Chapter 540: Raymond Cole(2)

The blue light of the system screen faded, leaving the dim lounge lights to wash back over the floor.

​Alex took a slow, steady breath.

​This was a jackpot. If someone like Raymond Cole ever agreed to stand behind Eclipse Holdings, the building would become the smaller prize.

An independent Ascended-realm magnate, unaligned, brave enough to refuse the best offers in the city, dangerous enough that even Sacred Families had learned not to press him in public. That kind of man could change the weight of an empire overnight.

But the problem was the same as the value.

Cole did not look like a man who took orders.

Earlier Alex had taken him for what the file suggested, a wealthy old pervert burning through money on women and pleasure.

But that picture no longer held.

In his place stood a dangerous old fox—powerful enough to tear this entire room apart on a whim, yet experienced enough to smile and play the fool. He was no longer a reckless man wasting his final years, but a predator waiting with a purpose.

​"What are you really up to, old man?" Alex whispered under his breath, his voice barely cutting through the bass. "Who are you fishing for in a place like this? Those three families... or was it someone like me you were waiting for all along?"

Most people in Alex’s position would have felt a cold dread settle in their chest.

​Standing in front of an Ascended master was like standing before an open furnace. One wrong move, one misplaced word, and a cultivator at that level could turn him into dust before anyone even realized what happened.

​Yet Alex didn’t feel an ounce of fear. Instead, a hot, restless thrill rushed through his veins. His pulse quickened, not from terror, but from pure, raw excitement.

Alex decided not to approach him directly.

When dealing with an old fox who had spent years dodging three powerful families, marching onto the dance floor like an eager salesman was the worst move he could make. It would only make him look desperate.

​And men like Raymond Cole didn’t respect desperate people.

​He walked past the low couches and made his way toward the sleek bar counter running along the far wall. The lighting here was dimmer, framed by warm amber shelves and rows of polished crystal bottles.

​Alex slid onto an empty leather barstool, resting his arms easily against the dark marble counter.

​The bartender stepped over almost immediately, setting down a clean coaster. "Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?"

​"Bourbon," Alex said calmly. "Two cubes of ice."

​"Right away, sir."

By walking away and ordering a drink instead of interrupting, Alex was sending his own message: I’m in no hurry, and I’m not here to beg.

​A moment later, the bartender placed a heavy glass on the coaster with a dull clink. The amber liquid swirled gently around the clear ice.

​Alex picked it up and took a slow, measured sip. The liquor went down smooth, leaving a clean, pleasant warmth in its wake.

​He set the glass back on the marble and smiled faintly to himself.

​If Alex wanted this man to voluntarily stand behind him, he needed to know what Cole actually wanted. What he was starving for.

​Alex stayed by the counter, resting one elbow on the marble, his eyes casually tracking Cole’s reflection in the mirrored wall behind the bottles.

​While he stood there, the room didn’t leave him alone. ​His presence, sharp suit, and the effortless way he carried himself drew eyes across the lounge.

Within ten minutes, three different women approached him. One was a stunning brunette in a silk backless dress who leaned close to ask what he was drinking; another, a mature woman with heavy diamonds at her wrist, offered to invite him to her private booth with a lingering, suggestive smile.

​They were gorgeous, enchanting, and made their interest blatantly clear.

​Yet Alex turned each of them down with a polite, easy smile. He was charming enough not to cause offense, but distant enough to leave no room for debate. Tonight wasn’t about pleasure. He had a giant to catch, and getting distracted by pretty faces was amateur work.

​Once the counter around him quieted down again, Alex took a slow sip of bourbon and pulled Viktor’s file back into his mind, running through every detail from the beginning.

​Something didn’t add up. ​The Blackwood records and public registries listed Raymond Cole as a Middle Stage Enhanced cultivator.

​That was a massive discrepancy.

​Reaching the Ascended Realm wasn’t something a man did by accident over drinks. It required rare resources, absurd talent, and life-or-death breakthroughs. You didn’t hide in plain sight as an Ascended master for decades without the Sacred Families sniffing it out.

​Which meant one thing: Cole hadn’t been this strong five years ago. He had made this insane leap recently.

​And the timeline aligned perfectly with the single biggest fracture in Cole’s life.

​Five years ago, Cole’s only son had died of a sudden, bizarre illness. Right around the same time, his daughter-in-law vanished into thin air without leaving a single trace.

​Directly after that double blow, Cole’s entire empire began to rot.

​On paper, it looked like a grieving father giving up... debts piling up, partners taking advantage, businesses shutting down one after another.

​’Did he really just give up?’ Alex thought, his eyes narrowing slightly behind the amber glass. ’Or did he burn his own empire on purpose?’

​The pieces began falling into a far more sinister picture.

​A wealthy businessman doesn’t simply watch his son die and his family disappear without fighting back. Cole had likely spent billions hiring private investigators, mercenaries, and underworld networks to find out who had targeted his bloodline.

​And what happened when he traced it?

​He probably hit a wall. A wall made of power so terrifying... a Sacred Family, a high-ranking syndicate, or an untouchable cultivator... that ordinary money and business influence were completely useless against them. In this world, a billionaire with no strength was nothing more than a fat sheep waiting to be sheared.

​Alex could almost see it.

​The despair, the sickening feeling of total helplessness, the realization that all the wealth in the city couldn’t avenge his dead son or bring back his daughter-in-law.

​So what would a man like Cole do after realizing that?

He would stop wasting money on useless companies. He would let the business collapse, quietly liquidate whatever assets he had left, and sink every single credit into his own body... buying forbidden pills, and whatever dangerous resources were needed to tear his way into the Ascended Realm.

​He didn’t want to be a businessman anymore. He wanted to become a weapon.

​’And what about this building?’ Alex turned the glass slowly in his hand, watching the ice clink against the rim.

​Why was Cole still clinging to that specific property?

​Could it be that the three families fighting over it weren’t just greedy buyers? Could one of them be the very faction responsible for his family’s tragedy? Or was Cole holding onto that prime location as bait, waiting for the real culprits to finally step out of the shadows and try to take it by force?

​If that was the case, Cole wasn’t partying on this floor because he was carefree.

​He was sharpening his claws in plain sight, waiting for the right moment to strike.

​A slow, cold grin touched the corner of Alex’s mouth.

​If this was Cole’s reality, then offering him millions of credits was an insult. A man who sacrificed his entire life for vengeance didn’t care about market value.

​He wanted blood. He wanted answers. And he wanted the backing to crush whoever had ruined him without having to worry about the fallout.

​Alex drained the rest of his bourbon, feeling the clean burn hit the back of his throat.

​He set the empty glass down on the coaster. He finally knew what card to play.

​"Hello, handsome..."

​Just when Alex thought he had finally pieced everything together, the voice drifted in from right behind his shoulder.

​It was smooth, remarkably pleasant, and carried a teasing warmth that cut clean through the heavy bass of the lounge.

​"You’re quite the hotshot, aren’t you?"

​Alex paused. He turned around on the barstool, expecting to see another bored socialite looking for an easy conversation.

​The moment his eyes landed on her face, he froze.