It was the day everything began to move.
Richard had already left the trading company early that morning. His destination was Alex's headquarters, where a critical meeting with Elden and Kael was scheduled. The discussions there were meant to shape future alliances—decisions that would ripple far beyond a single company.
Back at the Richard Trading Company, the day appeared ordinary.
Rudra sat in one of the upper halls, attending his regular lectures as usual. His posture was calm, his expression distant, as if the noise of the world barely touched him. To anyone watching, he was just another student—quiet, disciplined, unremarkable. No one could have guessed that chaos was already threading its way toward the building.
In the slums, however, the mood was far from calm.
The outlaws had finalized their plan.
They knew a direct assault would draw too much attention, so they chose deception instead. A single spark of chaos inside the company would be enough. Once panic spread, they would strike from the shadows, disguising their attack as an uprising—rich against poor, power against desperation.
Albert was chosen to light that spark.
He entered the Richard Trading Company through the front gate, his clothes simple, his manner humble. To the guards and staff, he looked like any other citizen seeking business. No one stopped him.
Inside the reception hall, the marble floors gleamed under soft light. The place smelled faintly of polished wood and dried herbs—a symbol of order, wealth, and control.
Lumi stood at the reception desk.
She noticed Albert approaching and straightened, offering a polite smile.
"Good morning, sir," she said gently. "May I help you with something?"
Albert dipped his head slightly.
"Thank you for asking. I am a physician working in the slums. I've come to purchase some medicinal herbs."
Lumi's expression softened.
"Of course, sir. We supply the finest quality medicinal herbs. Please give me the list of what you require, and I'll check our inventory."
Albert paused, as if considering carefully.
"I need calendula. It would be a great help if you have it."
"Certainly, sir," Lumi replied. "Please wait here. I'll confirm the availability."
She turned and disappeared into the inventory section.
Time passed quietly. The hall remained calm—too calm.
When Lumi returned, she was carrying two neatly packed bundles.
"Here are the herbs you requested, sir," she said, placing them carefully on the counter.
Albert leaned closer.
"May I check the quality?"
"Of course," Lumi replied without hesitation.
She handed him the packets and stepped back toward her desk to prepare the receipt for payment.
That was the moment Albert had been waiting for.
With practiced stealth, his hands moved. From within his sleeve, he produced a small vial—its contents dark and oily. He unsealed it just enough to let a few drops seep into the herbs, carefully resealing the packets before anyone could notice.
When Lumi returned with the receipt, Albert's demeanor changed instantly.
His calm mask shattered.
"What is this?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the hall.
Lumi startled.
"S-sir? Is something wrong?"
"I thought you were kind," Albert continued loudly, turning heads across the room. "You speak sweetly, you smile like a gentle soul—but deep down, you're all rotten!"
"Please, sir," Lumi said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Let me understand the issue—"
"You people think it's easy to cheat someone from the slums!" Albert roared. "You thought I wouldn't notice the spoiled herbs? You thought poverty makes us blind?"
Whispers began to spread among the staff.
"I will report this to the Royal Guards!" Albert shouted. "Let the whole city see how the Richard Trading Company robs the poor!"
Lumi stepped forward, her hands trembling.
"Sir, please calm down. There must be a misunderstanding—"
But Albert wasn't listening.
The noise carried upward.
From the stairs overlooking the main hall, a tall figure descended slowly.
Marrien—the head butler.
His presence alone silenced the room.
His sharp eyes took in the scene in seconds: Albert's rage, Lumi's pale face, the packets on the counter. His expression remained composed, but his gaze hardened.
"What is the meaning of this commotion?" Marrien asked calmly.
"Lumi, why is this man shouting at you?"
Lumi hurried to his side and explained everything in a hushed voice.
Marrien listened carefully. He needed no time to understand—deception was written all over the situation.
He stepped toward Albert.
"I apologize for any inconvenience caused by our staff," Marrien said politely. "But allow me to ask—what exactly did you order?"
Albert crossed his arms.
"Calendula."
Marrien nodded slowly.
"And may I ask why you require it?"
Albert replied quickly, "There are many fever patients in the slums. I need it for treatment."
