chapter 153 migrate estate

Mark leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table. "Alright. Take me to Mirage Estate."

Mist Low paused mid-sip, then set his glass down with a smirk. "Oh? Finally done playing around?"

Mark shrugged. "Sick of renting. I want my own place."

Mist Low chuckled, flicking a coin into the air. "Good call. Mirage Estate isn't just a house—it's a fortress in the middle of the city. Private, secure, and just the right mix of luxury and utility. You'll love it."

Mark stood up. "Then let's go."

Mist Low stretched lazily before following. "Alright, alright. But don't say I didn't warn you—it's a statement, not just a home."

---

The Journey Through the City

They stepped out into the bustling night streets, neon lights reflecting off the rain-slicked pavement. The city was alive—cars whirred past on silent engines, holographic billboards flashed advertisements, and people moved in waves through the entertainment districts.

Mist Low led the way, weaving through alleys and cutting across quiet side streets, avoiding the main roads.

Mark raised an eyebrow. "We taking a shortcut, or are you just paranoid?"

Mist Low grinned. "Why not both?"

Soon, they emerged into one of the city's most exclusive districts. Unlike the chaotic downtown area, this place had a controlled, eerie calm. The buildings were taller, the streets wider, and security was tight. High-end establishments lined the roads—elite casinos, underground trading hubs, and VIP-only clubs.

Mark noticed something else—a massive training center just a few blocks away.

The building was sleek, almost militaristic, with high-tech barriers and drone surveillance. Bright neon letters read:

Phantom Core Training Grounds

It wasn't a public gym. It was a combat training facility, known for producing some of the best mercenaries, bodyguards, and fighters in the city.

Mist Low followed his gaze and smirked. "Ah, noticed that, did you? Best training center in the city. Private combat arenas, virtual battle simulations, elite instructors… and it's right next to your new home."

Mark liked that.

"Convenient," he muttered.

Mist Low chuckled. "Yeah, you won't have an excuse to slack off now."

---

Arrival at Mirage Estate

Finally, they stopped in front of a massive, high-security gate. Unlike the surrounding buildings, Mirage Estate wasn't just another high-rise—it was a sleek, modern mansion, built into the heart of the city but completely cut off from the noise.

The outer walls were made of reinforced composite materials, lined with automated defense turrets and AI security drones. The gate itself was biometrically locked—only the owner could get in.

Mist Low whistled. "There it is. The perfect mix of power, privacy, and accessibility."

Mark stared up at the towering structure. Glass-paneled walls, private terraces, rooftop access, underground parking—this was no ordinary mansion.

It was a fortress disguised as a home.

Mist Low glanced at Mark's expression and grinned. "So? You like it?"

Mark smirked.

"Yeah. This'll do."

Mark stood on the balcony of Mirage Estate, arms crossed as he overlooked the city. The towering skyline stretched endlessly before him—a kingdom of neon and shadows, power and deception. But his attention wasn't on the city. It was locked on the Phantom Core Training Grounds.

A fortress within the city, brimming with elite fighters, mercenaries, and corporate enforcers. The place was a proving ground—where the strongest sharpened their skills and the weak were discarded.

Mark exhaled slowly.

This wasn't just a training center. It was an opportunity.

"Hey, Mist Low," Mark said, his voice cold and calculated.

Mist Low, who had been casually flipping a silver coin in his hand, paused. His sharp gaze shifted to Mark, sensing the shift in tone.

"This is good," Mark said, nodding toward Phantom Grounds. His expression was unreadable, but his words carried weight. "Mortal Online is controlling everything. If we want to survive—if we want to thrive—we need to build our empire. And we start by taking control of Phantom Grounds."

The silver coin flipped into the air, catching the light, before Mist Low snatched it mid-fall. For the first time, he wasn't grinning.

He was thinking.

"Interesting," Mist Low muttered. His fingers idly rolled the coin along his knuckles. "You're saying we don't just train there… we take it over?"

Mark nodded. His gaze was sharp, unwavering. "**That place isn't just a training facility. It's a gathering ground for the strongest. If we control Phantom Grounds, we don't just gain influence—we control the flow of power in this city."

Mist Low chuckled under his breath. "Heh… power, huh?" He glanced at Mark, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "You've never been one to chase after control. What changed?"

Mark remained silent for a moment, staring at Phantom Grounds. The neon lights reflected in his eyes, cold and unrelenting.

"The game changed."

Mist Low's smirk faded for a moment. Then, slowly, it returned—but this time, it was sharper. Darker.

"And you're planning to change the rules, huh?"

Mark's voice didn't waver. "Step by step. We take Phantom Grounds. Then, we take everything else."

Mist Low flipped his coin one last time before letting it disappear between his fingers. He let out a low laugh.

"Alright, Mark. Let's take Phantom Grounds."