Chapter 24, True Greed Part 1

In a secluded chamber, its walls adorned with shadows cast by the flickering glow of a mana lamp, a man sat hunched over his desk.

The room seemed heavy with his frustration, the air taut with unspoken anger. His voice pierced the silence like a blade: "Damn it! Those filthy commoners managed to pay off their loans! With my interest rates, they should have been buried in debt for generations, enslaved to me without a shred of hope. And now—now my income is gone, evaporated like smoke! What am I supposed to do?" His words echoed, laden with venom and disbelief.

Standing nearby, his butler maintained his composure, though his grip on the ledger in his hand tightened slightly. "Lord Henry," he began with measured calm, "the commoners you speak of took loans from the Bank of Apollo. Their rates are considerably lower, allowing them to pay off their debts with far greater ease."

The butler's tone was deliberate, his words chosen with care to avoid fanning the flames of his master's fury. But the impact was unavoidable. For a moment, Lord Henry froze, his back rigid and his fingers drumming against the desk's polished surface. His face betrayed a fleeting semblance of calm, an eerie lull in the storm. Then, like a dam bursting under relentless pressure, his rage erupted anew.

With a sudden movement, he rose from his chair, towering over the room like a tempest unleashed. His hand shot out and seized the mana lamp from the edge of the desk, its light dancing in his furious grasp. "Do they think they can outwit me? Mock me? I'll show them!" he roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of the chamber.

In one violent motion, he hurled the lamp against the stone wall. It collided with an earsplitting crash, the mana stone within shattering into fragments that scattered like embers extinguished too soon. Shards of glass sprayed across the room, catching the dim light as they spiraled through the air.

Amid the chaos, one jagged shard hurtled toward the butler. He instinctively tilted his head to avoid the trajectory, but not entirely unscathed—the glass nicked the side of his face, carving a thin line that glistened with blood. He stiffened, his stance unwavering even as pain stung his flesh. The cut was shallow, but the weight of the moment was far deeper, an unspoken acknowledgment of his master's destructive wrath.

Lord Henry's labored breathing filled the room as he stood amid the wreckage, his fury unabated. The butler, ever composed, remained silent, the crimson streak on his cheek standing as a quiet testament to the chaos he had endured. The shattered lamp and scattered debris lay as evidence of a tempest neither man could forget.

After taking a few steadying breaths, Lord Henry's fury simmered into a cold, calculated resolve. The shattered remnants of the mana lamp still glittered on the floor, but his focus had shifted entirely. His mind raced with schemes and strategies, each more ruthless than the last, until a plan began to form—a plan to bring the mighty Bank of Apollo to its knees and to destroy the man who dared stand in his way. 

Henry turned to his butler, who still stood stoic despite the crimson line carved across his cheek. The butler's eyes revealed no emotion, though years of service had taught him to anticipate the worst in moments like these. "Go," Henry commanded, his voice sharp and clipped. "Summon my associates. All of them. Tell them the situation demands immediate attention."

The butler gave a slight bow, masking the unease flickering in his gaze. "At once, my lord." He left the room swiftly, his polished shoes barely making a sound against the marble floor. As the butler departed, Henry allowed himself a moment of solitude.

He moved to the window once more, staring down at the city below—the bustling streets, the gleaming towers, the people who had dared defy him. His associates were no strangers to greed; they were parasites like him, thriving on the desperation and toil of the lower classes.

Each was skilled in their own right: an unscrupulous financier, a cunning politician, a ruthless enforcer. Together, they would form a force strong enough to crush the Bank of Apollo and ruin its founder.

By the time his associates arrived, the chamber was prepared for war. Henry's desk was cleared except for a detailed layout of the city, with key locations circled in bold ink that had to destroy me matter the cost.

The air was thick with anticipation, the flicker of a newly lit mana lamp casting ominous shadows on the faces of those gathered.

The group seated themselves, exchanging glances laden with curiosity and greed. Henry wasted no time. He stood, his presence commanding the room as he outlined his plan. "Gentlemen," he began, his voice steady but fierce, "we face an adversary unlike any other. The Bank of Apollo has disrupted the natural order, empowered those who should remain powerless, and dared to challenge my domain. But this is not the end—it is merely the beginning."

Lord Henry's finger glided over the map spread across the desk, pausing at key points marked in bold ink. His eyes were sharp with intent, and his voice carried a weight of cold determination as he declared, "We will dismantle their operations, piece by piece. First, their supply chains—without resources, they will begin to buckle.

Then, their manufacturing facilities—crippling production will leave their systems vulnerable. Finally, we will bring down the bank itself, crushing the very foundation of their power. And as for the man behind it all…" His expression twisted into a sinister sneer. "We will strip him of everything. Not just his wealth, but his dignity, his name, his very existence—until he suffers a fate worse than the filthy commoners he sought to empower."

Around him, his trusted associates exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of greed and ruthless ambition. Henry's words ignited something dark in each of them, feeding their shared disdain for the man and the institution that had dared to challenge their supremacy.

The financier, a wiry man with sharp features, leaned forward, his eyes glinting with malice. "I can spread rumors among the workers, stir unrest in their ranks. If we manipulate their labor force strategically, it will create panic and instability. Their assets will start to plummet as confidence erodes."

A thin smile tugged at Henry's lips. "Good. Let them turn against the system they depend on—it will hasten their collapse."

Next to speak was the politician, his tone laced with smug confidence. "I'll ensure legislation works in our favor. I've already made contacts with key officials who owe me favors. By introducing targeted trade barriers and supply restrictions, I can choke off the Bank of Apollo's lifelines. Their operations will grind to a halt."

Henry nodded approvingly. "Excellent. Cut them off at the knees and watch them stumble."

Finally, the enforcer, a hulking figure with a voice like gravel, leaned in. His presence alone commanded attention, and his words carried an air of calculated menace. "Say the word, and I'll take care of their security. Without trust, no bank can survive. One well-placed incident, a breach of their supposed invulnerability, and their customers will scatter like rats abandoning a sinking ship."

Henry's smile widened, though it was devoid of warmth. "Do it. Let them believe their walls are made of paper. Fear is a powerful tool—let's make it work in our favor."

The room buzzed with quiet anticipation as the plan took shape. Each man envisioned the roles they would play in the downfall of their common enemy, their minds already working through the steps needed to execute their parts flawlessly. For Henry, this was more than a scheme—it was an act of retribution, a calculated strike that would reaffirm his dominance and destroy the one man who had dared to defy him.

Henry smiled—a cold, calculating smile that sent chills down the spines of even his most hardened allies. "Excellent. We'll strike swiftly and decisively. And when the dust settles, we will not only reclaim what's rightfully ours but ensure that no one dares to challenge us again."

The meeting lasted deep into the night, the room filled with whispers of treachery and power plays. By the time the associates departed, each armed with their tasks, Henry stood alone once more, gazing at the map with satisfaction. The Bank of Apollo might have given the commoners a glimmer of hope, but Henry vowed to extinguish it entirely—no matter the cost.