The silence in the library was electric, a bridge of tension stretching between Chen Yue's calculating gaze and Rishie's baffled stare. I could feel the weight of their attention, but my mind was already moving past the classroom drama. Brad's whimpering was background noise. I had a kingdom to build, and the first brick—my workshop—was hitting a structural snag that no amount of Forex profit could fix.
I left the library without a word to either of them, the heavy oak doors thudding shut behind me. I had $1,450 in the bank and a vision of a high-tech fortress, but when I checked my phone, a notification from Butch was waiting. It wasn't about the plumbing or the lighting.
"Lucas, we got a problem. City inspector showed up. Not the usual guy. She shut us down. Said the zoning for 'Chaycer Industries' is under review. She's still there."
I felt a surge of cold irritation. I flagged a rideshare, my eyes fixed on the flickering candles of the market as we sped toward the industrial district. When I arrived, the rusty exterior of my auto-shop was shadowed by a sleek, black government sedan.
Standing by the entrance, holding a digital tablet like a scepter, was a woman who looked like she'd been carved out of obsidian and ice. She wore a slate-grey power suit that screamed federal authority. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight it looked painful, and her eyes, behind rimless glasses, were scanning my "den" with predatory intent.
[ TARGET IDENTIFIED: DIANA VANCE ]
[ OCCUPATION: REGIONAL DIRECTOR OF URBAN DEVELOPMENT / SPECIAL ENVOY ]
[ STATUS: FEMME FATALE / BUREAUCRATIC WALL ]
"You must be Mr. Chaycer," she said, her voice a low, melodic purr that carried a hidden threat. She didn't look up from her tablet. "I was told a 'prodigy' had taken this lease. I didn't realize the prodigy was still in high school."
"Director Vance," I said, stepping out of the car. I adjusted the cuffs of my charcoal jacket, feeling the System adjust my posture to match her dominance. "I wasn't aware that urban development took such a personal interest in small-scale renovations."
"When those renovations involve high-density fiber optics and industrial-grade cooling systems in a zone marked for 'Light Automotive,' it becomes my business," she replied, finally looking at me.
She walked a slow circle around me, the click of her heels on the cracked asphalt sounding like a countdown. "You have the capital, clearly. But you don't have the permits. And in this state, I am the permits."
I activated the Eyes of the Beholder, searching for the crack in her armor.
[ REGRET: SHE SACRIFICED HER PERSONAL LIFE FOR A CAREER BUILT ON CONTROLLING OTHERS. ]
[ HIDDEN DESIRE: SHE WANTS TO BE OUTSMARTED BY SOMEONE WHO ISN'T AFRAID OF HER. ]
"You're not here about zoning, Diana," I said, leaning against the brick wall of my shop. I let a slow, confident smirk spread across my face. "You're here because my trades on the exchange triggered a flag in the state's financial monitoring wing. You're a scout for the people who wonder how a teenager is outperforming their algorithms."
Diana paused, her thumb hovering over the 'Shutdown' command on her tablet. A flicker of genuine interest crossed her face—the first sign of life in her icy mask.
"You're arrogant," she noted. "Most men in this town stutter when I hand them a cease-and-desist."
"Most men in this town don't have a vision that extends past the next harvest," I countered. "You want to block my progress? Fine. You'll delay me by forty-eight hours while I move the servers to a private basement. But you'll lose the chance to see what I'm actually building. You're a gatekeeper, Diana. Why don't you try being a partner instead?"
[ SILVER TONGUE ACTIVATED: PERSUASION +15 ]
[ SYSTEM WARNING: TARGET IS HIGH-LEVEL. SUCCESS CHANCE: 45% ]
Diana stepped closer, her scent—something expensive and sharp, like bergamot and steel—filling my senses. She reached out, her gloved finger tracing the lapel of my suit.
"A partner?" she whispered. "I don't partner with children, Lucas. I own them. If you want this workshop to open, you're going to have to prove you're worth the 'special exception' I'd have to write."
She tapped her tablet, and a new file appeared on my own phone via an encrypted burst.
"There's a local development project," she said, her eyes boring into mine. "A tech-hub initiative that's being bled dry by a corrupt contractor. Fix the audit. Find the missing three million. Do that by Friday, and I'll sign off on your 'Automotive' shop. Fail... and I'll have the bulldozers here by Saturday."
She turned and headed toward her sedan without waiting for an answer.
[ NEW QUEST: THE LADY'S GAMBIT ]
[ OBJECTIVE: EXPOSE THE CORRUPTION IN THE 'ROKEHURST TECH INITIATIVE' ]
[ REWARD: DOMAIN LEGALIZATION & 200 INTELLECT XP ]
I watched the black car pull away. The "Behemoth" wasn't just fighting jocks in libraries anymore. I had just been handed a blade by a woman who wanted to see if I'd cut myself with it.
"Butch!" I called out.
Butch poked his head out of the garage, looking pale. "Is she gone? That woman... she felt like a snake, Lucas."
"She's worse than a snake, Butch," I said, looking at the encrypted audit files on my phone. "She's a challenge. Get the wiring finished. I have three million dollars to find."
The game was no longer local. The "High Society" wasn't coming to find me; they were already blocking the door. I sat on my crate throne, the violet HUD of the System glowing bright in the dim workshop. It was time to show Diana Vance that I didn't just understand the market—I understood the people who tried to cheat it.