The city had barely healed from the war of the Alliance of Steel when Victor Draemont struck again. The magnates who survived bowed their heads, but Victor was not satisfied with obedience. He wanted control, absolute and permanent. And so, he turned his eyes toward the banks, the veins through which every fortune flowed.
At dawn, three of the largest banks woke to frozen accounts and redirected assets. Transactions vanished into black holes, records burned away by Draemont's unseen hand. Executives panicked, scrambling to understand how their lifeblood had disappeared overnight.
Victor watched from his glass tower, calm as ever, sipping wine. "Money is not theirs," he murmured. "It is Lucius's. I am merely correcting the illusion."
Silvio Marcellus appeared behind him, his voice sharp. "You are sewing panic with precision. They will claw at each other like starving wolves. But the real feast will come when they realize the Devil himself is feeding on them."
In the estate, Adrian Crowe already prepared his legal snares. "When the bankers beg for help, I will meet them in court," he said, his smile thin and cruel. "Every plea will become a rope around their necks. Every contract will bind them to Lucius forever."
Darius sharpened his blades as he listened. "And if any of them believe they can resist with force, then let me finish what I started. Fear in the streets will always remind them that wealth cannot shield them from steel."
Cain Mortalis stood silently by the doorway, his axe glinting. He did not need words. His presence alone was enough to remind the council that when numbers failed, brutality prevailed.
Ravenna's laughter echoed through the chamber as she twirled her knives. "Let them lock themselves in their towers. I will slit their throats in their sleep if they even whisper of betrayal."
Lucius listened to them all, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. "Victor, this is your stage. But remember, gold is not simply to be taken. It is to be broken, reshaped, and reforged into chains. Chains that bind every man, woman, and government to me."
Victor bowed his head slightly. "As you command, my lord."
Within a week, banks began to collapse under his quiet assault. Entire credit systems folded into his hands, forcing corporations and even politicians to crawl to Victor for salvation. Each time they did, they found his contracts laced with invisible claws.
Silvio whispered rumors into the markets, ensuring panic spread where Victor wanted it most. When stocks plummeted, Draemont's agents bought them in silence, turning rival wealth into Lucius's holdings.
Adrian destroyed anyone who dared sue or protest. His cases left opponents broken, their reputations shattered, their lives in ruin. No one who challenged Lucius in court ever walked away whole.
In the streets, Darius and Cain ensured resistance was met with fear. Bankers who considered funding rebellions were found dangling from bridges, their corpses swaying as warnings. Others vanished, their screams never heard again.
Ravenna prowled like a phantom, silencing informants before they could spread word of Victor's schemes. Each death was a gift to Lucius, and each scream a reminder of who owned the night.
Victor's shadow grew longer with every passing day. Soon, even foreign investors felt the tug of his strings. Their emissaries arrived in the city, cloaked in wealth and arrogance, believing they could bargain with Draemont.
Victor greeted them with the same cold smile. "You are guests in my city," he said softly. "And guests should know their place."
The emissaries scoffed, believing their fortunes untouchable. But Victor already had their accounts mapped, their businesses infiltrated, their secrets exposed.
When one foreign banker threatened to withdraw billions, he awoke to find his vaults emptied overnight, his ships seized, his allies gone. He fled the city the next morning, broken and afraid.
Another emissary tried bribery, offering Victor gold in exchange for peace. Victor accepted the bribe with a smile, then used it to buy out the emissary's companies, leaving him penniless and humiliated.
The council watched as Victor wove wealth into chains, and even Darius, the Butcher of Shadows, could not help but admire his cruelty. "You kill slower than I do," Darius said, "but your blade cuts deeper."
Lucius stood before his council, his voice low and commanding. "This is the power of the Tycoon's Shadow. Wealth, blood, law, and fear. Together, they are mine. And soon the world will understand that no throne is safe when the Devil walks among them."
The council bowed, their loyalty burning brighter with every victory. Yet outside, whispers spread again. The foreign powers were not finished. They had tasted Victor's cruelty, but instead of retreating, they began preparing for war on a scale the city had never seen.
And as night fell, Lucius's smile widened. For he had already foreseen it.