts, timestamps on security footage showing late-night "meetings" with terrified creatives, bank transfers that vanished into shadow accounts.
"Time to see it firsthand,"
he murmured, reaching for his phone. His fingers moved swiftly across the screen as he composed the message to Naomi.
The entertainment company received notice: the Godly Investor's personal supervisor would be conducting an inspection today.
Ethan stood before his mirror, watching his features shift subtly - a slight change in posture, a different glint in his eyes. The perfect corporate overseer persona taking shape. His fingers smoothed his tie with practiced precision.
"They'll see what I want them to see"
he thought, selecting one of his alternate identities.
"Just another suit coming to evaluate their operation" His lips curved into a slight smile as he adjusted his cufflinks.
"Let them scramble to hide their secrets while I watch"
The bracelet hummed against his wrist, eager for the coming performance, while his enhanced senses thrummed with anticipation of the hunt.
"Naomi would have handle this perfectly"
Ethan thought, watching his reflection adjust its tie. His enhanced vision caught every micro-expression as he practiced his corporate.
She'd shown her brilliance restructuring his other acquisitions, but her schedule was packed - meetings with big players of others of his company, consolidating their growing empire, building their hidden network.
"Besides,"
he murmured to his reflection, shoulders straightening imperceptibly.
"This needs my personal touch and I'm not going to leave any stone untouched. "
His fingers moved through the air with practiced grace, opening his status window. The numbers glowed in his enhanced vision, each digit carrying the weight of potential power.
[Current Assets: 150 Billion]
[Required for Next Evolution: 200 Billion]
Ethan said to himself with a determined face as he walked into the room to take a nap.
**
In the Silver family's mansion,
Old Master Silver decided to give his instruction to the shadow elite himself.
The assassin stood like a shadow given form. His black clothes seemed to absorb the light, making even his movements appear liquid and dangerous. Not a single expression crossed his perfectly controlled face.
"One week, maximum,"
he said, his voice carrying the cold precision of a blade. Each word measured, calculated.
"Anyone who could eliminate Raymond and Giovanni deserves... careful consideration."
His eyes, dark as obsidian, analyzed potential scenarios. Your next journey awaits at empire
At that moment Old Master Silver's fingers tightened on his jade-headed cane until his knuckles whitened.
"Too long,"
he growled, aged face contorting with impatience.
Noah, face still bearing marks of his ordeal - bruised cheeks, split lip, hollow eyes - suddenly lurched forward from his corner. His designer clothes hung loose on his frame, evidence of his warehouse imprisonment still visible in his gaunt appearance.
"You don't need five days,"
his voice trembled with barely contained rage, hands shaking as he gestured.
"I know his schedule, his habits." His eyes gleamed with fevered intensity, darting around the room like a cornered animal.
"I can deliver him to you tomorrow."
The assassin's head tilted slightly, a barely perceptible movement that somehow carried deadly interest. Even his slight shift in posture made the air feel colder.
Master Silver watched his son's transformation from victim to hunter with grim satisfaction, noting how trauma had stripped away his heir's pampered facade, leaving something harder, darker.
At that moment Noah's trembling fingers traced the bruises on his wrists, memories of rope burns fueling his hatred. Each touch seemed to stoke his rage higher. "Tomorrow,"
he repeated, voice dropping to a whisper that carried more menace than a shout.
"I'll hand him to you myself."