The Beggar in the Lobby Was the Supreme King

Chapter 079

As the moon hung high over the sprawling landscape of Valeridge, the night air grew crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the distant hum of the city's neon pulse. Ethan Smith stood by the window of the Azure Villa, his gaze fixed on the shimmering lights of the Capital of Valeridge. He turned to Catherine Jones, who stood poised and ready in the shadows of the room. With a brief, silent nod to Iris Smith, the two slipped out into the darkness, their movements fluid and practiced, leaving behind the temporary sanctuary of their home.

Their destination was the North Club, a high-stakes establishment known more for its underground dealings than its public face. There, amidst the smell of expensive tobacco and the clinking of crystal, Ethan met with Alexandra Pacino.

"Supreme King," Alexandra Pacino greeted him, her voice a low murmur that barely carried over the ambient noise of the club's ventilation. "I have already embedded our agents inside. It won't be long now. We are positioned to extract the ledger and the operational files."

Ethan shared a knowing look with her. There was a certain irony in the situation—the Supreme King of the Hall of Supreme and his elite Guard of the Earth, figures who moved the foundations of international power, were now engaged in what appeared to be a common burglary.

"Very well," Ethan said, his tone carrying a hint of wry amusement. "We shall wait here. Let the shadows do their work."

The clock struck 8:00 PM. The atmosphere in the city seemed to tighten, a silent tension building in the humid air. Suddenly, two figures shrouded in tactical black gear scaled the perimeter wall of the club, moving with the eerie silence of predatory cats. They carried a reinforced metallic case between them. Alexandra Pacino recognized them instantly as members of the Guards of Supreme.

"Is the objective secured?" she asked as they approached the rendezvous point.

"Supreme King, Guard of the Earth," one of the elite soldiers reported, his breath hitching slightly from the adrenaline. "The situation shifted rapidly. The Hall of Darknight began a frantic mobilization to relocate their primary intelligence. The security around the archives has been tripled. They are on high alert."

Catherine Jones's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. Her hand rested instinctively on the hilt of her concealed blade. "Master, we should stop this charade. Give the word, and I will lead a frontal assault. We can burn through their defenses and seize the data by force."

With Ethan's current level of cultivation, a direct assault would indeed be trivial, but it would be loud. It would alert the Eagleeye Department and potentially force the hand of Governor Stinson before the trap was fully set.

"Patience, Catherine," Ethan said, raising a hand to still her. "A loud victory is often a messy one. Let us see where the trail leads. Information is like water; it always seeks the lowest point."

Moments later, the heavy iron gates of the North Club groaned open. Two men in dark suits emerged, struggling with the weight of a massive, industrial-grade iron chest. They loaded it into the back of an unmarked delivery van with a heavy thud that echoed in the quiet street.

"That's the one," the scout confirmed.

"Alexandra," Ethan commanded, his voice turning cold and professional. "We split up. You and your team maintain a suffocating watch on the North Club. Ensure this isn't a feint. If they are playing a shell game, I want to know which shell hides the pea. Catherine and I will tail the transport."

The van pulled away, its tires screeching softly on the asphalt. Ethan and Catherine followed at a discreet distance, their vehicle a mere shadow in the rearview mirror. They tracked the transport as it wound its way out of the Capital of Valeridge, passing through the outskirts until they reached the quiet, unsuspecting town of Evermist Town.

The van finally came to a halt in front of a sprawling complex: the Judson Morris Martial Arts Academy.

Two men jumped out and began unloading the chest. They were met by four individuals who radiated a distinct martial pressure. Even from several hundred yards away, Ethan's heightened senses could feel the density of their internal energy. These were not mere street thugs; they were seasoned killers.

"Principal Morris," one of the couriers said, his voice taut with gravity. "This data is the lifeblood of our organization. It contains the legacy of the Darkshadow. You are to guard it with your life. If a single page is compromised, the King Shadow will demand your head as penance."

The men exchanged grim nods. The couriers vanished back into the night, leaving the principal and his elite guards to carry the heavy burden into a secure, windowless warehouse deep within the campus.

Ethan and Catherine moved like ghosts, ghosting over the high perimeter walls. They shadowed Judson Morris into the depths of the facility, watching as he placed the chest in a reinforced vault.

"Leave it here," Morris ordered his subordinates. "From this moment on, this sector is off-limits. I want no one near this door."

