Kieran continued to eye the passable options with sharp deliberation. Each listing was born from unfortunate circumstances, but that wasn’t enough for him to decide.

Prior to doing that, Kieran had to determine the reasoning for their situation. Preying upon innocent lives crossed a salient line for Kieran. One he adamantly felt he’d never breach.

So, ascertaining the nature of the business, its value to society, and public opinion of the leadership took precedence.

Some good people simply got unlucky in life. But he didn’t wish to make their struggle all the more unbearable.

Wouldn’t he merely be turning into that which he loathed? Charles had once exercised that exact behavior. Preying upon their crippling weaknesses like a deranged vulture.

Not all of the choices were good people, though.

Kieran focused on one listing in particular.

The land was good—sturdy and in a reasonably remote location, removed from heavy traffic but still capable of connecting with the outside. Perhaps, it was more along the lines of excellent in his amateurish option.

He was no land expert, after all.

It was definitely a decision he should have sought a more tailored eye for. Erudite people were available for hire, but that was an expense Kieran found superfluous.

First endeavors invited failure or ineptitude. It was a natural order, a standard, quotidian learning process that Kieran didn’t want to deprive himself of. .

The thought now set aside, he delved into the forms, perusing the document with a keen fixated eye. Kieran’s lip turned up in disgust as he read, and his expression became blatantly obvious.

He disliked the former management desperately clinging onto their property.

They had been heavily accused of wrongful misdeeds. The more heinous of the bunch was up for debate whether it was a willful human rights violation or inept managerial malpractice.

Kieran doubted someone at the level of a Chief Executive Officer remained unaware of the conduct of their business, not unless they were a brainless fool.

Morals were scant these days, and Kieran understood that. Therefore, he paid close attention to the names attached to these lands.

‘This was owned by an Affluent Family, and the verdict is still pending. It should have been closed long ago, but they’re probably relying upon fostered relationships with the authorities to secretly wrestle back control.’

Quietly, Kieran’s opinion and decision shifted, becoming more evident and concrete with each passing second.

“Girls, what do you think about this one?”

Kieran duplicated the documents with a gesture and sent both copies to Lillian and Stella. Whereas Kieran perused carefully, they skimmed, only paying attention to the pages Kieran provided first.

They seemed of the gravest importance.

Lillian was the first to speak.

“I believe I’ve heard of these people—the Villanueva Family. If I’m not mistaken, they abuse the fringe rights of their industry, dabbling with the Underworld in inconclusive ways. As long they continue to provide the funds, their relationship would never be ousted.”

Stella scowled, hate bubbling behind her eyes. She had once overheard her parents being approached by those shady characters. Luckily, they had the morality to decline their offer.

Not without retaliation of course. But her family’s influence was sufficient enough to request aid.

“I’ve heard about those vile people. Seems like they fell unto hard times after continually operating at a loss. Or maybe after being a victim of one too many scandals?”

The venal higher-ups regularly partook in actionable, criminal deeds thanks to the management’s lax rules of conduct, pitiful enforcement policies, and nonexistent punishments.

Kieran smiled, one that dripped with mockery and demented satisfaction.

“One of those scandals… and perhaps the most important, is robbing their already struggling employees and holding their jobs over their heads at every chance. I will undoubtedly enjoy assuming ownership of their facility.”

After a brief pause and a moment to wipe away all the images, Kieran continued.

“We will begin the process now, formally notifying them of our intent to make an official offer. Ignore it if they voice any dissent and attempt to dissuade us from offering. The information obtained through the public domain shows that it is currently a government-owned entity. It’s all free game.”

Lillian monitored Kieran’s expression, a satisfied giggle escaping her plush lips.

“Of course you’d approach them like that. You know they won’t take too kindly to us doing this? We’ll be making an enemy out of them.”

“Enemies are unavoidable. It’s up to us, however, to control what echelon of people we offend. I believe we’ll be just fine, all things considered.”

Stella squinted, taking a moment to analyze him. Eventually, she sighed in defeat.

“I can’t tell whether you’re jinxing us or you’re just that confident. But I’ll trust you. Your judgment has yet to steer us wrong. And even if it might… I trust your ability to hoist us from the mud.”

