Charles finally stopped. He leaned back in his chair, then stared at Joseph intently with a haughty smile. “If you really want to continue with that project, then you’ll have to work with us. We—the ones in this global elite network—will take a share of the profits. Fifty percent for us, and fifty percent for you.” Joseph listened calmly, his expression remaining neutral, showing not the slightest hint of an emotional reaction. “And if you’re thinking about refusing,” Charles continued, narrowing his eyes, “then I’m ready to go to war with you until one of us is dead—just as you want.” “You may have won many battles against powerful noble families in various countries. But the global elite… We’re different. We are a force that you cannot simply defeat!" Charles sneered, reinforcing his point. A few men around him nodded in agreement, as if Charles’s words were an undeniable truth. Charles then leaned forward, his face only inches from Joseph’s. “You should know who your op
12 hours ago, in Aussa, Elite X Residence. In the backyard of the elite residence, the air was calm and filled with the sweet scent of lavender. A graceful woman with an unreadable expression served a cup of tea to her guest, none other than her former father-in-law, Mr. Thalib. The sky was clear, and birds chirped in the nearby trees, creating a peaceful harmony in the midst of this strange meeting. "So... what brings Daddy to come here?" Jennifer asked with a calm yet slightly curious tone. Mr. Thalib rarely visited, especially without a clear reason. Mr. Thalib nodded slightly, touching the peach tea that had just been served. He sipped it slowly, as if gathering the words he was about to say. His face was calm but filled with firmness. "I came to protect my grandson," Mr. Thalib said in a low, meaningful voice. He carefully set the cup back down, his gaze unwavering from Jennifer. Jennifer raised her eyebrows slightly. She didn't show much surprise, but it was clear
In a luxurious conference room, its ceiling adorned with glittering crystal chandeliers, a long table was surrounded by figures well-known in the world of global power. They were the elites who held control over politics, economics, and military forces worldwide. At the center of the table stood a man in a sleek black suit, his face serious and full of authority—Charles, the leader of this meeting. The attendees listened intently to every word that left his lips. “What’s the plan you’re proposing, Charles?” asked Miranda, one of the most powerful members at the table, crossing her arms and looking directly at him. Charles stepped closer to the large strategy board displaying a map of the conflict zone. He pointed to several red markers indicating the positions of Joseph’s forces. “We’ll deploy more hidden snipers. Our main target is Joseph. I want him dead by tomorrow.” “How many snipers are you talking about?” asked an old man at the end of the table, Robert, his eyebrows fur
In a luxurious hotel with dim lights reflecting off the marble floors, the atmosphere in the conference room was tense. Hundreds of members of the G Alliance gathered, standing tall in their black uniforms. Among them, Joseph sat in the main chair, his eyes fixed on an electronic map projecting the Obamo military field onto a large screen in front of him. Jacky, clutching a folder anxiously, stood beside Joseph. His face looked tense, and with a low but clear voice, he began reporting the situation. “They have confirmed the location of tomorrow’s war,” Jacky said, pointing at the map on the screen. “6 a.m., at Obamo military field.” Jacky, still standing next to him, redirected Joseph’s attention back to the room. “Boss, this is what worries us,” he said, his voice sounding more anxious. “The latest intel indicates they will deploy a thousand mercenaries. Meanwhile, we only have three hundred troops here. If we request reinforcements from the eastern region, they won’t arrive in
At 5:30 in the morning, the atmosphere in the private room was tense. m At a long table, Charles sat in the middle, flanked by Miranda on his left, and six other men, senior members of the global elite group. When a guard entered with quick steps, all heads turned toward him. “Mr. Charles, Miss Miranda,” the guard spoke respectfully. “Joseph and his troops have arrived at the Obamo military field. They only brought about three hundred soldiers, but they seem very ready and eager for war.” Charles nodded slowly, not responding immediately. He stared straight ahead, his expression blank as if processing the information. On the other hand, Miranda looked slightly anxious. She glanced at Charles with a worried look, nervously fidgeting with her pale fingers. “What should we do, Charles?” Miranda asked, her voice breaking the silence in the room. “We aren’t going to proceed with this war, right? Madam Boss has already ordered it to be canceled. There are no snipers, no mercenaries
Charles and Miranda ran toward Jennifer and Joseph, their faces filled with worry and uncertainty. The woman known as Madam Boss looked at Joseph with a calm, blank expression, mirrored by Joseph’s own cold gaze. In that moment, there was a powerful silence between them, an unspoken tension that only they seemed to understand. Charles, nervous and struggling to find the right words, stepped forward first. “Madam Boss, this is Joseph,” he said, gesturing to the young man standing opposite them. “He is the leader of the forces that were originally planning to wage war against us. But after receiving your order, we have cancel all preparations.” Charles hesitated, wanting to elaborate, “We—” But Jennifer, the woman they referred to as Madam Boss, cut him off. Her eyes remained fixed on Joseph, not even glancing at Charles. “There’s no need to explain, Charles,” she said coolly. “I’ve already looked into everything myself.” Charles felt a cold sweat run down the side of his face
Charles, Miranda, and six men from the global elite alliance stared at Joseph in disbelief. They had just heard the punishment Joseph demanded: kneeling, licking his shoes, and barking like dogs. This wasn’t just an insult; it was the complete destruction of their dignity in front of their Madam Boss! “Madam Boss, you’re not serious, are you?” Charles asked with a trembling voice, trying to maintain composure despite the cold sweat trickling down his forehead. Jennifer remained standing tall, her expression emotionless. She gave a short nod, signaling her agreement with Joseph’s decision. “Just do it,” she said softly, her words as sharp as a blade. Charles clenched his fists, his anger and humiliation evident. But he knew better than to defy Madam Boss’s orders. Reluctantly, he was the first to kneel, followed by Miranda and the six others. Joseph turned casually, waving a hand toward Jacky, his assistant. “Record everything. I want this documented properly,” he said, his t
Joseph glanced at Charles, Miranda, and the other men standing nearby, then turned his gaze back to Jennifer. "One last thing," he said flatly but firmly. Jennifer raised an eyebrow. "What is it?" Joseph crossed his arms over his chest and spoke loud enough for everyone around to hear. "I want Charles, Miranda, and the six other members of the global elite to hold a press conference. In front of the world, you must declare that I am not guilty of Ciko’s murder. Say it clearly: you were the ones at fault. Explain how you orchestrated his death." Gasps could be heard from some of those present. Charles, standing slightly behind Jennifer, stepped forward with a furious expression. "You can’t be serious, right?" Charles asked, pointing at Joseph. "That request is a joke. Do you understand the consequences?" Joseph stared at Charles coldly. "I’m very serious." Charles let out a short, humorless laugh. "If we do that, the entire power structure of the Eastern global elite will