The violin screeching over the speakers wasn't just a sound; it was a physical weight.
As the Blue Danube played in a twisted, slow minor key, the air in the Grand Pavilion turned heavy. The candles flickered and burned green. The water in the fountains turned into thick, black sludge.
Rajah slammed his hands on the High Table.
"Guards! Secure the perimeter!"
Nothing happened.
The Tiger Guards at the gates didn't move. They were frozen, their feet encased in black crystal that had erupted from the ground silently.
"They can't hear you, General," a smooth voice purred.
The spotlight on the stage shifted. It landed not on the band, but on a man standing in the center of the dance floor.
The Boss.
He wasn't wearing a mask. He was wearing a pristine charcoal tuxedo that fit perfectly among the noble guests. He held a glass of champagne in one hand and a cane made of black Void crystal in the other.
