(Continued) —
Manager Sagar waited until the auction hall had nearly emptied before approaching Sozo backstage. The last clusters of guests were still murmuring near the exits, phones pressed to their ears, voices low and urgent. None of them noticed the quiet exchange taking place near the side corridor.
"Mr. Sozo."
Sozo turned. "Yes?"
Sagar's smile was carefully measured, the kind reserved for clients who had just rewritten the evening's numbers. "OGV is very pleased to have you here tonight. In fact, our president would like to meet you personally."
Sozo's eyes brightened at once. "The president of OGV himself?"
"Yes."
"Then why are we still standing here?"
Sagar blinked, caught off guard by the immediate enthusiasm.
Sozo's smile widened. "Let's go meet him."
There was another reason for the eagerness, and Sozo did not hide it from himself. He now possessed trillions. But he was not naïve. If trillions alone could solve every problem in this era, the rich would not still be losing properties, empires, and influence every day. There were always larger players. Larger markets. Larger opportunities. And he had only six days left on the trial. He intended to use every single one of them.
---
OGV was not an ordinary bank.
It was one of the largest private financial institutions serving India's true elite. Its reach extended far beyond national borders. In both the real world and the game world, OGV maintained major holdings, investment networks, properties, and quiet financial relationships across India and Italy. Ordinary people had never heard of its private services. Among billionaires, industrialists, politicians, high-level Players, and old-money families, however, the name carried a different weight entirely.
The bank did not chase poor customers. It chased people who could move markets.
Tonight it had found someone who had done something rarer: a man who spent trillions at a public auction without hesitation, whose identity no one could place.
Sagar personally escorted Sozo into a waiting BMW. The car slipped through Kolkata's night streets with the smooth silence of expensive engineering. Neon signs and streetlights blurred past the tinted windows. Sozo sat quietly, watching the city move, feeling the residual adrenaline of the auction slowly settle into something colder and more focused.
Soon the car stopped outside one of Bengal's most exclusive establishments.
Durga Bangal.
The only seven-star hotel in the state.
Sagar led him through the entrance. The lobby opened around them like a statement carved in marble and light. Every surface, every carefully placed arrangement of flowers, every polished floor tile seemed designed to communicate a single message: money belongs here.
They entered a private elevator. Sagar pressed 29. The cabin rose in near silence. When the doors opened, Sozo stepped into a private executive suite.
An elderly Italian man stood the moment he saw him. He walked forward with a warm, practiced smile and extended his hand.
"Mr. Sozo. Welcome."
Sozo shook it firmly. "Thank you, Mr. President. The pleasure is mine."
The old man laughed softly. "Please, sit."
They settled opposite each other. Sozo did not waste time on ceremony.
"Let's get to the point, shall we?"
The president's eyes brightened. "As expected of you." He leaned forward slightly. "I'll be direct. I would like you to open an account with OGV."
Sozo answered at once. "Sure."
The president blinked. "That quickly?"
"Why not?" Sozo smiled. "Actually, I have something to ask from you as well."
"Oh?"
"I have six days."
The old man's expression shifted. "Six days?"
"Yes. I intend to purchase a large number of properties throughout India and Italy. Luxury properties. Villas. Complexes. Houses. Commercial buildings." He counted lightly on his fingers. "Cars. Jets. Whatever catches my interest. And since OGV already has branches and connections throughout both countries, your bank will make things considerably easier."
The president studied him for a long moment, then smiled. "Indeed." He thought for several seconds, fingers resting against the rim of his cup. "Then perhaps I can make things even easier. Tomorrow morning I can arrange a private video conference. Everyone important from Kolkata. And I'll invite our major clients from Italy and the rest of India as well—high-society families, industrialists, property owners, company presidents. If you want to invest in their businesses or purchase their properties, they will certainly be interested."
Sozo inclined his head. "Much appreciated." He took a measured sip from his own cup, set it down, and continued. "Now… let's talk about a project."
The president tilted his head. "A project?"
"Yes. A very large one." Sozo glanced toward the dark window. "I want to build a club."
"A club?"
"Not an ordinary club."
"Then what kind?"
"For now," Sozo said, smiling, "I can't reveal everything. But let's say it's about profit, connections, and opportunity. One day you'll understand why."
The old man waited, patient.
"For now, let's call it an Adventure Club. A place where it doesn't matter whether you're a Player or a Non-Player. Everyone can enter. Everyone can participate. But behind the scenes…" His smile sharpened. "It will be about investment. Connections. And gathering people with influence."
The president remained silent, listening.
"That's why I bought the Twin Tower Island," Sozo continued. "It can become the headquarters. But we need branches. Lots of them. India first. Italy too. And eventually…" He looked toward the night sky beyond the glass. "The entire world."
The president's gaze was steady. "And you intend to finance all of this yourself?"
