Chapter 42
The border between the South River and North River Provinces was a desolate stretch of cracked asphalt and sun-bleached grass. Cody Rock stood in the shadow of a rusted water tower, the encrypted phone pressed to his ear. The wind whipped his messy hair, but his eyes remained fixed on the horizon, where the "Vulture" had last been sighted.
"Where are you right now?" Henry Shawn—the Black Ghost—asked from the other end of the line.
"I'm on the border, Boss. I've found a few feathers the Vulture dropped. I'm close. I can feel it in my gut," Cody replied, his voice raspy from the road dust.
"Divert your path," Henry commanded. "Go to South River City. Find Thorne, the retired Team B veteran. He has referred a candidate for the Division 1 Freelance Reserve. You need to check him out personally."
Cody's grip on the phone tightened. A muscle in his jaw twitched. "A backup member for Team A? Boss, with all due respect, I'm in the middle of a high-tier manhunt. The Vulture is a Body Refining Master. If I leave now, he vanishes into the North River wilderness. Do you have any specific information on this recruit that justifies letting an S-class criminal slip away?"
"The recruit is twenty-one years old," Henry's voice was uncharacteristically steady. "And Michael Fredrick says he's already a Pseudo-Body Refining Peak Master. He's currently holding the Golden Dragon."
Cody let out a sharp, incredulous whistle. "A peak master at twenty-one? Boss, that's either a once-in-a-century miracle or a very expensive lie. Either way, the Vulture won't wait. If I leave the trail now, it'll take me weeks to pick it up again."
Cody paused, calculating the distance. "Look, Boss, if this Ethan McCain is the real deal, he's not going anywhere. He's a student, right? He's tied to that city. I'm going to finish this. I'll pin the Vulture first. I estimate it'll take me about two weeks, maybe a month if he plays dirty. I'll head to South River City the moment the Vulture is in a cage. I'll check out your 'wonder kid' then."
Henry Shawn sighed, but he knew Cody was right. You didn't pull a hound off a fresh scent for a theory. "Fine. Catch the bird first. But the moment he's down, you're on the first flight to the South River. Thorne will give you the full brief when you arrive. Stay safe, Cody."
"Got it, Boss," Cody said, hanging up. He looked toward the jagged peaks of the North River Province, his eyes turning cold. The kid could wait. The hunt couldn't.
While the phantom operatives of the nation were debating his potential, Ethan McCain was dealing with a much more terrifying force: a lecture on Macroeconomics at South River University (SRU).
He sat in the back row, slouched in a wooden chair that creaked every time he moved. Despite the trillions sitting in his offshore accounts and the high-end luxury suites at his disposal, Ethan still wore his faded, unbranded hoodie and worn-out sneakers. To the rest of the world, he was still the scholarship kid who barely scraped by.
He preferred it this way. If he came to school in a bespoke suit, the questions would never end.
The professor's voice was a monotonous drone, discussing the intricacies of fiscal policy, but Ethan's mind was elsewhere. He was focused on the subtle shift in the air—the way his senses had sharpened since reaching the Pseudo-Body Refining Peak. He could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights and the rapid heartbeat of the girl sitting three rows down who kept glancing back at him.
Suddenly, the door to the lecture hall creaked open. The professor stopped mid-sentence.
Julian walked in, looking slightly haggard but wearing a smirk that radiated pure arrogance. He scanned the room until his eyes locked onto Ethan.
The hushed whispers began instantly. Julian had been in police custody for days following the "unfortunate" incident involving Leo's kidnapping. Most of the campus had assumed Julian was finished, but here he was, walking free. The charges had been dropped—likely due to a combination of missing evidence and the heavy-handed influence of his family's connections.
Julian took a seat a few rows ahead of Ethan, purposefully kicking a chair out of his way. He leaned back and mouthed three words toward Ethan: "I'm back, loser."
Ethan didn't blink. To Julian, Ethan was still the same "poor trash" he could step on. Julian had no idea that the man he was mocking could now crush him with a single hand, or that Ethan's financial reach now made Julian's "rich" family look like they were playing with pocket change.
Ethan turned his gaze back to his notebook, but he wasn't taking notes on economics. He was calculating. Julian being out meant the local underworld would likely become restless again. It was a distraction he didn't need, but it was also an opportunity to test his influence without revealing his full hand.
Two weeks, he thought, recalling his earlier conversation with Thorne Sr. about the NSB. I have about two weeks of peace before the 'real' world comes knocking on my door. I need to use this time to stabilize the businesses Thorne gave me and strive to get the 2000 system points needed to upgrade my body and mind to the next stage.
Black Global Holdings was already in motion. Elena was already on the move, silently acquiring distressed assets in the South River district under the cover of a generic investment firm. By the time Julian or any of the other local "elite" realized what was happening, Ethan would already own the ground they stood on.
Ethan's eyes snapped open as the bell rang, signaling the end of the lecture. He didn't wait for Julian to make a scene or for his classmates to corner him. He stood up and slipped out the back exit, blending into the crowd of students.