In the Tenjiku Federation, the air inside the Verma residence was thick with the scent of leather and unsaid apologies. Sonic Verma stood in the center of the living room, his chest heaving. He had endured thirty minutes of his father's "disciplinary intervention"—a polite term for being chased with a belt.
"Enough, Dad!" Sonic gasped, clutching the back of a sofa to steady himself. "Just give me one month. Thirty days! I'm going there for business, and business only. I'll learn the ropes, see how the markets move, and I'll be back before you even miss me."
Amit Verma wiped the sweat from his brow, the heavy leather belt dangling loosely from his hand. He looked at his son with a mixture of exhaustion and grudging respect. "Ugh! What am I going to do with you? You're lucky your mother and sister aren't here to see this. You can take a beating from me all day, but we both know you'll end up running to your mother the second I turn my back."
"And you should have thought about that before you started swinging that belt!" a sharp voice rang out from the kitchen.
Pooja Verma emerged, her eyes narrowed and a heavy wooden rolling pin gripped in her hand like a war club. "I've been watching this from the hallway. Why are you always so intent on bruising my son? What has he done that's so terrible?"
Amit's face paled instantly. "Wife... put the rolling pin down. That thing is dangerous."
Pooja tossed the rolling pin onto the sofa with a thud and stepped closer, her hands on her hips. "Dangerous? My rolling pin is dangerous? You've been tenderizing my son's back for half an hour with a belt, and you're worried about a piece of wood? If you lay another hand on him, Amit, I hope you like the taste of tap water, because that's the only thing you'll be 'eating' for dinner tonight."
Amit surrendered immediately, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. "Alright, alright! It was just... a bit of tough love. A lesson in discipline. Right, Sonic? I didn't hit you that hard, did I?" He shot his son a look that screamed 'Agree with me if you want to live.'
Sonic winced, feeling the heat on his lower back. "Yeah, Dad. It was a real 'tender' moment. I can barely feel my legs."
Amit sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a sleek, midnight-black credit card. He slapped it onto the coffee table. "Fine. Take it. But if I don't see a business plan by the time you return, the belt won't be the only thing I use next time."
Sonic's eyes locked onto the Black Card. In an instant, the pain in his back vanished, replaced by the adrenaline of pure greed. "No, Dad! You didn't hit me hard at all! You were basically just giving me a massage. Pin number 31111... Mom, look at him! He's the most misunderstood, generous man in the Federation. Why are you always so mean to him?"
He snatched the card with the reflexes of a cobra. Well, he thought, a thirty-minute beating for a ten-million-limit card? That's just a standard investment fee.
"I'm going shopping with Arav!" Sonic shouted, already halfway out the door.
"Don't stay out too late!" Amit called after him. "You leave in two days. Get your affairs in order!"
Sonic kicked his bike into life, the engine's roar echoing through the quiet street. He skidded to a halt in front of Arav's house. "Arav! Get out here! We've got capital, baby!"
Arav stepped out, looking at Sonic's slightly awkward posture as he sat on the bike. As Arav moved to sit behind him, Sonic flinched. "Whoa, whoa! Watch the back, man! Maintain some distance."
Arav laughed as they pulled away. "So, you bought the tickets with blood, sweat, and leather, huh?"
"How did you know?" Sonic grunted as they hit the main road.
"Brother, if you can read my mind, I can read the marks on your back. How much did the 'massage' cost your old man?"
"A Black Card," Sonic said, a grin returning to his face. "Ten million minimum limit. Ten million for a few welts? I'd take that trade every day of the week."
Arav looked thoughtful. "So, the Pristine Peninsula is a go?"
"It's a go. And I'm not spending a dime of this on hotels or parties. I'm going to invest it. I'll flip this ten million into a hundred, and then I'll show my father a business model that'll make him retire his belt for good."
"Big dreams for a guy who can't sit down properly," Arav teased.
"You have to dream big to hit the small targets, Arav! If we don't aim for a billion-dollar empire, we'll never even make it to a million. If you're going to shoot, shoot for the stars. Even if you miss, you'll land on a high-rise rooftop."
The Rising Sun Empire: The Velvet Trap
In a high-rise penthouse overlooking the neon glow of Edo City, Ryuji Khurana sat cross-legged on a silk-upholstered sofa, sipping high-grade matcha. His eyes were cold, reflecting the calculated ruthlessness of the Khurana military lineage. Opposite him sat the executive Aisha had humiliated earlier.
"So, my sister rejected the deal," Ryuji stated. It wasn't a question.
