The early morning light filtered through the tall windows of SkyCore Industries, casting long streaks across the polished marble floor of the executive lounge. Sanda sat silently, back slightly slouched, a steaming cup of black tea in his hand. His appearance was modest—well-fitted charcoal suit, clean white shirt, and polished shoes—but there was something about him that drew eyes. Calm, composed, mysterious. No one would suspect that this low-tier employee once commanded entire armies or healed terminal diseases with a single pulse.
His secretary, Mia, entered the lounge, heels tapping softly against the floor. She moved with the grace of someone used to power, her voice calm and steady. "Sir, the invitation from Zenith Holdings has arrived. They insist on your presence tonight at their elite gathering."
Sanda glanced up. "Did they mention the reason?"
Mia paused. She knew not to push too hard. She was among the few who knew that Sanda was, in fact, Laga—the silent giant who built SkyCore from the shadows. "They mentioned a presentation on rare mineral fusion. But I think it's more than that. There are whispers, sir. Rumors that someone powerful will be revealed tonight."
Sanda's lips curled slightly. Not a smile, more like a recognition of a move made in a long-planned game. "Prepare the suit. The black one."
Mia nodded and turned, but before she left, she added, "Your old acquaintance—Dr. Kenzo—will be attending. He's been boasting recently about creating a medical elixir more advanced than anything seen before."
Now Sanda raised an eyebrow. Kenzo was once a student in the northern cultivation province, a stubborn and proud man who always sought shortcuts. Last Sanda heard, Kenzo was kicked out of two major sects for unethical experimentation.
"That should be interesting," Sanda said under his breath. "Let's see how far he's come."
---
Hours later, the night air was thick with perfume, tension, and pride. The Zenith Holdings gala was held in one of the tallest skyscrapers in Golden City, the capital. The entire top floor was converted into a luminous crystal ballroom. Chandeliers sparkled like stars and violin music played softly in the background.
Executives, scientists, cultivators, politicians—all mingled with smiles and handshakes. But under the surface was a game of power, of chess moves veiled in compliments.
Sanda entered through the main elevator, his presence going unnoticed at first. His name badge read Alex Dune, a mere department supervisor. But a few guests paused. Something about his aura—it wasn't pressure, but elegance. Like standing near a sleeping lion.
Dr. Kenzo stood on a raised stage, dressed in a white medical robe, his silver-rimmed glasses flashing under the lights.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said with pride, holding up a glowing vial, "I present to you the future of human endurance—Chronos Serum. Developed after years of molecular refinement and alchemical re-balancing."
The crowd applauded politely, some more enthusiastic than others. Mia leaned toward Sanda. "He's claiming to have used ancient cultivation techniques in the refinement. The world believes him."
Sanda studied the serum, his expression blank. He could see the flaws even from a distance. "It'll cause internal rupturing in three weeks."
Mia's eyes widened. "Should we expose him?"
"Not yet," Sanda said, sipping his drink. "Let him reach higher. It's only when someone thinks they've reached the top that the fall hurts the most."
Across the room, a few corporate moguls were whispering. One of them, Mr. Gaines, CEO of Orion Technologies, said, "That man in the corner... Alex Dune. I've seen him before. But I can't place where."
Another replied, "Some say he's just a mid-level analyst. Others say he once trained the top fighters from Dragon Hall."
The first scoffed. "Nonsense. Those fighters learned under the mythical Master Laga. No one has seen him for years."
As if hearing his name whispered across the room, Sanda raised his head slightly. His eyes locked with one of the Dragon Hall elders. The man froze, recognition flickering in his gaze—but he quickly looked away, pretending not to notice.
The elder turned to his companion. "We must leave. Now."
"Why?"
"Because if that's who I think it is... we're in the presence of the storm itself."
---
As the gala continued, Kenzo approached Sanda directly, his expression smug.
"You look familiar," Kenzo said, tilting his head. "Have we met before?"
Sanda gave a neutral smile. "Perhaps. Many faces in the past."
Kenzo squinted, then chuckled. "Well, if you're looking for a job in real medicine, come to my lab. I could use someone with your... composure."
Sanda only nodded. "Thank you. I'll consider it."
As Kenzo walked away, Mia whispered, "Why tolerate that?"
"Because the stage isn't ready yet," Sanda replied. "When the curtain rises... even he will bow."
---
In another corner of the hall, a woman watched Sanda closely. She was dressed in a deep blue evening gown, hair like silk, and eyes sharp as a hawk. She turned to her grandfather, the same old man Sanda had saved weeks earlier.
"Grandpa," she said. "That man. He seems... familiar."
The old man chuckled. "That, my dear Alia, is the man you're supposed to marry."
Alia gasped. "What? That's the man who cured you? But... he looks so ordinary."
The old man leaned forward. "Only on the outside. Inside, he's a mountain no army can move."
---
As midnight struck, an alarm suddenly sounded. The gala's lights dimmed, and a voice rang out through the emergency speakers:
"Warning: unauthorized spiritual fluctuations detected in Sector 5. All guests remain calm. Security dispatched."
Sanda put down his drink, eyes turning slightly cold. "They've come early."
Mia stepped forward, voice low. "Shall I call the guards?"
"No," he said. "Let me go check myself."
She nodded.
He walked silently toward the emergency exit, each step releasing a wave of invisible pressure, too subtle for ordinary senses. But those trained felt it like an ancient dragon opening its eye.
Behind him, guests resumed their conversations, unaware that a war had just begun in the shadows.