chapter 155 grand entrance

The Mirage Estate stood like a fortress of glass and steel, perched atop a secluded hill overlooking the city. The sky behind it burned with the colors of sunset, casting long shadows across the manicured lawn and reflecting in the massive windows. It wasn't just a house; it was a statement—one that spoke of wealth, power, and exclusivity. Every detail, from the intricate wrought-iron gate to the precisely trimmed hedges, hinted at the kind of affluence few could even dream of.

Mist Low let out a low whistle, tilting his head back to take in the estate's grandeur. He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, his sharp eyes glinting with amusement. "Not bad. I was expecting something more… over-the-top, but this actually has taste. Mark, are you sure you can afford this?" His voice carried its usual teasing lilt, but there was genuine curiosity beneath it.

Mark, standing beside him, remained silent. He had always been difficult to read, his expressions carefully controlled, his emotions buried beneath layers of indifference. But there was something in the way he stood, the way his gaze lingered on the estate—an intensity that suggested this wasn't just another purchase for him.

Brainless Girl, as always, exuded confidence. She stretched her arms above her head, her movements lazy but her gaze sharp. "I hope the inside is as good as the outside. It'd be a shame if all this grandeur was just a pretty shell." She flashed a smirk, as if daring the house itself to disappoint her.

As if on cue, the estate's heavy mahogany doors swung open with a quiet precision that spoke of well-maintained automation. A middle-aged man stepped forward, his suit perfectly pressed, his thin-framed glasses resting neatly on the bridge of his nose. His salt-and-pepper hair was combed back in a style that suggested both experience and exhaustion.

"Good evening, gentlemen. And lady," he added after a brief pause, his gaze flicking toward Brainless Girl before settling back on Mark. His voice was smooth, professional, but there was a practiced patience behind it—the tone of a man who had dealt with many wealthy clients, each more demanding than the last.

Brainless Girl smirked, clearly amused by the subtle hesitation in his tone.

The man adjusted his glasses, his fingers barely brushing the frame. "I'm Mr. Callahan, the sales representative for Mirage Estate. I believe you are interested in purchasing this property?"

Mark nodded, his stance relaxed yet firm. "That's right. I want to finalize the deal before the seller finds another buyer."

A small, well-practiced smile curled on Mr. Callahan's lips. "Of course. Please, come in." With a smooth gesture, he stepped aside, ushering them into the estate.

---

The moment they stepped inside, the temperature shifted. Cool air brushed against their skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of the evening outside. The scent of polished wood and fresh linen lingered in the air—a subtle yet deliberate reminder of luxury. The soft glow of recessed lighting illuminated the grand foyer, where an ornate crystal chandelier hung suspended above them, its light refracting against the marble floor.

Mist Low let out a low hum, dragging his fingers along the obsidian railing of the sweeping staircase. "Alright, I'll admit, this place has style." He turned toward Mark, his grin playful. "But do you even need all this space? You don't strike me as the 'entertainment hall' type."

Mark ignored him, stepping further into the estate, his gaze sweeping across the expansive living room. Floor-to-ceiling windows dominated one side of the space, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Even with the sun sinking below the horizon, the distant lights of the city flickered like scattered stars. The furniture was sleek and modern, a perfect balance between comfort and sophistication. Everything in the room had been carefully curated—not a single detail out of place.

Brainless Girl tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Spacious, modern, and just the right amount of pretentious. Yeah, I can definitely see Mark living here." She flashed a grin, her tone teasing, but there was an undertone of approval in her words.

Mark remained silent, but the faintest flicker of amusement crossed his features before it disappeared just as quickly.

Mr. Callahan, still the perfect professional, stepped forward with the slightest incline of his head. "As I'm sure you're aware, Mirage Estate is in high demand. The owner has received multiple offers, and while yours is competitive, they are considering alternative proposals. However—" his smile took on a subtle edge, "—they are open to negotiation."

Brainless Girl hummed, stepping forward slightly, placing herself between Mark and Mr. Callahan. Her posture was casual, but there was an undeniable sharpness in her gaze. "Negotiation, huh?" She turned toward Mark, smirking. "That's why you called me."

Mark didn't deny it.

Mr. Callahan raised an eyebrow at the exchange but remained composed. "And you are…?"

Brainless Girl extended a hand, her smirk never faltering. "Brainless Girl. But you can call me BG."

There was a brief pause—a moment of hesitation so small it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else. Then, with the practiced grace of a seasoned businessman, Mr. Callahan shook her hand. "A… unique name."

Mist Low, standing off to the side, muttered under his breath, "Understatement of the year."

Brainless Girl ignored him, instead locking eyes with Mr. Callahan, her grin widening. "So, Mr. Callahan, let's talk business." She gestured toward the sleek, modern seating area by the window. "Why don't we sit down and see what we can work out?"

Mr. Callahan hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. "Of course. I assume you're handling negotiations on Mr. Mark's behalf?"

Brainless Girl's smirk widened. "Oh, you'll find out soon enough."

Mist Low sighed dramatically, already sensing that this was about to be both very entertaining and very chaotic.

---

The seating area was a picture of quiet opulence—deep velvet sofas, a glass coffee table, and a fireplace built into the wall, its flickering embers casting a soft glow across the room. Mr. Callahan retrieved a sleek black tablet from his folder, placing it on the table between them. The screen flickered to life, displaying a neatly organized interface with the estate's listing details, past ownership records, and the current competing offers.

He steepled his fingers, his expression composed. "Now, before we proceed, I'd like to clarify a few things. The Mirage Estate is currently valued at—"

Brainless Girl raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "We're not interested in listing prices." She leaned back against the plush cushions, crossing one leg over the other. "Tell me something useful."

Mr. Callahan's professional smile faltered for the briefest moment before he recovered. "Very well," he said smoothly. "The highest competing bid currently stands at 8.7 million. Your current offer is 8.4 million. The owner has indicated that they are inclined to accept the higher bid unless a more… compelling reason is presented."

Brainless Girl tapped her fingers against the armrest in thought. "And who exactly is this other buyer?"

Mr. Callahan's expression didn't change. "I'm afraid I can't disclose that information."

Brainless Girl smirked. "You mean you won't disclose that information."

Mist Low, watching from the other side of the room, let out a quiet chuckle.

Mark, who had remained silent up until now, finally spoke. His voice was calm, measured. "Tell us about the owner. What are they looking for in a buyer?"

Mr. Callahan glanced at him, then gave a slow nod. "The seller is primarily concerned with securing a clean transaction. They want a buyer who can guarantee swift payment and minimal complications."

Brainless Girl's grin widened. "Perfect. That means we don't even need to outbid the competition—just prove we're the better deal."

Mr. Callahan's polite smile didn't waver, but something in his eyes sharpened. "Perhaps. But the owner is also a businessman. Numbers matter."

Brainless Girl's fingers stilled. Then, slowly, her smirk returned. "Then let's make them matter less."

Mark simply nodded. "Do it."

And with that, the game began.