"She did, Sir. She realized you were the one behind it. Miss Aisha is incredibly sharp when it comes to the boardroom... but when it comes to men..." He hesitated.
Ryuji's expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop. "I told her before. Ren Takahashi is a bottom-feeder. A gold-digger with a pretty face. But she's still obsessed with this 'scripted' fairy tale of true love."
"Sir, if he is such a problem, why not simply... have him removed?" the executive whispered.
Ryuji set his cup down with a soft clink. "No. I can keep my sister in a golden cage, I can pamper her and surround her with luxury, but the moment she steps into the real world, she needs to feel the cold. She needs to understand that the world doesn't run on love; it runs on leverage. If she finds out the truth on her own, the lesson will stick. If I tell her, I'm just the 'evil brother' again."
He dismissed the man with a wave of his hand and dialed his lead detective. "Where is the parasite?"
"Sir, Ren Takahashi is at a VIP hotel in the Shinjuku district. He's spending Miss Aisha's money on a penthouse suite. He isn't alone. He's with a local model."
A cruel, satisfied smirk touched Ryuji's lips. "Send the location and the room number to my sister. Let's see how long her 'true love' lasts when the script goes off the rails."
Aisha was driving her sleek, obsidian-black coupe toward her estate when her phone chimed. She glanced at the screen. It was an anonymous message: Hotel Celeste, Room 811.
Her heart skipped a beat, but her face remained a mask of granite. She didn't go home. She diverted to the hotel, the engine of her car screaming as she tore through the city streets.
At the hotel entrance, a guard stepped forward, his hand raised. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but this is a VIP-only floor. I cannot allow—"
Aisha reached into her bag and slammed her Platinum Khurana card against his chest. "This hotel was built on my family's credit. If you don't step aside, I'll make sure you're guarding a parking lot in the Wolf Dominion by tomorrow morning."
The guard turned pale and stepped back instantly. "My apologies, Miss Khurana. Room 811 is at the end of the hall."
Aisha walked down the corridor, her heels sounding like the ticking of a doomsday clock. She reached Room 811 and didn't knock. She used her master-override keycard.
The door swished open. The scent of expensive perfume and champagne hit her first. Then she saw him. Ren Takahashi was lounging on the bed, a silk robe half-open, laughing with a woman who certainly wasn't his girlfriend.
Ren turned around, expecting room service. When he saw Aisha standing there, the blood drained from his face. To him, she wasn't the woman he loved—she was the 'Golden Goose' that had just realized the cage was open.
"Aisha? What are you doing here? You were supposed to be at the meeting..." He scrambled up, his mind racing to find a lie. "I... I can explain. I had a medical emergency, I was just—"
"A medical emergency?" Aisha's voice was so quiet it was terrifying. "Is that why you're using my credit card to pay for a room for her? Is the 'hospital' this five-star suite?"
Ren's panic shifted into a defensive sneer. He realized the game was up. "So what? You think you're so perfect because you're a Khurana? You're boring, Aisha. You broke off your family ties to play 'independent,' but you're still just a rich girl with no soul. I've been living like a pauper with you!"
"A pauper?" Aisha laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. "Driving Ferraris, eating at five-star tables, traveling the world on my dime... you call that being a pauper?"
"Everyone looks at me like I'm your lapdog! Like I'm living off my wife's earnings!"
"You were living off my earnings, Ren. But you aren't a lapdog. You're a parasite." Aisha pulled out her phone and dialed her manager. "Cancel every account associated with Ren Takahashi. I want every yen I ever spent on him recovered from his family's assets. If they're outside the country, track them down. I want him liquidated."
Ren fell to his knees, his bravado vanishing as fast as his bank balance. "Aisha, wait! Please! I love you! It was a mistake, I'll never do it again!"
"Love?" Aisha looked at him with pure disgust. "Love was my mistake. And today, I'm correcting it."
She stepped forward and delivered a sharp kick to his chest, knocking him back. "Don't ever touch me again. Enjoy your last few hours of luxury, Ren. Once you walk out of this hotel, you're nothing. My family will make sure you vanish from every social circle in the Empire."
She turned on her heel and walked out, her heart a cold stone in her chest. As she reached the lobby, her brother's detective called.
"Mission complete, Sir. She knows the truth. The 'Brother-in-law' is out of the picture."
"Good," Ryuji said from his balcony, watching the city lights. "As long as he's inside the hotel, he's alive. The moment he steps outside... make sure he never reaches the street. I don't want any loose ends."