"For now. And I'll continue investing in it in the future." Sozo sighed then—an honest, tired sound. "Although… I only have six days."
The president noticed the weight behind the sigh. It was not the sigh of a man playing at ambition. It carried exhaustion, pressure, and the quiet knowledge of limited time.
The old man could not help smiling. "Mr. Sozo… aren't you being a little too ambitious? All of this—" he gestured lightly at the suite, the city beyond, the scale of the plan—"you want to begin everything within seven days? It sounds impossible."
Sozo's smile returned, softer this time. "You know what my mother used to say?"
The president leaned forward. "What?"
"The rich shouldn't believe in the word *impossible*. That word exists for the poor." He raised one finger. "For the rich…" A second finger. "It's *I. Me. Mine.* And *possible*." He laughed quietly. "Or simply—*I am possible*."
Silence filled the room for several heartbeats.
Sozo looked toward the window again. "As for the seven days… I don't expect everything to be completed. I just want the foundation. The starting point. The investment. The machinery moving. After that… it can grow."
For a long moment no one spoke.
Then the old president laughed—loud, genuine, almost delighted.
"Hahaha!" He leaned back in his chair, still laughing. "Hahahaha!" The others in the suite glanced at him in surprise. Finally he wiped his eyes. "Well said! Very well said! You've made me feel like my younger self again."
He stood. "I'll do everything within my ability to help you achieve what you want."
Sozo rose as well. "Thanks. But let's stop here for tonight." He yawned, the first real sign of fatigue he had allowed himself. "I need sleep."
The president looked mildly surprised. "Sleep?"
"It's been years since I slept peacefully." Sozo's smile was faint, almost private. "But tonight… I think I can." He extended his hand. "I'll count on you in the future, President."
The old man shook it firmly. "You have my word." He turned toward Sagar. "My manager will personally take you wherever you need to go."
Sozo shook his head. "It's already late. I just need a room." He looked at Sagar. "And I assume you brought everything?"
Sagar nodded at once. "Yes, sir. The game documents. The property papers. The auction records. Everything."
"Thank you, Mr. Sagar."
As Sozo walked toward the exit, the president of OGV watched his back. For a strange moment the old man did not see a young upstart with sudden money. He saw a king—one who had not yet built his kingdom, but who had already decided that the kingdom would exist.
The president's smile faded. His eyes grew serious.
There was something about Sozo. A calm certainty that did not belong to ordinary ambition. The old man had met countless rich people, arrogant billionaires, powerful Players. Sozo was different. Tonight's auction had not been the beginning of his rise. It had merely been the moment the world first noticed him.
---
The president of OGV was known in West Bengal as Tofun Bose.
That was not his real name.
It was simply the identity he used in India. In Italy, among the old financial families and the uppermost circles of European society, he was known by another name entirely—
Lorenzo Bellavita.
And Lorenzo Bellavita was far more influential than the people of Kolkata realized.
---
Park Street — Rajdev Resort
The BMW moved smoothly through the night. Sozo sat in the back seat, body finally beginning to unwind. His eyes drifted closed. He almost fell asleep.
Then the car stopped.
BRRRT.
He opened his eyes. "Huh?"
They had arrived.
"Oh." He rubbed his face. "It's nearby." A tired smile. "Thanks, Mr. Sagar."
"It's my pleasure, sir."
Sagar stepped out and opened the door. Sozo entered the resort.
The moment he stepped through the entrance, he stopped.
The lobby was vast. Warm golden light reflected from polished marble floors. The walls carried a careful blend of traditional Bengali motifs and modern luxury. At the center of the high ceiling hung an enormous crystal chandelier—a gigantic *jhomer*—its hundreds of glass pieces catching the light and scattering it across the space like tiny stars.
Beneath it stood the main reception desk, long and elegant. Several receptionists worked quietly behind it. To the right, the hotel restaurant glowed under soft pendant lights; a few guests were still dining, others sat in lounge chairs speaking in low voices over drinks. Along the left side, a grand staircase curved upward with polished railings. Beside it, two elevators with golden doors waited. Near the far wall, sofas and low tables offered quiet places to sit. A decorative indoor fountain murmured in one corner, its water mixing with the soft music that filled the air.
Everything was spotless. Everything was expensive. Everything was designed to make a guest feel important.
Sozo stood for a moment, simply looking.
Only a few hours earlier he had been worrying about rent. Now he stood inside a luxury resort with enough money to purchase entire buildings.
He smiled, quiet and real, then walked toward the reception desk.
The receptionist looked up at once. "Good evening, sir. Welcome to Rajdev Resort."
Sozo rested one hand lightly on the counter. "Good evening. I'd like to ask about a room."
The receptionist straightened. "Certainly, sir."
Sozo glanced upward at the chandelier, then around the lobby once more. For some reason the place felt strangely peaceful.
Perhaps tonight really would be the first night in years that he could sleep without fear.