Even as the profound shock of the displayed wealth reverberated through the grand hall, Vincent Percy found his eyes involuntarily drawn to Issac Monroe. A flicker of profound bewilderment, a trace of something akin to genuine awe, passed through his gaze. The meticulously cultivated composure of a man who had always been at the pinnacle of his world was momentarily fractured. What, in the name of all that is powerful, is this man's true identity? he pondered, his mind racing through a dizzying array of possibilities. Why would the Four Grandmaster Protectors, revered figures of such immense martial power and standing, exhibit such profound deference, such palpable apprehension in his presence? The thought was jarring, unsettling. He could only conjure two plausible scenarios: perhaps Issa