Marrien's eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in certainty.
"I see," he said quietly.
"Then listen carefully, Sir Albert."
The hall felt heavier.
"Calendula is indeed used for treating fever," Marrien continued, "but primarily it is used for treating wounds, burns, and infections. Its effectiveness for seasonal fever is minimal."
Albert stiffened.
"You threatened to call the Royal Guards," Marrien went on calmly. "Allow me to do that instead."
Albert's breath caught.
"They will verify your claim as a physician," Marrien said. "They will ask for your guild certification. And I am quite certain… you do not possess one."
For the first time, fear flickered across Albert's face.
"You— you can't—" he stammered.
Marrien raised a hand.
"This company does not cheat the poor," he said firmly. "But it will not tolerate deceit."
Albert backed away, his plan collapsing faster than he had expected.
"This isn't over!" he shouted as he turned and fled. "You will all pay for this!"
His footsteps echoed as he disappeared through the doors.
The hall fell silent.
Lumi stood frozen, her hands clenched.
Marrien turned to her gently and said it's nothing don't worry just focus on your work meanwhile
The meeting chamber at Alex's headquarters was sealed off from the rest of the building.
Thick stone walls muted the noise of the city outside, and tall windows allowed only a thin wash of daylight to fall across the long oak table at the center of the room. The air carried the faint scent of ink and old parchment—decisions had been made here that reshaped trade routes and toppled rivals.
Alex stood near the table as Richard entered.
"Glad you could make it," Alex said, extending a hand.
Richard clasped it firmly. "I wouldn't miss this meeting."
Two other figures were already present.
One was Elden—seated, composed, his posture relaxed yet commanding. His silver-threaded coat marked him as someone who had long since stopped needing to prove his status.
Beside him stood a younger man.
Broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, and silent.
Elden rose slowly as Richard approached.
"Richard," Elden said with a faint smile. "It's been too long."
"Indeed," Richard replied. "You look well. I assume this meeting is important if you asked Alex to arrange it in such secrecy."
Elden's gaze shifted slightly.
"It is," he said. Then he turned to the man beside him. "And that is precisely why he is here."
He gestured toward the younger figure.
"Allow me to introduce Kael."
Kael stepped forward and gave a short, respectful nod.
"It's an honor to meet you, Lord Richard."
Richard studied him carefully—not just his words, but his stance, the stillness in his movements. This was not a man unused to pressure.
"And who might you be to Elden?" Richard asked.
Elden's expression hardened just enough to matter.
"Kael is someone I trust," he said. "He oversees matters that require… discretion. Where trade, territory, and conflict intersect."
Alex folded his arms, watching Richard closely.
Richard nodded slowly, understanding the unspoken meaning.
"So," Richard said, finally taking his seat, "this meeting isn't just about commerce."
Elden smiled thinly.
"No," he said. "It's about preparing for what's coming."
Kael remained silent, his eyes fixed on the table—yet every word was being measured.
Outside the chamber, the city continued as normal.
None of them knew that, at that very moment, trouble had already begun moving toward Richard's company.
Albert's Return
Albert did not stop running until his lungs burned.
He vanished into the narrow alleys of the slums, boots splashing through stagnant water, knocking aside crates and startled bystanders. By the time he reached Drex's tavern, sweat drenched his back and his earlier confidence had completely vanished.
He burst through the tavern doors.
The laughter inside died instantly.
Drex looked up from his seat, eyes narrowing as Albert staggered forward.
"You failed," Drex said flatly.
Albert swallowed hard.
"They saw through it. The head butler—he knew. He threatened to call the royal guards."
A few men cursed under their breath.
Drex leaned back, fingers drumming slowly on the table. His gaze drifted—not to Albert, but to the man seated in shadow near the wall.
The cloaked figure did not move.
After a moment, a low voice spoke.
"Then we proceed as planned."
Drex grinned.
"Good. I was getting bored."
He stood, chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"All of you," he barked. "Move. We take the company now. Fast and loud."
Steel was drawn. Cloaks pulled tight. One by one, the tavern emptied, spilling violence into the streets.