At noon, the sun hung high over the city, baking the asphalt. Most students from Wolven High were crowding into the cafeteria, fighting over trays of meat, but Ren had other business.
She walked out of the school gates, adjusting her backpack. She hadn't changed her clothes; she was still wearing the loose white t-shirt and the school blazer draped carelessly over her shoulders. To the untrained eye, she looked like a scholarship student from the Wildlands who couldn't afford proper tailoring.
She stopped in front of the **Alliance Bank**.
It was a fortress of glass and steel, the financial heart of the Wolf Alliance. The air conditioning inside was set to a freezing temperature, a luxury that screamed wealth.
Ren walked in. The lobby was quiet, smelling of polished marble and money.
She approached the nearest counter. Inside the glass booth, a female teller—a Beta with heavily manicured nails—was filing her cuticles. She glanced up at Ren, her eyes sweeping over the cheap t-shirt and the messy hair.
The teller didn't even put down her file.
"The ATM is outside for small withdrawals," the teller said, her voice dripping with boredom. "This counter is for VIP transactions and large corporate accounts only."
It was the standard treatment. In a society ruled by Pack hierarchy and wealth, if you didn't look like an Alpha or a CEO, you were invisible.
Ren didn't say a word. She didn't get angry. She didn't argue.
She simply reached into her pocket and pulled out a card.
With a flick of her wrist, she slid it through the slot under the glass window. The movement was casual, dismissive—like she was tossing a coin to a beggar.
The teller sighed, annoyed that the girl wasn't leaving. She reached out to grab the card, ready to throw it back.
"I told you, we don't take student IDs or—"
Her fingers brushed the surface of the card, and she froze.
It wasn't plastic. It was cold, heavy metal.
The teller looked down.
The card was matte black, absorbing the light around it. In the center, there was no chip, but a single, tiny raw gemstone that glowed with a faint, blue pulsance—**Spirit Ore**.
And in the corner, embossed in gold script, were the words: *Supreme Alliance Unlimited*.
The teller's breath hitched. Her blood ran cold.
This wasn't just a credit card. This was a **Black Diamond Card**. There were less than ten of these in the entire continent. They were issued only to the Supreme Alphas of the ruling Packs or the hidden warlords of the underground economy.
The file dropped from her hand, clattering onto the floor.
"How... how much..." The teller stammered, her voice trembling. She stood up so fast she knocked over her chair. "How much would you like to withdraw, My Lady?"
Ren pulled her hood up, shading her eyes. She tapped her fingers on the marble counter.
"Transfer," she said. Her voice was low, raspy, and bored. "Everything in the secondary account."
Three minutes later.
The Branch Manager, a fat Beta man sweating profusely, personally escorted Ren to the revolving doors. He was bowing so low his nose almost touched his knees.
"Miss Ren! Thank you for your patronage! If you need anything—anything at all—please call my personal line!"
Ren waved her hand dismissively, not bothering to look back. She stepped out into the blinding sunlight, leaving a bank full of stunned employees in her wake.
***
Two blocks away from the bank, tucked inside a quiet, bamboo-lined alley, was a restaurant called **"The Scholar's Inn."**
It looked unassuming from the outside—just a wooden door and a small sign. But the cars parked in front of it told a different story. There was a bulletproof sedan with diplomatic plates and a sleek sports car belonging to a Pack heir.
This was where the real power players of the city ate.
Ren walked up to the second floor, pushing open the door to a private room.
**Principal Xu**—Elder Xu of the Supreme Council—was already waiting.
When he saw Ren enter, the old man, who was feared by half the city, actually stood up. He poured a cup of tea with his own hands.
"You're late, little ancestor," Xu said, a warm smile breaking his stern face. "I heard you caused quite a stir at school today. Gordon came to my office with that Tactical Analysis paper, shaking like a leaf. He thinks he discovered the next Napoleon."
Ren sat down, throwing her backpack onto the chair next to her. She kicked her legs up, resting her feet on the wooden rung of the chair—a posture that would have given Mrs. Lee a heart attack.
