Inside Mayor Henderson’s private conference room, the air was dead cold.

Senior Auditor Jonathan Meles stood tall by the table with his hands folded behind his back, looking down at Evren with a thin, mocking smile.

Evren didn’t flinch. He reached down and picked up the stamped High Court document, looking completely calm.

Beside him, Mikay stepped forward, his banker’s instincts taking over.

"If this is an official High Court Injunction under Code 104, you are legally required to provide the complete audit docket," Mikay demanded. "We need the certified list of flagged transaction IDs and the official court registrar’s docket number."

Meles’s smile stiffened slightly, annoyed that Evren’s assistant knew imperial financial regulations so well.

With a soft scoff, Meles reached into his briefcase, pulled out a small silver data drive, and tossed it onto the polished mahogany table.

"It’s all on there, Director," Meles said coldly. "Every single flagged transfer, down to the exact second. Forty-eight hours, Chairman Evren. The clock is already ticking."

Meles turned around, gesturing toward the four armed federal marshals standing by the windows.

Without another word, Meles and his men walked out of the room. Their boots clicked against the marble floor of the corridor until the sound faded into the distance.

The second they were gone, Mayor Henderson rushed across the room. He slammed the double doors shut and turned the brass lock with trembling hands.

Henderson leaned his back against the wood, breathing heavily as he wiped cold sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

"Evren... this is bad," Mayor Henderson whispered in a slightly shaky voice. "This is very bad."

"Who is Meles?" Evren asked, placing the papers on the table.

"He’s not a local tax collector," Henderson said, walking over with genuine fear in his eyes. "He answers directly to the High Chancellor of the Imperial Treasury in Aethelgard. In thirty years of politics in this province, I’ve only seen that specific task force deployed twice."

Henderson swallowed hard, lowering his voice. "Both times, high nobility in the Capital used it to destroy rivals. They slap you with an impossible forty-eight-hour audit, freeze your operating accounts so you can’t pay suppliers or legal fees, and then step in to seize your entire business under emergency imperial receivership."

"Who sent him?" Amber asked, crossing her arms.

"I have no idea," Henderson admitted, shaking his head grimly. "Meles keeps his directives locked under executive privilege. But an order like this doesn’t come from a regional office. Someone at the very top of the empire wants you bankrupt and ruined before you can ever set foot in the Capital."

"They’re too late for that," Evren said calmly. "The relief checks to the miners are already out."

"Yes, thank God," Henderson exhaled with relief. "The foundation escrow cleared before Meles walked into this building. But your personal accounts, Apex Conglomerate, and all your corporate holdings are completely locked."

Evren picked up the silver drive and slipped it into his bomber jacket pocket. "We’re heading home."

The black armored car drove through the evening traffic, climbing the winding mountain road toward Victoria Hill.

Below them, the lights of Veridia Metropolis spread out like a sea of diamonds under the dark sky. In the front passenger seat, Mikay took off his wire-rimmed glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.

He turned around, looking at Evren with a dead serious expression.

"Boss... I need to be straight with you," Mikay said.

Evren looked at him. "Go ahead."

"People might look at me and think I was just a yes-man who managed your wealth and never asked questions," Mikay said in a low, honest voice. "When your account was first assigned to my desk at Apex National Bank, I pulled up your public profile. On paper, you were an F-Rank courier with forty-eight dollars to your name. But sitting on my screen was an active VIP account with millions of dollars in liquid cash."

Mikay put his glasses back on, adjusting the bridge. "The truth is, when your first deposit cleared, our branch compliance terminal didn’t flag an alert. It flashed a Level-Zero Sovereign Master Code."

Amber looked over, listening intently.

"What does that mean?" Evren asked.

"In our wealth management training, Level-Zero codes only belong to two things: imperial black budgets or sovereign nobility trust funds," Mikay explained. "Branch managers who pry into Level-Zero accounts face immediate dismissal or treason charges. My job was strictly VIP wealth management and concierge service. Legally, I wasn’t even allowed to ask where the money came from."

Mikay tapped the screen of his tablet, pulling up several encrypted folders.

"But as a banker and director of your operations, I knew this day would come," Mikay continued. "A computer algorithm might look the other way for a Level-Zero code, but human tax auditors won’t. Men like Meles don’t care about automated bank clearances. They want commercial paper trails, corporate tax filings, and trade manifests."

Mikay turned the tablet screen toward Evren.

Displayed on the screen were hundreds of neatly organized digital archives.

"Ever since you hired me as Director of Operations, I’ve been backing up every single central clearing token, every transfer stamp, and every transaction receipt from the bank’s core servers," Mikay said. "We have the bank records to prove the funds were cleared legally by Apex National Bank."

"So what’s the catch?" Amber asked.

"The catch is the timeline," Mikay said grimly. "An imperial forensic audit normally takes three to four weeks just to review paperwork. Meles gave us forty-eight hours. He rigged the clock so we can’t possibly process an appeal in time. By Friday afternoon, he’ll claim we failed to produce the records and move to seize our assets."

Evren looked at the screen. "Then we don’t play purely by his rules."

Ten minutes later, the car passed through the tall iron gates of the manor. Stone lanterns lit the driveway as the car pulled up to the grand front entrance.

Arthur opened the door with a respectful bow. "Good evening, Chairman. Miss Amber, Director Mikay."

They walked into the main hall.

Sitting in the private living pavilion was Zephyra.

She was dressed in comfortable dark indoor robes, a warm cup of herbal tea resting on the table beside her. Having rested all afternoon after her morning spar, her breathing was smooth and her eyes were bright and focused.

The moment Evren and Amber walked in, Zephyra set her cup down.

Her sharp gaze swept over their faces. "What happened?"

"Come to the study," Evren said.

Inside the Grand Study, Evren laid the High Court injunction papers on the wide mahogany desk.

Mikay placed his tablet beside them, pulling up the list of one hundred and forty flagged transactions.

Evren quickly summarized the ambush at City Hall, Senior Auditor Meles’s 48-hour deadline, and Mayor Henderson’s warning about the Capital Treasury.

Amber leaned against the desk, her brow furrowed. "If their system is rigged to run out the clock, fighting purely by their rules means we lose by default. We can’t march into the Treasury with swords."

"I can file an emergency appeal with the Provincial Commerce Court tomorrow morning," Mikay suggested, typing notes on his tablet. "Director Keller has pull with the local magistrates. It might buy us a few extra days, but if Meles has a High Court warrant, local judges won’t be able to hold him off forever."

The room fell quiet for a moment.

Then, a soft rustle came from the side of the room.

Zephyra stepped forward. Her dark eyes were completely steady as she looked down at the stamped document on the desk.

"You and Mikay handle the bank and the law by day, Master," Zephyra spoke in a quiet voice.

Evren looked at her.

Zephyra met his gaze with a faint, cold smile. "Leave Senior Auditor Meles to me. I’ll shadow his steps, watch his hotel, and listen to his calls. If someone in the Capital is pulling his strings, I’ll find out who it is."

Evren looked at Zephyra, then glanced at Mikay and Amber.

A cold, confident smirk touched his lips. "Good," Evren said. "Let’s give them forty-eight hours they won’t forget."

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