Foundation The Architect

Episode 6

Why is she calling me now?

"Connect the call, Victor," I instructed.

A woman's voice, cold, calm, yet full of authority, came through the car's audio system.

"Mr. Collins? Or should I call you Architect?"

I held my breath for a moment. "How did you get this number, Miss Vance?"

"Let's just say we share a past enemy," Selena replied. "I just saw the Nexus Gateway transaction ping my monitoring system. Very bold. But if you truly want to dismantle Dione Infra, you'll need more than just port land. You need our technology."

I fell silent, processing the information. Selena Vance wasn't just anyone. She was known as the 'Ice Queen' of the tech industry. If she was offering collaboration, the stakes had just escalated to a global level.

"What do you want, Selena?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.

"A meeting. Tonight. At a location unknown to both Elias Kane and Clara Dione. Are you in?"

I glanced at Victor, who gave a slight nod, signaling that this was a valid opportunity.

"Send the location," I said firmly. "I'll be there."

The call disconnected. I stared at the tablet screen showing Dione Infra's stock graph, which was starting to fluctuate slightly as news of the Nexus Gateway began to leak to major brokers.

"This game just got more intense, Victor," I muttered.

"And you are the director of it all, Master H," Victor replied calmly.

I stared straight ahead, toward the sunset over the city skyline. The old foundation had crumbled, and upon the rubble of Clara's betrayal, I was beginning to build a tower that would rise higher than anything she could ever imagine.

Every brick was a plan, every bit of mortar was data, and every life I risked was the cost of a hidden truth.

Clara Dione would soon realize that her betrayal wasn't the end of Henry Collins, but rather the beginning of her own systematic destruction. And when that moment arrived, there wouldn't be enough tears in the world to extinguish the fire she had just lit herself.

"Victor, move a little faster," I instructed. "The future doesn't like to wait."

The car sped away, leaving the small lobby and Clara's angry shouts behind, moving toward the darkness where the real strategy had just begun.

***

"Victor, are you sure Michael will listen to me after the commotion in the lobby the other day?" I asked, looking out the window of the speeding car as it cut through the streets toward the outskirts of the city.

"Michael is a man who worships numbers more than rumors, Master H. He might be cynical, but he's not stupid. He knows anyone who can shell out sixty million dollars cash for swamp land isn't just some crazy person looking for attention," Victor replied, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

"He thinks I'm lucky. Or maybe he thinks I'm just borrowing someone's big name," I muttered, straightening the sleeve of my silk shirt.

"That's why today is so important. You're not just going to show your wealth, but the brains behind it. The elite at this golf club need proof that you're a player, not just a pawn."

"And Selena Vance?" I asked, recalling the phone conversation that had ended just a few days prior. "She didn't contact me again after I refused to give more details over the phone?"

"She's waiting, sir. Selena Vance is the type to let her opponent make the first move. But she's monitoring you. I'm sure her agents are around this golf club today."

"Good. The more eyes, the better the show," I said quietly.

Our car slowed as we entered the large iron gate with intricate carvings. The vast green expanse of the lawn stretched out before us, trimmed with military precision. This was Pine Crest, the most exclusive golf club in the region. A place where economic policy was often decided between tee-off shots.

"We've arrived, Master H," Victor said, stopping the car directly in front of the colonial-style club lobby.

A valet attendant approached with a doubtful expression, noting our luxury car lacked the special member license plate. I stepped out, feeling the warm morning sunlight.

"Good morning, sir. Excuse me, are you a guest of one of our members?" the attendant asked politely but probing.

"Michael," I said shortly. "He's on the eighteenth hole, isn't he?"

"That's correct, Mr. Michael is finishing his session. But he didn't mention having any guests—"

"Just tell him, 'The Architect of Nexus Gateway' wants to say hello," I cut him off, walking past the attendant without waiting for a reply.

I walked along the path surrounded by neatly arranged rose gardens. In the distance, I saw a group of middle-aged men wearing expensive polo shirts, laughing loudly near the final green. In the middle of them, Michael stood with a golf club in his hand, looking like a king in his own domain.

