The Beggar in the Lobby Was the Supreme King

Chapter 050

The strategic foresight possessed by Kevin Rogers was, in its own way, a testament to a lifetime of cutthroat survival in the high-stakes corridors of the Capital of Valeridge. He was a man who understood that when a structure is compromised, the only way to save the foundation is to purge the evidence with absolute finality. Under the flickering amber glow of the study’s lanterns, his face was a mask of grim determination.

"Seal it," he commanded, his voice a rasping whisper that brooked no argument.

In a frantic, coordinated effort, a heavy iron safe—containing the most incriminating ledgers of the Rogers family—was lashed to a massive decorative granite block. It took four of his strongest house guards to haul the weight across the manicured lawns to the center of the estate’s sprawling lotus pond. With a dull, heavy splash that seemed to echo like a death knell in the silent night, the safe vanished beneath the dark water, sinking deep into the thick, suffocating layers of silt and mud at the bottom.

Kevin Rogers didn't waste time on sentiment. He didn't even pack a suitcase. He simply signaled to Felix Rogers and Evan Aurelio to prepare the motorcade. "If we leave now, we can be across the state line of Veridian by dawn. We regroup in the north, tap into the offshore reserves, and wait for the dust to settle."

The servants had already been dismissed with a handful of cash and a threat of silence. As Kevin stepped over the threshold of his ancestral home, he paused for a fleeting second, his gaze lingering on the grand portraits of his predecessors. "We will return," he muttered, more to convince himself than anyone else. "This is a temporary setback. I will see Ethan Smith's head on a spike before I am finished."

Evan Aurelio gripped his shoulder, his eyes like polished obsidian in the dark. "Master, the window is closing. My scouts report that Tim Burns and his mechanized units have already secured the Vanguard Club. They are moving with a speed that defies logic. We must vanish into the shadows now."

Felix Rogers bit his lip, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the car door. The loss of his inheritance and the physical toll of his recent "accident" had left him a hollow shell of his former arrogant self. "Why is this happening? Tomorrow was supposed to be the day we crushed them. How did the heavens turn against us so quickly?"

But the heavens weren't the ones moving against them. As the lead engine of the Rogers' motorcade roared to life, the night was suddenly pierced by the blinding white glare of military-grade floodlights. Four armored transport vehicles swept around the bend of the driveway, their tires screeching on the gravel as they performed a perfect tactical envelopment.

Two hundred soldiers from the Guards of Supreme, their rifles raised and their faces obscured by ballistic masks, swarmed the courtyard. The exit was blocked; the trap was sprung.

Tim Burns stepped out of the lead vehicle, his combat boots thudding rhythmically on the stone. He adjusted his collar, his eyes cold as he surveyed the line of cars. "Kevin Rogers," he called out, his voice amplified by the chilling stillness of the estate. "Going somewhere? It’s a bit late for a family vacation, don't you think?"

Kevin felt a wave of nausea. He had drastically underestimated the momentum of the Supreme King. He had expected red tape, bureaucracy, and legal stalling. Instead, he had been met with a lightning strike.

Suppressing the tremor in his hands, Kevin forced a thin, oily smile onto his face. "Officer Burns. To what do I owe the pleasure of this... aggressive late-night visit? My son has been through a traumatic ordeal, as you know. I was merely taking my family to a private retreat to facilitate his recovery."

Tim Burns let out a short, bark-like laugh. "A retreat? Does your retreat usually involve the sponsorship of the Blood Mafia? We’ve just come from the Vanguard Club, Kevin. Your instructor, Paul Sloan, was quite chatty before he met his end. We know about the funding. We know about the hit lists."

The blood drained from Kevin’s face, leaving him a ghastly shade of gray. The name of the Vanguard Club being spoken in this context was the final nail.

"I... I have no idea what you're talking about," Kevin stammered, his legal training failing him. "If Sloan was involved in criminal activity, he did so without the knowledge of the the Rogers family. I demand to see a warrant! You cannot detain an elite citizen of the Capital of Valeridge on hearsay!"

"It isn't hearsay when we have the bank transfers," Tim Burns countered, taking a step forward. "Every soul in this villa is coming with me for questioning. If you resist, I’ve been authorized to use whatever force is necessary to ensure the security of Solinar. Now, tell your men to drop their weapons, or this garden will become a graveyard."

Kevin Rogers looked at the sea of rifle barrels pointed at his chest. He was a businessman, not a martyr. He slowly raised his hands, his spirit finally breaking. "Fine. We will cooperate. But mark my words, Burns, you will regret this."

