The Manhattan horizon seemed to be an assortment of shining gems against the night sky, representing the extravagance and force of the city. The city that never rested was the jungle gym of the rich and renowned, a realm where dreams could be acknowledged with the perfect sum and desire. What's more, at the focal point, all things considered, was Christopher Real, a man whose name was inseparable from both riches and heartlessness. Christopher Real was no customary very rich person; he was a titan in the realm of money and industry. His ascent from a modest childhood in Brooklyn to the transcending high rises of Manhattan was downright extreme. He ripped at himself out of the profundities of destitution, utilizing his smart keenness and immovable assurance to hoard abundance equaling the Gross domestic product of little countries. In his late forties, Christopher was a sharp, directing figure whose puncturing dim eyes sparkled with undying desire. His salt and pepper hair was flawlessly plaited and his custom-made suit was the meaning of refinement. At an age when most men are thinking about retirement, Christopher Authentic is as yet ravenous yet pursuing something that has evaded him for quite a long time. It was this doubt, this deep longing for retribution, that drove him to the highest point of his domain. For a really long time he played the round of riches and influence, storing up a monetary domain with savage proficiency. Be that as it may, as he sat in his garret over the city, a dimness drifted over his past — a murkiness he would never get away. The picture of his dad, a once pleased man who was obliterated by savage colleagues, tormented Christopher constantly. It was a consuming memory that formed his life, diverting him from an aggressive young fellow into a tremendous power of nature. The memory of his dad's tears, his mom's aggravation and their definitive fall turned into the fuel that lighted his desire. Real's name was spread and Christopher chose to clear it. He took in the principles of the game, assembled his realm, and presently looked for retribution against the people who had violated his loved ones. They were passing figures from his dad's past, the engineers of his family's defeat. His fingers tapped musically on the mahogany table as he looked at the city beneath. In no time, he assembled a mysterious conference with his nearest compatriots, the insider who assisted him with sorting out the riddle of his dad's end. They were a different gathering, each with novel capacities, yet joined by the shared objective of assisting Christopher Real with seeking his hotly anticipated retribution. " Mr. Authentic, your visitors have shown up," his associate Melissa declared as she went into the room. His voice was proficient and unfeeling, mirroring the accuracy that Christopher requested in each part of his life. " Much obliged, Melissa," Christopher answered probably. " Show them in." The entryway opened and individually his dependable partners went into the room. There was Emily Ross, a virtuoso programmer who could uncover privileged insights from the most obscure corners of the Web. Then, at that point, came Vincent St. Clair, a previous knowledge specialist who spent significant time in unpretentious examinations. Then, at that point, there was Maria Rodriguez, a daring legal counselor known for her capacity to twist the law to her will. At long last, there was James "Tarnish" Sullivan, an intense and creative ex-Marine who could finish things. Christopher rose from his seat to welcome them. " Much obliged to you for being here. This evening we start the following period of our tasks." Chopper Emily talked first. " We've assembled an abundance of data on our objectives, Mr. Real. Their monetary connections, their associations, their weaknesses. Now is the right time to strike." Vincent added: " I penetrated their inward circle undetected. They won't see us coming." Maria gestured, her voice conclusive. " Furthermore, I'm ready to utilize all legitimate and not-really lawful means to dispose of them assuming that we have the proof." Ex-Marine Tarnish just broke his knuckles, which said a lot. " I'm good to go, chief." Christopher took a gander at them all consistently. " Great. We've stood by adequately lengthy. Now is the ideal time to make them pay for how they treated my loved ones. Our process starts this evening and we won't rest until we arrive at our billion rage." The room loaded up with aggregate assurance and the group realized their vengeance had formally started. Reverberations of the past before long resound through the corridors of influence and abundance as Christopher Authentic releases his anger on the individuals who have violated him and his loved ones. They actually didn't have the foggiest idea about the difficulties and insider facts that lay ahead, yet they were all prepared to confront anything it required to satisfy Christopher's aspirations and reestablish his dad's honor.