The Raid
A few days passed.
Lunar Citadel no longer existed in na.
The gilded plaque at the entrance had been replaced overnight.
Bear Hotel.
The new logo glead under the Valemont sun, sharp and arrogant, as if announcing a shift in territory.
After taking over the hotel, Bear imdiately sent the troublemakers back to their hos.
Those people had been the family mbers of the deceased woman—an executive from his own company. They had cried, cursed, staged protests, blocked entrances, and shouted for justice.
He solved it the way n like him always did.
After spending millions to appease them, promising compensation and quiet settlents, everything was finally settled.
Money.
After spending millions to appease them, promising compensation and quiet settlents, everything was finally settled.
No more banners.
No more weeping relatives.
No more dia caras at the gate.
Having worked hard to eliminate all negative impacts, the hotel’s business was slowly returning to normal. The lobby regained its polished calm. Crystal chandeliers glittered. Guests in tailored suits checked in as if nothing had ever happened.
From the outside—
The storm had passed.
At this mont, Bear was sitting in his office on the top floor.
The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked half of Valemont. Traffic moved like flowing veins beneath him. He leaned back in a leather chair, one arm lazily wrapped around his beautiful secretary, pulling her onto his lap.
Her perfu was sweet and dizzying.
His fingers slid along her waist, impatient, entitled.
"President Bear..." she whispered, half shy, half practiced.
He smirked.
The world was back under control.
Or so he thought.
Suddenly—
Rapid footsteps echoed from the hallway outside.
Heavy. Coordinated.
Not the soft shuffle of hotel staff.
The office door was violently pushed open.
It slamd against the wall.
A group of police officers stord in.
Boots struck marble. Radios crackled. Bulletproof vests glead under the light.
"What the hell? Can’t you knock?"
Bear didn’t stand.
He didn’t release the woman either.
Instead, he wore a proud, almost amused expression.
Who was he now?
The head of Bear Group.
In Valemont, he was a top-tier entrepreneur.
The owner of a seven-star hotel.
What were a bunch of lowly police officers to him?
"Are you the person in charge of the hotel?"
Charlotte Bonds stepped forward.
Her long azure hair was tied back tightly today. No softness in her eyes—only steel. She wore full tactical gear beneath a dark police jacket. Teal eyes locked onto him without hesitation.
A few days ago, Director Walker had personally led a covert investigation.
Undercover officers posed as guests. Maintenance workers. Even suppliers.
They gathered evidence quietly—hidden storage compartnts, suspicious transactions, coded shipnts routed through the hotel’s logistics chain.
They found enough.
Today, she led the official raid.
She held up her credentials coldly.
"Valemont West Side Police Station. Special Investigation Unit."
"Answer the question."
"Yes. What’s the matter?"
Bear’s eyes road over her body without restraint.
Her narrow waist. The controlled strength in her posture. The outline of her curves beneath the uniform.
If he had known—
If he had known this was the woman the Obsidian King had his eyes on—
He would never have dared look at her like that.
"Your hotel is suspected of harboring drugs. Co with us."
Her voice was flat.
Professional.
Final.
With a wave of her hand, she signaled for an officer to handcuff Bear.
"Fuck you."
The temperature in the room dropped.
Bear shoved the secretary aside and stood up abruptly.
His eyes darkened.
"Do you know who I am?" he barked. "I’m the head of Bear Group. Dare to touch and see what happens?"
The officer did not hesitate.
He grabbed Bear’s wrist to cuff him.
Bear’s muscles tensed.
For a split second, he considered resisting.
But then—
Several fully ard special police officers stepped forward.
Black rifles raised.
Cold barrels aid directly at him.
The secretary scread.
Bear froze.
His jaw clenched so hard the veins at his temples bulged.
Slowly—
He raised his hands.
Rage burned in his eyes.
If this were abroad—
If this were in the shadows where guns answered to him—
None of these people would leave alive.
"Handcuff him and take him away."
Charlotte didn’t blink.
The tal clicked around his wrists.
For the first ti since arriving in Valemont—
Bear felt sothing unfamiliar.
Loss of control.
When they reached downstairs, Bear was completely dumbfounded.
The surrounding area had been cordoned off.
Police tape fluttered in the wind.
Police cars lined the streets like two long steel dragons, red and blue lights slicing through the afternoon.
Dozens of people were handcuffed and sitting on the ground.
Terrified.
Hotel staff. Logistics managers. External associates.
Among them—
One Way Deaf and One Way Blind.
The two cousins who once strutted through Valemont’s underworld now sat pale and trembling, their earlier arrogance drained away.
Even if Bear were a fool—
He knew.
This had blown up.
Completely.
"I want a lawyer!" he shouted, voice no longer steady. "Let call my lawyer!"
But no one responded.
No one even looked at him.
Once everyone had been rounded up, they were all put into police cars and taken away.
Sirens wailed as the convoy moved.
Within the hour—
The news spread across Valemont like wildfire.
Bear Hotel suspected of harboring drugs.
As the hotel’s head and legal representative—
Bear was finished this ti.
The once-glorious entrance was sealed on the spot.
Red notices plastered against the gold doors.
Guests watched from across the street, whispering.
Power had shifted again.
---------
Elsewhere.
Julian D’Aurelius lay on his bed, casually playing with his phone.
Golden eyes reflected the glow of the screen.
A faint notification flashed across a private channel.
Operation successful.
He already knew.
Of course he knew.
He had quietly orchestrated all this.
The email.
The timing.
The pressure.
The chessboard had moved exactly as planned.
He exhaled slowly, expression calm.
Then a faint smile curved his lips.
"Mad dog," he murmured under his breath.
"Let’s see how you bite now."
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