Originally translated from the Thai language.
Wenjie slumped heavily into his chair, a searing wave of humiliation rushing through his veins. His face burned as though he had been publicly backhanded at a crowded intersection. In a matter of minutes, he had tumbled from holding the absolute upper hand to becoming a pathetic laughingstock in front of the entire executive board.
Mingzhi cast a tight, sidelong glance from the corner of his eye, his mind completely chaotic with disbelief.
How is this statistically possible?... Why did it turn out to be Miling?
Everything was engineered to conclude precisely according to the script he had drafted. Wenjie was supposed to be branded as utterly incompetent by Kawin’s exposure. Yet, the entire chessboard had flipped upside down Miling had walked away with the absolute glory instead.
That demon. That absolute demon is undoubtedly pulling the strings behind this...
Mingzhi ground his teeth together, his venomous glare locking onto Adisorn.
Adisorn shifted his eyes, catching Mingzhi’s gaze. He casually hoisted a singular eyebrow and offered a microscopic, highly provocative smirk.
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In the expansive, echoing corridor, the veteran strategist halted his stride directly ahead of Adisorn. The man spun around, his gaze bottomless and perfectly serene.
This man was the exact same demon that had once manifested within his own shadow in the past.
"An absolutely flawless performance, Mr. Markrim," Mingzhi’s raspy, weathered voice cut through the silence. "Are you truly so cold-blooded that you intentionally engineered Young Master Wenjie into a clown, to be ridiculed in front of the entire assembly?"
A superficial smile played upon Adisorn’s sharp features, but his eyes remained as freezing as sub-oceanic ice.
"Mr. Mingzhi, your accusations are rather hyperbolic," Adisorn replied in a flat, even baritone. "I am merely a detached spectator outside the ring. I have absolutely no skin in this game."
"Drop the synthetic mask!" Mingzhi hissed, his eyes burning with the bitter resentment of being blindsided at his highest moment of vulnerability. "I see the demon lurking inside you... a demon entirely willing to incinerate the world just to seize its own desires. Tell me what is your ultimate endgame? Wealth? Absolute power? Or do you actually intend to scale the summit and rule over CK Group?!"
Adisorn fell silent for a fraction of a second, before letting out a low, mocking chuckle from his throat. "Rule over CK Group?" The man tilted his head toward the ceiling, then brought his gaze back down to lock eyes with the old man.
"That is a remarkably shallow objective, Mr. Mingzhi... It belongs to your kind. Not mine."
Mingzhi narrowed his eyes, desperately attempting to dissect his opponent’s grand design. "Hah... Do not presume you can deceive me. Your trajectory is blindingly obvious. Do you think I don't see what you're plotting?" The elder strategist hoisted his chin, his glare unyielding. "You intend to hoist Miling up to stand as a direct rival to the young master, correct?"
Mingzhi leaned in slightly closer, dropping his voice to a threatening whisper. "Do not get ahead of yourself... A novice like you should be profoundly grateful to have achieved even this much."
Upon hearing the remark, Adisorn burst into genuine amusement. "You write quite the theatrical script, Mr. Mingzhi... However," he leaned forward, his icy stare penetrating deep into the eyes of the man who claimed to have weathered more storms.
"Your script is entirely obsolete... It deserves to be crumpled up and hurled into the garbage bin." Adisorn’s lips contorted into a deeply mocking sneer, causing the elder strategist's eyelid to twitch violently at the blatant, unforgivable disrespect.
Adisorn remained perfectly stationary, his focus absolute upon the wrinkled face before him. "I have no desire to climb above CK Group like the rest of you... I am merely standing here to ensure that when the edge of the cliff you are all standing on inevitably collapses, I am right there to witness it. And when that day arrives, I will simply peer down into the abyss to confirm that not a single soul makes it out alive... including the very individual who created me."
Adisorn reached out, gently brushing a speck of imaginary dust off the shoulder of Mingzhi’s tailored suit. "Do take care of your health, sir... because I would be deeply disappointed if you expired before witnessing the final chapter of this novel."
He dropped his hand, casually stepping past the old man and walking away without a single backward glance. Mingzhi stood trembling in the center of the deserted corridor. In that precise micro-second, absolute certainty settled into his bones he was staring directly into the eyes of a cataclysmic typhoon that was about to obliterate CK Group, and drag him down along with it.