“Kind words.”

Kieran laughed, but then in that moment of laughter, he thought back to the young boy Altair had pointed out.

‘I want to visit him. I want to visit that place. Home…’

Though he had been away from Zenith Online for several days, Kieran didn’t feel a gnawing urge to immediately return to it. Even with the upcoming major event for him and the other Mythics looming.

Deep down, a piece of him relished this temporary peace. He enjoyed the sanctity of an environment free from chaos. When he stepped back into Zenith Online, the duties, responsibilities, and burdens would assault him like an unrelenting, world-ending tidal wave.

Scar had suggested he relax, but Kieran couldn’t relax while online, ever. There was always some task to get done, some relation to form, and some conflict—whether direct or indirect—to resolve.

Such came with the ambition to rule, to obtain sovereignty.

Minutes later, Kieran rose with a stagger, his muscles still too sore to bear sudden movement.

Eager, concerned, and curious, Lillian helped with an expression of faint irritation.

“And where do you call yourself going, mister? I believe I told you that you needed rest.”

Kieran grimaced, but his eyes remained steadfast and infallible, fighting back Lillian’s concern.

“You did tell me so, but I can’t rest like this. I need a proper shower.”

Without awaiting an answer, Kieran approached the spacious bathroom, its design telling the story of luxury and opulence. Underneath the chrome showerhead, where a temperate cascade of water fell, Kieran thought.

Silent and aimless.

The voice in his mind was quiet, the pattering of the water the only sound to be heard.

…

Hours later, Altair and Allan returned. Their appearance haggard and unkempt, more Allan than Altair.

A brief retelling of their experience had everyone on the edge of their seats, including the now-awake Bastion and Nemean.

The ordeal went quite like Kieran expected.

As new faces, their validity was tested alongside their morality. In the middle of the lobby, a violent brawl had ensued until blood painted the stylized maroon carpet a ravishing crimson.

Allan swung his fists comically, attempting to display false bravado during Altair’s recount, but they dismissed him. This was the same guy that hyperventilated during Daedric’s rampage.

Kieran spoke up after Altair concluded his story with his usual pacified indifference. It made it hard to declare any of his words as a mistruth. Like he didn’t care enough to tell a lie or manipulate the truth.

“So, the gist of it is they evaluated Allan to be the weak link, targeted him, evident by the bruising on his back… and you took it from there.”

“Hey! Wait a minute, you’re painting me in a vulnerable light. I’m not that helpless!”

To this, Bastion guffawed, his rambunctious laughter shaking the room.

“Oh yeah? Show us your back one more ‘gain? That’s the battle wound of a valiant fighter, alright!”

Allan’s cheeks grew florid, redness stretching down to his neck as he held his breath in utter embarrassment. Still, he lifted his shirt and paraded his black and blues to fuel his argument.

“I suffered for you all! That should earn me some points here. Not mockery points but uh, you know… gracious points?”

The others believed his words just as much as Allan did… barely.

Kieran looked to Altair in search of an answer.

“How many times was he slammed?”

Altair looked up, his eyes moving erratically as if searching for the memory. Located, he answered.

“Once. Mm… could be twice. No more than three times. I mean, he did his job as a ragdoll. A splendid job.”

That… wasn’t a job one should proudly excel at. And Allan felt it. His cheeks burned while laughter erupted in the room in greater fervor.

The laughter was cut short, though. Kieran made sure of it.

“Alright, enough of the games. Is it done?”

Altair nodded, but Allan spoke up first.

“It’s done, but not completely. As you estimated, the account won’t be finalized until you make a personal appearance. Caelum Lenders know of you, but they don’t know you. They want to put a presence to the name. And… they used slippery double-speak and convoluted language. They’re super careful. Oh! I’m also of the impression they might kill us.”

Considering their long-lasting history, Kieran wouldn’t acknowledge them if they were anything but skillfully cunning. Masters of word manipulation.

However, they were the perfect agency to use to purchase that property. With the account number secured, Kieran skillfully wove the presence of Caelum Lenders into the offer.