Then... Who is Daniel Emberweave really? Just a CEO and founder of a simple tech company. Why does he have a target rank of at least S Rank? Is he a superhuman? A robot from the future? Or even an alien who migrated to Earth after his home planet exploded?
Absurd theories swirled in the minds of those in the room, each one more outlandish than the last. Yet, none of them dared to voice their speculations, knowing the impossibility of such notions. They exchanged knowing glances, silently acknowledging the puzzling nature of Daniel Emberweave.
"Sir, is there anything else you require from our service?" the operator asked politely, displaying no signs of impatience despite Leclerc having made her wait on the phone for a few minutes, wasting her time.
"Ask her to send us his information. I've heard that one can purchase target information from the Syndicate Union if they pay enough," Prescott instructed his lackey.
"Yes, um... We would like to buy his information. How much do we need to pay?" Leclerc cautiously inquired.
"The information on Mr. Daniel Emberweave has two rates. The complete information is priced at 100 million US dollars, or 10 million dollars with at least an A Rank membership. The partial information is priced at 1 million dollars," the operator stated.
"Why is it so expensive!?" the obese man couldn't help but shout back at the operator, finding the price absurd.
"Mr. Leclerc, according to Clause 2 of Rule Number 3 in the Syndicate Union regulations, which pertains to maintaining the confidentiality of content between the Union and the client, it is the client's responsibility not to disclose any conversation or contract with the Union to third parties. We regret to inform you that your membership with the Syndicate Union has been revoked as of this moment. Have a nice day," the operator declared, abruptly ending the conversation before cutting the line.
"Wait! Wait!" Leclerc frantically attempted to reconnect, but the number he dialed was canceled and no longer available, as if the contact he had just spoken to never existed.
Leclerc couldn't help but glare at Prescott, the one responsible for his revoked membership.
"Leclerc... Now you dare look at me with those eyes?" Prescott's voice turned cold, causing Leclerc to regain his senses and retreat into his cowardly shell.
"No!... I... I didn't dare. I... I didn't," Leclerc stammered fearfully, his unwillingness palpable. But there was nothing he could do. His wealth, power, and influence paled in comparison to Prescott's. He couldn't even act out or show his anger or unwillingness and can only grit his teeth and endure.
Prescott snorted dismissively and turned his attention to the others, showing no concern for any apology or compensation towards Leclerc for causing his loss of Syndicate Union membership. In his view, the organization was merely a loosely organized gang that exaggerated their importance to inflate their service prices.
"I don't give a damn about the details. Just get some thugs or hire gangs to handle this Daniel Emberweave and his damn company! Make it clear that I want his technology and I want the whole country to hate his company!" Prescott barked out his command, his voice filled with anger.
Prescott's words hung in the air. The room fell silent as his command settled over the gathered businessmen. Aryan, despite not being an heir and lacking significant influence within his family, understood the weight of his intelligence and skills. They were indispensable to the group, even if they disliked him for his origins and background.
Aryan met Prescott's gaze, undeterred by the disdain in his eyes. He had grown accustomed to the dismissive attitudes, knowing that his capabilities were what truly mattered in the business world.
"Mr. Sharma," Prescott grumbled, begrudgingly acknowledging Aryan's presence. "What do you make of this situation? Can we really stop this Emberweave and his company?"
Aryan maintained his composure, not allowing Prescott's animosity to affect him. He knew that his insight and strategic thinking were vital to navigating the challenges posed by Daniel Emberweave and Astral Tech.
"Mr. Prescott," Aryan responded, his tone firm and composed. "While I understand your concerns, I believe we must approach this situation with a calculated strategy. Direct confrontation would only enhance Emberweave's public sympathy. We need to exploit their weaknesses, targeting their vulnerabilities and slowly undermining their position."
Prescott's frown deepened as he listened to Aryan's measured words. Despite his personal dislike for the young man, he recognized the value of his intellect and foresight.
