The asphalt outside Prymus Company felt as though it were vibrating under the immense pressure of the unfolding drama. Guy Clifford, the high-ranking official who oversaw the entirety of the Bank of Duskhaven’s regional revenue and taxation, stood trembling in his polished oxfords. He was a man accustomed to the fearful gazes of billionaire CEOs and corrupt politicians, yet here he was, sweat beads rolling down his temples as he maintained a perfect, painful ninety-degree bow before Dominic Mylod.
" Guy has arrived far too late," the Director stammered, his voice cracked with a terror that made his very marrow ache. "I beg for your mercy, Lord! Please, forgive my tardiness!"
The three enforcement officers, led by the thick-necked Keegan Pratt, stared with eyes that were dinner-plate wide