"He's easily impressed," Ren said, taking the tea. She blew on the steam. "It was just a basic perimeter defense strategy."
Xu sighed, shaking his head. "Ren, you have a gift. Why waste it in the Delta Stream? With your tactical mind, you could lead the Student Council. You could be the Commander of the Academy's defense force."
"Not interested," Ren said flatly. She took a sip of the tea. "I'm only here for my grandmother. And... I need to check some archives in the school library."
"Archives?" Xu raised an eyebrow. "What are you looking for?"
"Classified intel," Ren said. "Don't ask."
Xu laughed. "Fine, fine. I know better than to pry into the business of **'The Ghost'**."
***
Just then, the door to the private room was pushed open.
There was no knock. No request for permission. Just the heavy, wooden door swinging open under the hand of someone who was used to owning every room he walked into.
"Elder Xu," a voice rasped from the doorway. It was deep, textured like gravel and velvet. "I heard you were having a secret lunch with your 'successor'. Mind if I crash the party?"
Ren's hand paused in mid-air, the teacup halfway to her lips.
She didn't need to turn around. That scent—winter snow, cedar, and the metallic tang of blood—flooded the small room instantly. It was a scent so powerful it felt like a physical weight pressing against her chest.
**Alpha Juan.**
He walked in, followed by a very awkward-looking **Dr. Luke**.
Juan looked as lazy as ever. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the sharp, elegant lines of his collarbones. His hair was messy, and his eyes were half-lidded, as if he had just rolled out of bed.
But Ren knew better. She had seen those eyes in the alleyway an hour ago.
Juan walked straight to the empty chair opposite Ren. He pulled it out and sat down, stretching his long legs out until they almost touched hers under the table.
Principal Xu looked surprised, but he recovered quickly. "Juan? What are you doing here? I thought you were... hibernating."
"I got hungry," Juan said. He turned his head slowly. His dark, abyssal eyes locked onto Ren.
There was a smile playing on his lips. It wasn't a polite smile. It was the smile of a wolf who had just found a very interesting rabbit.
"Introduce me," Juan said softly.
"Ah, right," Xu gestured to Ren. "This is my new student, Ren. She just transferred to Wolven High."
"Ren," Juan repeated the name. He rolled it around on his tongue, testing the weight of it. "Nice name."
He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. The distance between them closed. Ren could feel the heat radiating from him.
"So, Ren," Juan murmured, his eyes dancing with amusement. "I heard the infirmary was missing some high-grade painkillers today. Did you take them?"
Ren sipped her tea, her expression unreadable. She didn't look away. "The infirmary is for dispensing medicine, isn't it? **Dr. Luke**?"
She tossed the question over Juan's shoulder to Luke.
Luke, who was trying to make himself invisible in the corner, choked on air. "Cough! Yes! Yes! Ren... uh... student Ren wasn't feeling well."
Juan didn't break eye contact. His gaze dropped to Ren's hands—the hands that held the teacup steadily, the same hands that had snapped a rogue's wrist bone an hour ago.
"Not feeling well?" Juan whispered. His voice dropped an octave, intimate and dangerous. "Or maybe... you're just tired from **exercise**?"
The double meaning hung in the air. *Exercise. Fighting.*
Principal Xu looked between them, confused. "Do you two... know each other?"
Ren slammed her teacup down. *Clink.*
She stood up, grabbing her backpack.
"We don't," Ren said coldly. She looked down at Juan, her eyes full of ice. "Principal Xu, I'm full. Since you have **elderly company** to entertain, I'll be going now."
*Elderly company.*
She was calling the Supreme Alpha an old man.
Ren turned on her heel and walked out, the door clicking shut behind her.
The room was silent for a second.
Then, a low, husky laugh broke the silence. Juan threw his head back, laughing—a genuine, amused sound that startled even Luke.
"Elderly company?" Juan murmured, rubbing his chin. His eyes were shining with a predatory light. "She has claws. I like her."
**[Chapter 6 End]**