"Great shot, Michael! You're really not giving us a break today," shouted one of the men, a real estate investor named David whom I recognized from Victor's intelligence reports.

"Just luck, David. Like that guy named Henry Collins who bought the land by the port," Michael replied in a dismissive tone loud enough for me to hear.

I stopped right at the edge of the green, letting my shadow fall across the grass. "Luck is a term used by those unable to see patterns, Michael."

The laughter in the group stopped instantly. Michael turned, squinting his eyes against the sun's glare. As he recognized me, a cynical smile spread across his flushed face.

"Look who it is," Michael said, resting his golf club on his shoulder. "The parasite who just stumbled upon buried treasure. Henry Collins, right?"

"Mr. Collins to you, Michael," I replied calmly, stepping closer.

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here uninvited, Henry," David said in a threatening tone. "This isn't some old office lobby where you can shout demands."

"I'm here to talk business, not make friends," I retorted, looking directly at Michael.

Michael laughed, a sound that resembled sandpaper rubbing. "Business? You just spent sixty million dollars on land where nothing can be built without infrastructure permits from Dione Infra. You call that business? I call that financial suicide."

"That's because you see that lot as just land, Michael. I see it as the clean energy transmission hub for the entire northern district," I said, folding my arms across my chest.

"Clean energy? Don't make me laugh. Government regulations on that won't come out for another five years. You'll go bankrupt from property taxes before the first pole is even installed," Michael spat to the side, showing his disgust.

"Three months," I said firmly.

"What?" Michael frowned.

"The regulation will be passed in three months. I've calculated the policy shift in the city council. And when it happens, the value of Nexus Gateway will increase sevenfold. Dione Infra knows that, which is why Clara is so desperate."

Michael fell silent for a moment, staring at me with a probing look. "You think you're smarter than the analysts at my real estate firm?"

"I know I am," I replied without hesitation.

"Alright, Henry. If you're so confident in your analysis, how about we make a little wager?" Michael stepped forward, challenging me.

"I'm listening," I said.

"See that empty lot across the hill? Sector B-12. A lot of people are saying it will be the new commercial area. Michael Corp plans to break ground there next week. What's your analysis?" Michael smiled, confident he had trapped me.

I looked toward the hill he pointed at, though I didn't need to see it. I had memorized the entire cadastral map of this region in my head three nights ago.

"Don't do it, Michael," I said flatly.

"Why? Afraid your analysis is wrong?" David challenged, laughing.

"Sector B-12 is an unstable geological fault line zone. Furthermore, there's a planned construction of a main water pipeline that will cut through the land right in the middle within the next two years. Building anything there means you'll face lawsuits from environmental services and foundation reinforcement costs that will eat up your entire profit margin."

Michael's smile faded slightly. "That's just speculation. That water pipeline hasn't ever been publicly announced."

"Because the decision was just made in a closed-door water board meeting last night at eight o'clock. Victor, hand me the tablet," I said without turning around.

Victor, who had apparently appeared beside me without my notice, handed me a digital tablet. I swiped through some data and showed it to Michael.

"This is the draft of the new city infrastructure master plan. Notice the blue line cutting through Sector B-12. And pay attention to the seismic report on the next page," I explained while swiping the screen.

Michael took the tablet roughly. He read it quickly, his eyes moving back and forth with increasing speed. David and the other men leaned in to look, and a tense silence immediately enveloped the group.

"This... this is classified data," Michael muttered, his voice trembling slightly.

"It's not classified data for those who know how to read the patterns of capital movement and policy, Michael. You're too busy playing golf while the world changes beneath your feet," I said, taking back my tablet.

"How did you get this?" David asked in a tone that now sounded more like fear than anger.

"I am The Architect. I don't just follow the market, I design it," I replied coldly.

Michael took a long breath, trying to calm himself down. He looked back at me, but this time there was no longer any disdain in his eyes. All that remained was forced respect and deep curiosity.

"So, what's your real offer, Henry?"