The heavy steel door was slammed shut and locked with a series of mechanical thuds. Once the hallway was clear, Ethan stepped out of the shadows.

"Open it," he whispered.

Catherine produced a specialized tension tool. With a flick of her wrist and a delicate touch that spoke of years of espionage, the lock clicked open in seconds.

"Guard the entrance," Ethan said. "I want to see what our friends are so desperate to hide."

Inside the vault, the iron chest sat like a silent tomb. It was protected by a complex electronic-mechanical hybrid lock. To an amateur, it was an impassable barrier; to Ethan, who had spent years cracking the most secure vaults in the world during his time abroad, it was a puzzle. He closed his eyes, listening to the tumblers fall, feeling the minute vibrations in the metal. Three minutes later, the lid hissed open.

Inside lay a treasure trove of incriminating evidence. Despite the gloom, Ethan's vision was crystal clear. He scanned the documents: a comprehensive directory of the Darkshadow's local chapters across the province, membership rosters, and, most importantly, a detailed ledger of assassination contracts.

There were names of high-ranking officials, business rivals of the Clifford family, and a specific sub-ledger detailing 'contributions' to the Marini family.

At the bottom of the chest sat a small, ornate box made of a strange, non-reflective alloy. Ethan opened it to find a single, jet-black sphere, no larger than a marble. It felt unnaturally heavy, as if it possessed its own gravitational pull. Though its purpose was a mystery, Ethan knew that anything held in such high regard by the Hall of Darknight was worth taking. He swept the files and the box into a prepared satchel.

"Master, someone is coming," Catherine's voice hissed through the doorway.

Ethan worked with lightning speed, resetting the chest and closing the vault door. Catherine relocked the mechanism just as footsteps echoed at the end of the long corridor. They vanished into the rafters, blending into the darkness.

"By order of Principal Morris, this door gets three additional deadbolts," a guard announced, accompanied by a technician. "Only the Principal and two directors can authorize entry. Anyone else found here is to be executed on sight."

Under the cover of the deepening night, Ethan and Catherine made their exit, exfiltrating the campus as silently as they had arrived. They drove straight to the headquarters of the Supreme Security Company to meet with Alexandra Pacino.

"Did you succeed, Supreme King?" Alexandra asked, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the satchel.

"The hunt was fruitful," Ethan replied with a cold smile.

He emptied the bag onto a table. Alexandra began sorting through the chaos of papers. "Ethan," she said, looking up in awe. "These files... they don't just prove the Clifford family's guilt. They map out the entire Darkshadow network in Valeridge. We can dismantle their entire infrastructure in a single night."

"Not yet," Ethan cautioned. "We need to coordinate. I want our local branches to monitor every single hideout mentioned here. Once we are ready, we will feed the 'copies' to the local authorities simultaneously. We will overwhelm the system so that no one—not even Tim Burns—can provide cover for them."

He then pulled the black iron sphere from his pocket. He had been turning it over in his fingers, sensing a hidden complexity.

"And what is this?" Alexandra asked, leaning in.

"A souvenir from the Hall of Darknight," Ethan said. He drew the Copper Sword, the blade shimmering with an ethereal light. He attempted to shave a sliver off the sphere to test its composition. To his profound astonishment, the divine blade—which could slice through reinforced steel like butter—failed to leave even a microscopic scratch on the black orb.

"Interesting," Ethan mused, his curiosity piqued. "A material that defies the Copper Sword. I shall keep this close."

"What is the next phase of the plan?" Catherine asked, her voice eager for the coming conflict.

Ethan looked at the ledgers of the Marini family. "Now, we let the trap spring. We have been playing the victim for long enough. It is time for the Supreme King to demand an accounting."

He turned to Alexandra. "Tell Sydney Harvey and Ron Sherock to continue their 'compliance.' I want them to initiate the takeover of the North Club's peripheral assets. If Duke Marini intervenes, they are to retreat—but they must ensure he does it publicly, and they must record every interaction."

"And if he doesn't intervene?" Alexandra asked.

Ethan's smile was razor-sharp. "Then we let the Hayes family, the Sherock family, and the Harvey family devour the Clifford's remaining empire whole. Either way, the Marini family is finished. They just don't know it yet."

The counter-offensive had begun. While the Clifford family celebrated their 'victory' in the Elysian Restaurant, the ground beneath them was already turning to ash.