The anonymous man spoke again, "I haven't been paid my salary for the last two months before I was suddenly fired." "I worked hard for the Xanta family, but when I started questioning some of Mr. Hammo's decisions, I was fired without a clear reason, and why wasn't my salary paid?" The audience in the studio and at home were stunned. Hammo, who had been listening carefully to every word, now looked increasingly anxious. Antony continued in a more serious tone, "That is truly shocking. Mr. Hammo, do you have an explanation for these accusations?" Hammo, despite trying to maintain his composure, finally responded. "What this anonymous guest is saying is a one-sided perspective. I have always strived to be fair to all my employees, including when it comes to salary payments." "If anyone feels wronged, we are always ready to resolve the issue in a fair and professional manner." However, the atmosphere in the studio was growing more tense. The audience started talking among
Shhh! Ssshh! Ssshh! (The sound of laser fire) In the vast and silent shooting range, the only sounds were the faint hum of weapons and the sharp blasts of laser shots. Zander Rhett Guezz—a 27-year-old man with a reputation as a feared war commander—stood tall in the middle of the range. His muscular frame, clad in a black uniform devoid of rank insignias, radiated an undeniable cold aura. He raised his laser pistol, aiming with precise accuracy. A red beam shot out, piercing the target dead center. Without flinching, he pulled the trigger again, this time unleashing three rapid shots, all landing squarely on the bullseye. Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps approached from behind. A middle-aged man with a worried expression hurried toward him. It was Jacky, the former bodyguard of the Guezz family, now reinstated to serve Zander after his return from the military. “I am really sorry, Young Master… I’m two minutes late,” Jacky said, his voice cautious, almost a whis
At the Xanta Family Mansion, Venua City…. The house resembled a palace, grand and majestic, adorned with crystal chandeliers radiating luxurious brilliance from every corner. That evening, the house was filled with formally dressed guests crowding the main hall, which was embellished with a red carpet and golden ornaments. The clinking of glasses and soft laughter filled the air, marking the celebration of a major achievement by the Xanta family’s eldest grandson—Darren Xanta. Darren stood in the center of the hall, clad in a perfectly tailored black suit that emphasized his aura as the family heir. His confident smile shone as he graciously received congratulations from the guests. "Congratulations, Darren! Securing the contract with V-Tech is an extraordinary achievement," said an elderly man—Mr. Birru, a renowned jewelry tycoon in Venua. "Thank you," Darren replied politely, a slight nod of his head reflecting the composure of a man who knew he had reached the pinnacle.
"Who is he? How dare he come dressed like that?" whispered one guest. "Does he think this is a night market? Look, even the servers here are dressed better than him," scoffed another guest. Zander remained unfazed. He strode toward a sofa in the corner of the hall, sat down casually, and grabbed a glass of wine from a nearby table. With a swift motion, he propped one leg up on the table, exuding the demeanor of a boss. Across the room, Ganza Xanta-the Xanta family’s second grandson, spotted Zander. His face instantly darkened. His jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed sharply. "What the hell is this?!" Ganza hissed furiously. Without hesitation, Ganza stormed toward Zander, his steps brimming with rage as though he were about to erupt. Once he reached Zander, he stood directly in front of him, his anger palpable. "Zander Guezz," Ganza’s voice was cold and filled with venom. "It’s been a long time, but you still have the audacity to show up here? Are you challenging the X
The luxurious black SUV glided smoothly down the road leading to Zander’s main mansion, situated on the outskirts of the city. The mansion was surrounded by the sprawling grounds of the Rhett Military Academy, a training facility renowned not only for its stringent discipline but also for producing the finest soldiers. This academy was Zander’s private enterprise, a strategic investment designed to secure loyalty and military strength firmly under his control. In the backseat, Zander sat silently, his cold gaze piercing through the tinted window. Outside, hundreds of soldiers were rigorously training—engaging in shooting drills, hand-to-hand combat, and war simulations. Every activity was conducted under the watchful eyes of stern instructors. As the SUV approached the academy's main gate, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. A tall, broad-shouldered commander in full green uniform stood near the guard post. Spotting the approaching vehicle, he barked a sharp order t
In the grand kitchen of Zander's mansion... The aroma of cooking wafted through the air, mingling with the clinking of pans and the hushed murmurs of conversation. In a quiet corner of the room, Leo, the new servant, stood awkwardly watching an older man with a stern face—Marcus—who was overseeing the kitchen with a sharp, discerning gaze. Leo glanced left and right, ensuring no one was too close to overhear. He swallowed hard, summoning his courage, and approached Marcus, who was meticulously chopping vegetables with the precision of an artist. “Mr. Marcus...” Leo’s voice was barely audible above the kitchen’s clamor. Marcus didn’t look up, only slightly raising an eyebrow. “What is it?” Leo hesitated for a moment, but the curiosity that had been gnawing at him refused to be silenced. “I heard... there was once a great war between the Guezz family and the Xanta family. Is that true?” Marcus’s hand froze mid-chop. The knife he had been using was slowly placed down on the
Darren exhaled deeply, trying to remain calm. He knew his father was nearly impossible to reason with when angry. “Dad…” Darren began, his voice firm but respectful. “I can’t speak directly to Mr. Death. In fact, I’ve never even met him.” Mr. Hammo narrowed his eyes, displeased with the answer. “What do you mean? You’re my eldest son! You’re responsible for this family’s safety!” “Mr. Death isn’t someone who can be contacted carelessly,” Darren replied. “Our partnership with V-Tech happened through his mediation, but Mr. Dom was the one who handled everything.” Mr. Hammo frowned, confusion and anger battling on his face. “So, what are you saying? That we should beg Dom for help now?” “That’s the issue,” Darren continued. “Asking for help through Mr. Dom could strain the business relationship we’ve built. If we appear desperate or reckless, he might pull out. You know how crucial our relationship with Dom is for the family’s business, Dad.” Mr. Hammo stepped closer, his eye
In the Morning, at the Golf Course... The expansive golf course stretched under the warm morning sun. The neatly trimmed green grass and the soft breeze carried the fresh scent of earth. Zander stood confidently, dressed in a sleek black polo shirt and crisp white pants. In his hands was an expensive-looking golf club. Beside him, Jacky stood casually, wearing a baseball cap. Zander took his position, his sharp eyes fixed on the golf ball resting on the tee. With a precise swing, his club struck the ball, sending it flying far into the distance and landing perfectly in the hole. “Nice shot, Young Master!" Jacky exclaimed in admiration. Zander offered a faint smile. “Golf is like warfare strategy. It’s not about power—it’s about precision.” Jacky nodded with a grin. “No wonder you always win.” Zander prepared another ball. But before he could take his swing, a faint buzzing sound filled the air. A small black drone emerged from behind the trees, flying low over