Night in Emerald City was painted in strokes of desire and sin—a canvas of danger that lured every wandering soul. Neon lights hissed like warnings, casting their glare on the rot beneath the city's glitter. And at the center of it all stood Pang Chengze—a figure drawn in boldest ink, magnetic as a riddle, yet forbidding as a blade.
At the window of Nova Capital, he turned an ancient Orlando silver coin between his fingers. Time had scarred it, etching secrets into its surface. Cold metal pressed against warm skin, a reminder of all he had lost. To him, it was more than a relic—it was a promise, a seed of vengeance, the only anchor in his midnight dreams.
In the Stellar Federation, his name meant wealth, power, mystery. He was a legend whispered in boardrooms, a comet that had risen from nowhere, blazing across the financial world. Ruthless in method, precise in judgment, sharp in vision—everything seemed to fall within his grasp.
Yet beneath the brilliance lay ruin. His soul, hollowed by hate, lived for one purpose: revenge.
He had watched his father—a principled banker in the Orlando Republic—slaughtered for defying corrupt warlords. Ten years old, he had seen integrity punished with blood, and in that moment, the world he knew collapsed. The boy died that night; in his place, vengeance was born.
He erased his past, fled across the stars, and built an empire out of greed itself. Markets bent to his will, men and women alike became pawns. Wealth was only his weapon. People were expendable. Even Yu Kexin, his loyal aide, sharp as a knife and fierce as fire, was bound to him not by trust, but by transaction.
"The darkest night is not the night itself—it is greed without end."
His plan was a machine, every gear aligned. Wealth, power, information—he had it all. And the shadows of his enemies were finally coming into focus. Soon, their ruin would be complete.
"This world is already broken—lawyers with clowns, politicians in chains to corporations. Kindness sold to sin. Tell me—what can you do against me?"
But fate is never predictable. A woman appeared, and with her, the first crack in his design.
An Qi.
Mysterious. Beautiful. A star burning in the blackest night. She entered his world like light through fractured glass, stirring in him a fear he could not name, a warmth he thought long dead. She was a riddle that pulled him closer, even as danger whispered from every shadow she carried.
And in her, he recognized the same despair that cloaked him.
"Good and evil are not opposites. They are the last fragile line within every soul. And no one escapes the trial."
Once more, Pang Chengze looked down on the city of lights. To others, it was a sea of stars. To him, it was darkness without end. His gaze devoured it all—endless, consuming, unlit by hope.
The game had begun. A dangerous game of desire and ruin. And this time, the greatest enemy he faced was not hidden in the shadows.
It was within himself.