Sitting on the comfortable sofa in his villa, Martin stared at his phone, contemplating his next move.
The recent conversation with Maria Cross had stirred a sense of urgency within him—he knew the world of business was as treacherous as any battlefield, and having powerful allies in high places was essential.
But powerful allies didn't just exist in the daylight.
His thumb hovered over his contact list, finally landing on the number he had saved as "Mystery Agent." The woman who had approached him a few nights ago, offering him a glimpse into the darker, more dangerous side of society.
After a moment of hesitation, Martin pressed the call button. The line barely rang once before she answered, her voice smooth and knowing.
"Thought about it?" she asked without preamble.
Martin wasn't surprised by her familiarity. He expected nothing less from someone well-versed in reading people. Without wasting time, he told her he wanted to experience the hidden side of society—its nightlife, as she had put it—before making any concrete decisions.
Silence stretched on the other end of the line. For a moment, Martin wondered if she was reconsidering her offer. But finally, she spoke again, her tone more serious than before.
"I can bring you to the door," she said. "But whether you walk through it or make it out the other side—that's on you."
Martin didn't flinch at her words. He was already too deep into this world of shadows and power plays to turn back now. He agreed to her terms without hesitation.
The woman then gave him an address.
"There's a place you can start. An underground gambling den where illegal MMA fights are held. Tonight would be a good night to visit. But remember, it's not just about the fights—it's a recruitment ground for all sorts of people. Bodyguards, mercenaries, thugs… and worse."
She followed up with a link to an unsecured website. Martin frowned slightly, surprised that she wasn't more careful with her words.
She wasn't hiding anything, even through an open phone call. It was either a sign of extreme confidence or the knowledge that no one would dare intercept her communications.
Curiosity piqued, Martin toggled the VPN on his phone and opened the link in incognito mode.
The website was as blunt and audacious as the woman had implied. It openly advertised the illegal fights, showcasing past matches, the damage inflicted, and even a scoreboard ranking the top fighters. There were videos of brutal knockouts, limbs bent in unnatural directions, and enough blood to make any sane person recoil.
Yet it was all presented in an almost celebratory manner, encouraging visitors to bet or even participate if they dared.
Scrolling further, Martin found the fight rules—or lack thereof. Fighters were required to sign a waiver of human rights, agreeing that any injuries, including death, would not be the responsibility of the organizers.
The waiver detailed the grim possibilities—severed limbs, permanent disabilities, death—but there was no shortage of willing participants.
What truly caught Martin's attention were the sponsors listed in the shadows. No names were given, but the implication was clear: high-ranking officials, powerful business figures, and even politicians had a hand in this operation.
It was an open secret, something that everyone knew about but no one dared to touch.
"The government must be turning a blind eye to this," Martin muttered to himself. The whole setup was audacious, to say the least. He knew that illegal activities like this often thrived because of the backing of powerful people, but this seemed almost too brazen.
As he scrolled through the rest of the site, watching clips of the fights and reading about the prizes for participants, he realized how small his worldview had been. He had always known that the world was ruthless, but the deeper he dug, the more layers of corruption and darkness he uncovered.
Martin took a deep breath, closing the website and pocketing his phone. This was it. He was stepping into a world where the rules of society no longer applied, where money, power, and survival dictated everything. It was a world he had to navigate carefully—because one wrong step could lead to his downfall.
But there was no turning back now.
With the address memorized, he stood up, already preparing for the night ahead. He'd go to this underground den, see the reality of it for himself, and decide whether to align himself with this world of shadows.
He had a feeling it wouldn't be long before he was confronted with a choice—one that would shape his path forward in ways he couldn't yet foresee.
---
Martin sat at the large wooden desk in his study, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows through the tall windows of his villa.
A soft breeze carried the distant sounds of nature from the lake, but his focus was entirely on the screen of his laptop.
His mind buzzed with thoughts of sovereignty, ownership, and geopolitics.
He had spent the better part of the day scrolling through satellite images, government databases, and economic reports.
There was no shortage of islands in the world—small nations scattered across the oceans with barely enough infrastructure to support their population.
For most people, the idea of buying an island was a fantasy reserved for the ultra-rich, but Martin saw it as a viable step in his grander plan.
The system's powers opened doors that were closed to even the wealthiest of men. But it came with a price, one Martin was growing increasingly cautious of. Every wish, every purchase made with the midday gift came at the cost of life-force—his life-force.
And he had only just begun to understand the true consequences of the system's mechanics.
He pulled out his familiar notepad, the pages filled with calculations, philosophical musings, and business strategies. Martin knew that buying an island outright would result in a tremendous system rebate, but it was the cost he feared more than the price tag. The larger the population, the more complex the international relationships, the higher the geopolitical impact—and the greater the exhaustion of his life-force.
He needed to find an optimal solution: an island nation with a small population, a low GDP, minimal international ties, and backward policies. Somewhere he could make a discreet purchase without disrupting the delicate balance of global politics.
He didn't want to end up accidentally purchasing a country that served as the vacation home of some powerful figure, nor did he want to upend the livelihoods of thousands of people.
No, what he needed was a country so small and so poor that its purchase would hardly send ripples through the world.
But it had to be a place he could build up over time—a private haven where he could establish his company's headquarters and, more importantly, where he could rule without interference.
His fingers flew across the keyboard as he began narrowing down the list of potential candidates. He searched for small island nations with low GDPs, examining their populations, resources, and geographic locations.
His mind raced as he calculated the potential system rebate for each. It was crucial to ensure that when the time came, he wouldn't suffer a fatal backlash from the massive amount of life-force that would be drained by the system.
After an hour of research, he listed three potential options in his notepad:
1. Tuvalu: A small island country in the Pacific Ocean with a population of just over 11,000. Its GDP was one of the lowest in the world, and it had little international influence. Perfect for minimal disruption.
2. Kiribati: Another Pacific nation with a population of around 120,000. Its GDP was higher than Tuvalu's but still negligible on the global scale. However, its strategic location made it somewhat more important to certain international shipping routes.
3. Nauru: With a population of roughly 10,000, Nauru was one of the least populated nations in the world. It had almost no natural resources left after years of phosphate mining, making it a forgotten speck in the Pacific.
Martin stared at the list. Each of these islands had its advantages and drawbacks. Tuvalu and Nauru were small enough that he could quietly acquire them without drawing much attention. Kiribati, on the other hand, was larger but might be too connected to international trade routes.
He leaned back in his chair, his pen tapping lightly on the notepad as he considered the best course of action. Forty-two days remained until he could fuse his silver tokens into a golden one, an event that would likely increase his capacity for life-force.
It would be risky, but with the gold token in hand, Martin believed he could handle the backlash of purchasing an island nation. He'd have the ability to recuperate, meditate, and regain his strength.
This was not a decision he needed to rush into—he could take his time, prepare, and when the moment came, execute his plan with precision.
For now, all he had to do was continue his research and ensure everything was in place when the opportunity finally arrived.
As he set the notepad aside, Martin smiled to himself. The future was filled with possibilities.