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Chapter 177: Shadows in Power
Chapter 177: Shadows in Power
Chapter: Shadows in Power
The air in the Central Vista was thick with anticipation as George, clad in his sharp black suit, stood opposite Ranger Logan.
The tension between them seemed to hang like an unspoken challenge, but George’s expression softened as he took the detection device from the scientist’s outstretched hands.
The device gleamed under the bright fluorescent lights, its polished white surface reflecting the pristine sterility of the lab.
It was a compact, square-shaped object with a glossy screen embedded in its center.
At the top, a sleek, silver-polished antenna extended slightly, almost as if reaching for the very air it would soon disrupt.
George turned the device over in his hands, inspecting it with a mix of curiosity and skepticism.
His sharp gaze flickered to Logan, and for the first time since their meeting, a faint smile touched his lips.
"I must admit," George said, his tone measured but with a tinge of grudging respect, "I doubted you at first. But now, I can see how responsible you truly are in your work."
Logan stood tall, his broad frame exuding an aura of quiet authority. He didn’t respond immediately, allowing George’s words to linger.
Encouraged by the silence, George continued, his voice taking on a more commanding tone. "We’ll need over a million of these devices by Sunday. It’s non-negotiable."
The scientist, who had been silently observing the exchange, stiffened slightly at the ambitious demand.
His hands, which had carefully cradled the device moments before, clenched into subtle fists.
Logan turned his head slightly, his sharp gaze meeting the scientist’s apprehensive one. With a deep, deliberate sigh, he gave his command. "Do as he says," he ordered, his voice firm but devoid of emotion.
The scientist hesitated, opening his mouth as though to protest. But something in Logan’s piercing stare silenced him. Nodding curtly, he turned on his heel and exited the room, his footsteps echoing in the sterile corridor.
As the doors hissed shut behind the retreating scientist, Logan shifted his attention back to George. His intense gaze seemed to pierce through the agent, weighing him in ways that words never could.
"So," Logan began, his voice low but cutting through the silence, "you’re planning a nationwide investigation this Sunday?"
George shook his head, his expression neutral but his eyes glinting with the thrill of power. "Not me," he replied smoothly.
"My job is to act as the bridge between your work and the government. The investigation itself will be handled by the army. After all, we don’t know how the Power Holders will react when we start hunting them down."
He stepped forward, his polished shoes clicking against the tiled floor, but stopped abruptly before the towering steel doors of the Central Vista.
In his hand, he still clutched the sleek black briefcase, an enigmatic presence he had yet to reveal.
George turned halfway, glancing back at Logan over his shoulder. "This mission will require you to stay on standby, Logan," he said, his tone carrying an air of expectation.
"I have no doubt the army will face challenges beyond their capabilities. When that happens, we’ll need you to step in and deal with the Power Holders directly."
Logan’s lips curled into a faint, sardonic smirk. "If the fight’s decent enough," he said, a hint of amusement coloring his otherwise gruff tone, "I might show up."
George clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to snap. He knew better than to argue with someone like Logan.
The man was a force of nature, unpredictable and unwavering. Instead, George nodded tersely and walked away, his pace brisk and purposeful.
Logan watched him disappear into the corridor, his presence a storm that had finally passed.
Without a second thought, Logan turned back to his work, his focus unwavering.
The scene shifted abruptly to an opulent room that seemed worlds away from the sterile, militarized halls of the Central Vista.
The space was a masterpiece of excess, exuding the kind of luxury that spoke not of comfort but of absolute power.
Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, almost surreal glow across the room.
Plush, deep-red carpets muffled every footstep, and intricately carved wooden furniture adorned with velvet cushions lined the space.
It was the kind of room where every detail had been meticulously crafted to impress and intimidate in equal measure.
But the most striking sight was not the room itself—it was the two figures kneeling on the floor.
The President of the country and the Prime Minister, two of the most powerful figures in the nation, knelt side by side on the lush carpet. Their heads were bowed low, their postures stiff with tension and submission.
Across from them, lounging casually on a leather sofa, sat a man who seemed to defy the opulence of his surroundings.
He was middle-aged, overweight, and exuded an air of smug satisfaction.
On either side of him sat two young women, their gazes blank yet attentive, as though they existed solely to serve the man’s whims.
"So, Mr. President," the man drawled, his voice smooth and taunting, "how’s our plan coming along?"
The President raised his head slightly, just enough to meet the man’s gaze without appearing disrespectful.
"Master," he began, his tone careful and deferential, "as per your instructions, everything is proceeding smoothly. If your plan succeeds, we will either capture or eliminate 70 to 80 percent of the Power Holders in this country."
The man’s lips curled into a smile that was equal parts amusement and malice. "You’re such obedient servants," he said, his tone dripping with mockery.
The President’s expression didn’t falter. "Thank you, Master. It is an honor to serve you," he replied, his voice steady despite the humiliation coursing through him.
The man shifted his gaze to one of the young women at his side. "Do you know why I’ve stayed in the shadows all this time?" he asked, his tone deceptively light. "Why I haven’t attacked directly like those vampires?"
The woman, along with the President and Prime Minister, looked at him in silence, their eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and unease.
"I’m not strong enough," the man admitted, his smile never wavering. "Not physically, and not even in terms of my abilities. My power doesn’t allow me to control people in large numbers."
He leaned back into the sofa, his eyes gleaming with self-assurance. "But what sets me apart from the vampire lord and other Power Holders is that I know my limitations. That’s why I’ve remained in the shadows, quietly eliminating threats and consolidating my position."
His words carried a chilling weight, a reminder of the dangerous intelligence that lay beneath his unassuming exterior. The President and Prime Minister nodded solemnly, their fear palpable.
The man’s smile widened, a predator savoring his dominance over his prey.
The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of the man’s presence suffocating everyone within it.
The President and Prime Minister remained kneeling, their loyalty—borne of fear rather than respect—etched across their faces.
The man, the true puppet master in this shadowy game of power, reclined further into the sofa. His confidence was unshakable, his influence vast yet invisible to the world at large.
And as the Chapter came to a close, one thing became clear: true power often lies in the shadows, biding its time until it can strike with precision and finality.
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