Director Lysa Sero's approach was announced by the subtle mechanical humming of her augmented accessories. The elderly woman with white hair moved with surprising energy, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Vincent.
"Vincent, dear boy!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a slight electronic resonance.
Before Vincent could react, she reached up and ruffled his perfectly styled hair with maternal affection, then moved to kiss his cheek. Vincent smoothly stepped back, his hands gently but firmly catching her wrists.
"Director Sero, you're too kind," he said diplomatically, guiding her hands away while maintaining his composure despite the displaced strands of hair.
Her companions—both significantly younger than herself—watched with the careful attention of those accustomed to managing her more eccentric moments, one quietly producing a small comb which Vincent gratefully accepted.
"My Alexander was just like you—so dedicated, so focused on perfection," she continued, her eyes taking on a distant quality. "Even when the Qi injection experiment was clearly going wrong, when his body was already showing signs of instability, he insisted on reaching for his notepad to record the final readings. 'Science demands sacrifice, Mother,' he told me as the energy built up inside him." Her voice grew wistful. "He knew he would explode, but the data was more important than his life. That's the kind of dedication that drives true innovation."
Vincent felt a chill at her casual description of her son's death, the twisted pride in her voice revealing the depths of SeroTech's morally flexible culture.
"Director Sero, your innovations in SeroTech's Qi-Tech R&D continue to push the boundaries of what's possible. The cultivation amplifiers and spiritual suppression fields represent genuine breakthroughs."
"Oh, you flatter an old woman." Her laugh was genuinely delighted. "Though I must say, certain parties have been making legal difficulties about our research methods. Haruto's contract bloc seems to think innovation should be constrained by bureaucratic nonsense."
The complaint was delivered with the casual dismissiveness of someone who viewed legal obstacles as minor inconveniences rather than serious threats.
Director Cassiel Harmon from Sector 7's Right Party Guild approached with military precision, his two companions maintaining the disciplined bearing expected of those connected to the government-aligned enforcement sector.
"Mr. Cornelius," Harmon said, his bearing stiff but respectful. "I trust Cornelius Corporation's operations continue to maintain full compliance with all regulatory requirements."
"Director Harmon, absolutely. The Right Party Guild's surveillance and emergency response capabilities provide essential stability for all legitimate business operations."
Harmon's expression remained carefully neutral, but Vincent detected a hint of weariness. "Stability becomes increasingly challenging when certain sectors choose to escalate their disputes beyond reasonable business practices."
The comment was clearly directed at the growing Annapurna-Meridian conflict, and Vincent recognized Harmon's position as the weakest among the major corporations. The government-aligned enforcement sector was caught between maintaining order and lacking the resources to effectively control the more powerful corporate entities.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Vincent was engaged in conversation with a group of smaller sector representatives when a familiar voice cut through the ambient chatter with unmistakable arrogance.
"Well, well. Vincent Cornelius. Still playing the neutral peacemaker, I see."
Vincent turned to find William Thornfield approaching, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure in an expensive black suit. The man's sharp features were set in an expression of barely contained contempt, his dark eyes holding the kind of cold calculation that had made him feared throughout Sector 3's industrial complex.
"Director Thornfield," Vincent replied with diplomatic courtesy. "I trust Meridian's operations continue to prosper despite the recent... market uncertainties."
Thornfield's laugh was harsh and humorless. "Market uncertainties? Is that what we're calling Annapurna's aggressive expansion and predatory contract practices now?" His voice carried enough volume to draw attention from nearby conversations. "That woman is a cancer on this city's business ecosystem. Every 'innovation' she touches turns into a monopolistic power grab."
Vincent maintained his composed expression while internally celebrating. Perfect. The man's arrogance was making him reveal his true thoughts in public—exactly the kind of emotional vulnerability that could be exploited later.
"Surely both parties share responsibility for the current tensions," Vincent suggested mildly. "Perhaps a strategic withdrawal from the most contentious positions might allow for more productive negotiations."
Thornfield's eyes flashed with irritation. "Strategic withdrawal? From a woman who's been systematically undermining legitimate business practices since she inherited daddy's company?" He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more menacing tone. "You know what the real problem is, Cornelius? People like you, always suggesting compromise with those who don't deserve it. Annapurna isn't interested in fair competition—she wants to control the entire construction supply chain."
