Five and a half hours had passed. Vale stretched awake from a dreamless sleep. He couldn't recall when he had fallen asleep, but he felt refreshed. That was enough for him.
His nose twitched. Vale's head turned in the direction of the aromas, which came from a small living room table where different platters of food were laid out in small portions.
His stomach growled. There were two steaks, sausages, slices of bread, and some fruits. Vale wanted to ask where the food had come from, but his mouth was full before he could think of speaking.
A buzz filled the air at the same time a beep sound chimed.
A new file appeared.
'Voz//Delta Initiative - Operation 001'
Vale stared at the screen and watched the file blinking over and over, waiting for it to be clicked.
He clicked.
The screen switched. The next display was layers -- layers of assets, profiles, psychological indexes, timeline of digital behaviour, etc.
'Merrill Voz'
'Age: 42'
'Founder & CEO, Vozbyte Technologies'
'Net Worth: $78.7M (est.)'
'Addictions: Gambling. Risk Validation. Image Curation'
'Emotional Risk Index: 72%'
'Threat Level: Historically Disloyal'
'Connection: Ex-confidant to Malcom Rykard. Severed 11 years ago after breach of protocol.'
Vale Holmes raised an eyebrow. "Friends of the family, huh?"
'Correction,' the System replied, 'he was a necessary virus. Discarded. You will reclaim his assets.'
"You mean buy him out?"
'Worse. Influence him into selling his control -- then make him thank you for it.'
Holmes blinked. "That's not a takeover. That's mental warfare."
'Precisely. Order One was reputation. Order Two is manipulation. One cannot inherit a legacy without earning leverage.'
More files were opened on a larger projection on the wall opposite Vale. Three files were highlighted.
~Merrill's current portfolio: spread thin
~Ongoing debt negotiation with shady people in Macau
~A sealed civil case filed by a woman named Priya Garside, flagged Sensitive & Hidden.
Then, a video file blinked at the bottom left of the screen. It was short and silent. It showed Merrill in a hotel suite. He was not alone.
Vale didn't watch the video to the end. He exhaled heavily as he spoke: "You want me to blackmail him?"
'No. That would be crude. Firstly, you will make him paranoid. Then rescue him. Then ruin him.'
A timer flashed at the top.
'71:54:22 remaining'
'Step One: Create vulnerability. Engage via Shadow Account. Deploy alternate identity - Nexus R'
Vale chuckled as he drank his second glass of water.
"Sounds like a Bond villain with a tech startup."
The System paused, then adjusted the alias to:
'Alias Activated: Hulio Rykard.'
Vale's smile died.
"You picked his name."
'He was my prototype.'
Vale's fingers tightened around the glass cup in his hand. "Was?"
'He lasted 12 days. You've lasted 3.'
The screen blinked off. In its place appeared a contact card, half-glitched, half-smiling:
'Merrill Voz'
'Private Line- Encrypted'
'Last Activity: 3 minutes ago'
'Tag: Insecure connection. Open to suggestion'
Vale stared at the card.
His first target. Not to kill. Not to expose. To control and then discard.
***
The key to manipulation wasn't force. It was timing.
Vale knew this as he'd read it in a book before. Also, the System confirmed it. But watching it in real time -- watching it move -- was something else entirely.
The plan wasn't to corner Merrill Voz. It was to lure him to the cliff's edge and let him sprint off on his own.
Holmes stood before the projection wall now, an architect of invisible ruin. Now, he wore a deep green silk shirt with long sleeves. His cream colored trousers were tailored to fit his toned legs.
Merrill was in his office at that moment. The System zoomed in on Merrill's open calendar.
'Private Call - ST. VIN 13:00'
"St. Vincent," Vale murmured as he recognized the name. It had nothing to do with a church or a home.
This was a casino. A floating one. Mob-owned. Crypto-masked. Of course, Merrill's guilty pleasure.
Vale took a sip of whiskey and welcomed the heat it brought to his throat and chest.
The System whispered: 'He's due to lose $540k today. Would you like us to increase his debt?'
Vale tilted his head. "No. I want him desperate, not suicidal. Just... thirsty."
The next window opened.
Priya Garside.
The lawsuit Merrill had buried. Former assistant. A quiet accusation that was never proven. It never aired. Because her silence had been bought. The System had tracked the payout, hidden in layered crypto transfers and disguised under names too absurd to be real.
"Good," Vale stated. "Tear him open."
'Phase One activated'
The System injected a subtle edit into a database. It flagged Merrill's name in a story about internal misconduct. There were no full articles, just a whisper in the algorithm.
The response was almost immediate.
Vale watched as three VC board members opened a private Slack channel.
~Topic: Merrill's mess?
Two of them requested urgent calls. The third typed: "Didn't he promise us he had no skeletons left?"
Vale chuckled. "And now, we give him a savior."
A new message had been prepped, encrypted, and sent through a third-tier brokerage firm -- one the System had acquired an hour earlier without anyone noticing.
The message to Merrill Voz was brief.
'Merrill. Rumors are resurfacing. Garside may be shopping her story. I know people who clean messes for a living. Discreet. Expensive. Worth it -- Nexus R.'
He hit send. Then waited.
It took twelve minutes. Merrill's phone rang.
Vale watched the video feed as Merrill Voz turned pale as his jaw dropped. The man's fingers visibly trembled.
Then, he called the number.