The line stayed silent for a brief moment after PK spoke.
"Let's meet," the old man said calmly.
PK glanced at the clock on the classroom wall and replied without hesitation,
"I have classes. Let's meet on the weekend."
There was no irritation. No arrogance. No pressure.
"…Alright," the old man answered immediately, as if PK's words were only natural.
The call ended.
Far away, in a quiet private lounge overlooking the heart of DY City, the old man slowly lowered his phone.
Beside him stood a young woman—tall, graceful, and strikingly beautiful. Her fox-like eyes were sharp and intelligent, her presence confident and proud. Her beauty easily rivaled Lana and Luna, but where the twins carried warmth, this girl radiated a cold elegance.
She frowned slightly.
"Grandpa," she said, displeased, "how can you let him decide when to meet you? He doesn't even know who you are. He clearly isn't taking you seriously."
The old man chuckled softly.
"Calm down, child," he said, his voice gentle but carrying an authority that couldn't be ignored.
"He doesn't know who I am. He's young. That's all."
The old man was Silas Blackwell.
A name that, in the upper circles of the world, carried terrifying weight.
The Blackwell family ruled DY City from the shadows—finance, industries, logistics, military contracts, underground influence—there was no field they didn't touch. Silas himself was the backbone of the empire. Ministers listened to him. Generals respected him. If Major Joshua ever stood in front of this man, he wouldn't speak—he would kneel.
Silas paused, then turned his gaze toward the young woman beside him.
She was Riya Blackwell.
His granddaughter.
Sharp-minded. Proud. Beautiful. Dangerous in her own way.
Silas studied her quietly for a few seconds before speaking again.
"Look at him carefully," Silas said calmly.
"Tell me—would he be suitable for you?"
Riya blinked, surprised by the sudden question.
She scoffed.
"I saw enough," she said dismissively. "He's not even aware of your identity. No background, no powerful family name—he's clearly not on our level, Grandpa. Stop thinking about such things."
Her words were cold and decisive.
Silas didn't argue.
He only smiled faintly, eyes deep and unreadable, as if he were looking far beyond what Riya could see.
"Very well," he said softly.
But in his mind, a different thought echoed.
A young man who dares to set terms with me… without knowing who I am…
That alone makes him interesting.
Somewhere else, PK sat in his classroom, phone resting quietly in his hand—completely unaware that he had just brushed against one of the most powerful families in the country.
And that fate, once again, had begun to move.