Vincent nodded thoughtfully, as if considering the point. "You may be right. Her recent supplier negotiations have been... unusually aggressive. Though I wonder if escalating the conflict further might not play into her hands." He paused, letting the suggestion settle. "Sometimes the appearance of reasonableness can be more damaging to an opponent than open warfare."
Thornfield's expression brightened slightly at what he perceived as validation of his position. "Exactly! She's been using her 'ethical business practices' reputation as a weapon while engaging in the same cutthroat tactics as everyone else. The hypocrisy is staggering."
"And yet," Vincent continued carefully, "the more aggressively you respond to her maneuvers, the more she can position herself as the victim of an unreasonable competitor. It's a clever strategy on her part—provoke overreaction, then claim the moral high ground."
The comment was perfectly calculated to increase Thornfield's paranoia about Celia's supposed manipulation while making him feel intellectually superior for recognizing the "pattern." Vincent watched with satisfaction as the man's jaw tightened with renewed anger.
"You're suggesting she's been deliberately provoking our responses?" Thornfield's voice carried a dangerous edge.
"I'm suggesting she's a skilled strategist who understands how to turn her opponents' strengths against them," Vincent replied smoothly. "Your directness and decisiveness are admirable qualities, but they could be seen as... aggressive by those who prefer more subtle approaches."
Thornfield's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "That manipulative bitch thinks she can outmaneuver me with her sob stories about ethical business practices? She's about to learn that some people don't fall for her wounded deer act."
Vincent felt a surge of satisfaction at the man's escalating anger. Each word was making Thornfield more likely to take aggressive action that would further destabilize the situation—exactly what Vincent needed to position himself as the reasonable alternative.
"Perhaps," Vincent said carefully, "the key is not to avoid confrontation entirely, but to ensure that when it comes, you're positioned as the party acting in the city's best interests rather than personal vendetta."
Thornfield's smile was predatory. "Oh, I intend to be very clear about who the real problem is in this city. Annapurna won't be hiding behind her reputation for much longer."
As Thornfield stalked away, Vincent maintained his neutral expression while internally celebrating the successful manipulation. The man's arrogance had made him reveal his intentions while simultaneously making him more likely to act rashly. Vincent had managed to appear supportive while actually pushing Thornfield toward exactly the kind of aggressive response that would benefit Vincent's long-term strategy.
This is going perfectly, Vincent thought, watching Thornfield's retreating figure. Every conversation tonight is positioning me exactly where I need to be—the reasonable alternative to the chaos surrounding everyone else. By tomorrow, half the city will see me as the stable option, and the other half will be too busy fighting each other to notice my approach.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The gentle buzz of conversation suddenly shifted, becoming more focused and expectant. Vincent turned toward the ballroom entrance, and took a deep breath after seeing the view.
Celia Annapurna had arrived.
She wore a sapphire blue gown that seemed to capture and reflect light like a living jewel, the rich fabric flowing around her figure with liquid grace. The dress featured an elegant off-shoulder design that showcased her natural poise, while the fitted bodice transitioned into a flowing skirt that moved like water with each step. Her striking red hair was arranged in a sophisticated updo that emphasized her graceful neck and the subtle strength in her shoulders.
At forty, she possessed a mature beauty that commanded attention without effort. Her blue eyes held intelligence and determination, and her presence seemed to draw the light toward her. Several conversations faltered as guests turned to observe her entrance, many gulping secretly while a few couldn't take their eyes off her mesmerizing appearance.
Vincent noted the varied reactions throughout the room—admiration, calculation, and in some cases, barely concealed desire. All except William Thornfield, whose eyes darkened with obvious hostility as he watched Celia's graceful progress through the crowd. His jaw clenched visibly, and his hands tightened around his champagne glass until his knuckles went white. The man's normally composed demeanor cracked slightly, revealing the depth of his animosity toward the woman who had become his primary rival. One of his companions placed a restraining hand on his arm, clearly recognizing the signs of his barely controlled rage.
But it was the man following behind her that truly captured Vincent's attention.
Behind Celia walked a figure with a half-vigilant, half-arrogant expression. Seeing several men's reactions to Celia's entrance, he had a smirk on his face and his eyes were like he looked down on them all. A man Vincent had been waiting to see.
And as soon as he saw him—