"Explain," Prescott grudgingly urged, realizing that Aryan's insights might be crucial for their success.ραпdαs `n?ν?| сom
Aryan continued, his voice tinged with determination. "We should focus on infiltrating their supply chain, disrupting their key partnerships, and sowing doubt about their credibility. By chipping away at their foundations discreetly, we can weaken their position without drawing unnecessary attention. It will require meticulous planning and execution, but it is a strategy that can yield results."
Prescott's expression softened slightly, acknowledging the validity of Aryan's suggestions. He understood that Aryan's approach aligned with their shared desire to see Astral Tech falter.
?α?dαsηθνε| "I see your point, Sharma," Prescott conceded, begrudgingly giving credit where it was due. "Formulate a team, devise a comprehensive plan, and ensure that Astral Tech pays for challenging us. Your abilities will be put to the test, and success will be rewarded."
Aryan nodded, accepting the responsibility placed upon him. He was aware that his position in the family hierarchy and his lack of influence were disadvantages, but his intelligence and strategic acumen made him an indispensable asset.
"Understood, Mr. Prescott," Aryan replied with resolve, his eyes shining with determination. "I will assemble a team and develop a meticulous plan to ensure that Astral Tech regrets crossing our path."
With that, Aryan pivoted and strode purposefully away, his mind abuzz with a flurry of ideas and strategies. He understood the enormity of the task at hand. This undertaking would not be easy; it would require gathering extensive intelligence on Daniel Emberweave and his company before taking any action. Aryan recognized that his words to Prescott held little weight if he lacked the knowledge necessary to execute their plan effectively.
— Astral Tech Corporation - Evening —
The lobby of Astral Tech Corporation buzzed with activity as the evening sun cast a warm glow through the expansive glass windows. Office workers, briefcases in hand, streamed through the doors, their faces reflecting a mix of weariness and anticipation for the end of the workday. The hum of conversation filled the air as colleagues exchanged casual goodbyes and made plans for the evening ahead. In this bustling atmosphere, the logo of Astral Tech, shimmering with technological prowess, stood proudly at the entrance, a symbol of innovation and progress.
At the information counter in the lobby, a middle-aged man with black and gray hair at his temples walked in from the outside. He wore a priest's cassock with a long black coat. His right arm was missing, leaving only his left arm intact. This man was none other than Christopher Ward, the Grand Paladin of the Vatican Secret Exterminator Unit.
Approaching the counter, Christopher flashed a warm smile at the young lady attending to the visitors.
"Excuse me, young lady," the priest said, his voice gentle and kind. "I have a few inquiries, if you don't mind."
The receptionist, taken aback by the presence of the priest, returned his smile and replied, "Of course, Father. How may I assist you?"
Christopher leaned slightly on the counter and began to ask his questions, his demeanor calm and unassuming. He placed a black name card on the counter and politely inquired, "My name is Christopher Ward. I have an appointment with Mr. Emberweave. Could you please inform him for me?"
The receptionist glanced at the name card and realized that it was a special card given only to a select few by Daniel himself. It was a sign that this unassuming priest had a personal connection with her boss.
"Certainly, Father. Please wait a moment," the receptionist responded with a smile. Her attitude toward the priest shifted, now filled with increased respect after recognizing the significance of the name card.
The receptionist picked up the phone on her counter and dialed Daniel's office. They exchanged a brief conversation before she hung up and turned toward Christopher.
"Father, Mr. Emberweave has granted you permission to meet him. His office is on the top floor. Have a pleasant evening," the receptionist informed with a warm smile as she handed back the name card to Christopher.
Christopher nodded appreciatively, took the name card back and made his way to the elevator. He stepped inside and pressed the button for the highest floor, eager to meet with Daniel in his office.
Inside Daniel's office, the atmosphere resembled more of a mini-workshop than a typical CEO's workspace. Various prototypes, equipment, and peculiar machines were scattered about in a haphazard manner, some unfinished and awaiting completion. However, what caught Christopher's attention the most were the assortment of metallic prosthetic arms displayed on stands.
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