However, just as the soldiers moved in to secure the prisoners, the air pressure in the courtyard seemed to shift. Evan Aurelio, who had been standing silently in the shadow of the garage, moved with a speed that was almost supernatural.

But he didn't move toward the soldiers.

In a shocking display of betrayal, Evan Aurelio drew a concealed blade and drove it straight into Kevin Rogers' back, the steel piercing the patriarch's heart with clinical precision.

"Father!" Felix screamed, but his voice was cut short as Evan’s hand swept across his throat in a lethal arc.

Kevin turned, his eyes bulging with horror and confusion. "Evan... why?"

Evan Aurelio’s face remained a mask of cold indifference. "The Blood Mafia headquarters does not tolerate failure, Kevin. And more importantly, the Master cannot allow a loose thread like you to talk to the authorities. You were a useful tool, but tools that break are discarded."

"Kill him!" Tim Burns roared, drawing his sidearm.

Evan Aurelio let out a piercing whistle. "Kill them all! Break out!"

The few remaining hardcore assassins hidden among the Rogers' house guards pulled weapons, and the courtyard erupted into a chaotic, close-quarters skirmish. Tim Burns engaged Evan Aurelio in a frantic duel, the officer's heavy military saber clashing against the assassin's light, wicked blade.

For twenty minutes, the courtyard was a whirlwind of steel and gunfire. Tim Burns, a half-step Supreme Master, found himself pushed to his absolute limit. Evan Aurelio fought with a frenzied, suicidal intensity, his eyes glowing like golden lamps in the dark.

"How?" Evan hissed, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he parried a strike from Tim. "How can a mere provincial officer have this level of inner power?"

"I've been practicing," Tim grunted, his muscles bulging as he forced Evan back against a stone pillar.

Suddenly, a small, silver object whistled through the air from the darkness beyond the floodlights. It was a Soul Nail, accurately striking Evan in the shoulder and disrupting his internal energy flow. He stumbled, his guard dropping for a fraction of a second.

Tim Burns seized the opportunity. He swung his blade in a brutal, horizontal arc, severing Evan’s right arm at the shoulder. With a powerful front kick, he sent the assassin sprawling into the dirt. Before Evan could recover, Tim brought the pommel of his sword down on the man's knees, the sound of shattering bone echoing through the garden.

"Secure him!" Tim commanded, his voice raw. "I want him alive. He’s our only link to the national headquarters."

As the soldiers bound the mangled Evan Aurelio and loaded the bodies of the Rogers family into a transport, the chaos began to subside. Tim Burns wiped the sweat and blood from his brow and turned to see Ethan Smith and Catherine Jones emerging from the shadows.

"The villa is clear," Ethan said, his voice as calm as a still lake. "But the fireplace was a distraction. They didn't burn everything."

Tim Burns sighed, looking at the empty study. "We’ve searched the house, Ethan. The files are gone. Kevin was thorough before he was silenced. Without the primary ledgers, the Rogers' corporate allies might still find a way to squirm out of the net."

Ethan didn't answer. Instead, he walked toward the lotus pond. He stood at the water's edge, his eyes tracing the ripples on the surface. "The water is unusually turbid here, Tim. Look at the mud stirred up near the center. In a garden this well-maintained, that doesn't happen by accident."

Tim Burns’ eyes widened. He slapped his forehead in realization. "The pond! Of course! They didn't burn them—they drowned them!"

At Tim's command, a squad of soldiers stripped off their tactical vests and dived into the frigid water. Within minutes, a shout of triumph echoed from the center of the pond. They hauled the heavy iron safe onto the grass, the granite block still attached.

Tim Burns looked at the dripping safe, then at Ethan Smith. The young man's ability to read a scene was nothing short of terrifying. "You have the mind of a high-level strategist, Ethan. Most men would have been satisfied with the arrest. You stayed focused on the objective."

The officer paused, looking at Ethan with a newfound respect that bordered on awe. "I’m going to recommend you for a commission, you know. With your intellect and your connection to the Hall of Supreme, you could be a Colonel within two years. You're wasted as a private citizen."

Ethan looked back at the Azure Villa, thinking of Iris and the peaceful life he was trying to build for his sisters. He shook his head slowly. "I appreciate the offer, Tim. But I have enough titles. Just keep tonight’s events out of the papers. My sister worries when I stay out late, and I'd rather she think I was just out for a long walk."

As the first light of dawn began to gray the horizon, Ethan and Catherine walked away from the ruined estate. The the Rogers family was no more, the Blood Mafia’s local branch was decapitated, and the Mosaic Corporation stood unopposed. The Supreme King had reclaimed his city.