Zumi leaned back slightly, resting his elbows on the counter as the last of the morning chatter settled.
"I wanted to go casual for now," he said with a small grin. "I've been in suits for a while. Missed hoodies."
That earned a round of laughter.
"We love you in everything," Jasmine said easily.
"But yeah," Kathy added, smirking, "that's understandable."
Roberta finished plating breakfast with precise, fluid movements. Kasumi moved beside her, setting the table efficiently, already treating Roberta like a junior under her wing.
Plates were served—scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, and baked beans—simple, hearty, and comforting. Everyone sat together, the mood relaxed, domestic, almost surreal considering who all of them actually were.
After eating, Zumi wiped his hands lightly and spoke again, his tone shifting into quiet authority.
"Serafina. Leafa. Gia. Emily—you're with me all day."
Emily blinked, then nodded quickly, trying not to look too excited.
"Rachel," Zumi continued, "you're taking over all of Gia's duties today."
Rachel straightened instantly. "Understood."
"Kathy," he said next, "go sword shopping with Kaito's brother. I promised him a good blade. Get him something compatible with his style."
"Yes, sir," Kathy replied, already mentally cataloging weapon forges.
"Reina," Zumi went on, turning toward her, "I'll be heading back to the slums soon. Go to the hotel and prepare your division to operate without you for a while. Have them patrol the hotel and act as full security."
Reina bowed her head slightly. "Yes, sir."
"Ana," he said, "help Roberta set up Viktoria's mansion. She's moving in as soon as possible."
Ana smiled. "Got it."
Zumi glanced around the room once more, his gaze lingering briefly on each of them.
"The rest of you—do as you wish."
No one questioned him. No one hesitated.
The morning broke into motion—assignments accepted, roles understood, loyalty unquestioned.
And Emily, standing quietly near Gia, felt it again—that strange, steady sense that she had stepped into something far larger than she understood…
…and that somehow, she was exactly where she was meant to be.
Viktoria stepped out onto the front drive of the mansion just as a sleek black luxury car rolled to a smooth stop before her. The driver exited first, opening the door with practiced precision. Today's press conference would be monumental—she would be announcing that Volkov Global Entertainment Group now had a co-CEO, a man who held fifty percent of its shares.
Even for her, that was history-making.
She paused for a brief second, glancing back at the mansion, then entered the car without another word. The door closed softly behind her, and the vehicle pulled away.
Zumi lifted his hand and activated the ring.
Space folded.
A clean, seamless portal opened before them—golden light rimmed with calm distortion.
Noah's eyes went wide.
"Oooo—just like anime!"
Zumi chuckled lightly. "When you're older, maybe you can do cool stuff too."
Noah pumped a small fist. "Yeah! And I'll protect my big sister."
Emily smiled, her expression softening instantly. She leaned down and kissed Noah's forehead.
Then she stepped forward with him, following Zumi, Gia, Hina, Leafa, and Serafina through the portal. It closed behind them with a quiet shimmer.
They emerged inside Zumi's suite at the Hyatt Centric Hotel.
From there, they headed down toward the lounge level, intending to cross the street into the casino.
The hotel was busier than usual.
Guests checked in and out, rolling designer luggage, murmuring into phones. Several faces carried the unmistakable look of wealth—tailored suits, jewelry that didn't try to hide its price, quiet confidence.
Jonathan Gale was mid-conversation with a staff member when the elevator doors opened.
The moment he saw Zumi, he straightened.
"Welcome, Master," Jonathan said, bowing his head slightly. "How may I assist you?"
"We're heading to the casino," Zumi replied. "Do you have ID cards for us?"
Jonathan reached into his inner pocket and produced several sleek cards—black, stamped with the casino crest, edged in gold trim.
High-level access.
"Here you are."
The girls examined the cards with interest as Zumi accepted them.
"My brother Sebastian is waiting for you," Jonathan added. "He's been looking forward to your visit."
Zumi nodded. "Good."
They turned to leave—
And then raised voices cut through the lounge.
Two women were berating a hotel staff member, snapping orders, demanding room service immediately, their tone sharp and demeaning.
Zumi stopped.
He turned.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Sasha and Jaylnn.
The same two women whose room he had once cleaned.
The same two who had mocked and berated him at his fast-food job—right up until Gia had walked in and changed his life.
They hadn't recognized him yet.
"Do you even know how much we're paying to stay here?" Jaylnn snapped.
"I want someone up there now."
The girls with Zumi all turned slowly.
The air shifted.
Even Emily frowned, displeasure flickering across her face.
Gia leaned closer and whispered, "Want to handle this?"
Before Zumi could answer, Sasha's eyes flicked to Gia.
Her face went pale.
She followed Gia's gaze… to Zumi.
And froze.
"J-Jaylnn—stop," Sasha whispered urgently.
Jaylnn kept going. "Don't tell me to stop—this idiot—"
Then it clicked.
Her voice died.
She stared at Zumi.
Recognition slammed into her.
Zumi spoke first—his tone calm, almost reflective, as if quoting a memory.
"The… the lowly pauper," he said quietly, repeating the words she had once thrown at him.
"Barely scraping by… and now he owns the hotel."
Silence crashed down.
Neither Sasha nor Jaylnn could speak.
Zumi didn't raise his voice.
He didn't smile.
He turned slightly toward Jonathan.
"Have room service clean their rooms," Zumi said calmly.
"If they're rude to hotel staff again—remove them from the property."
Jonathan bowed. "Understood."
He turned to the women. "While your rooms are being serviced, you may remain in the lobby or leave the premises."
Zumi looked back at Sasha and Jaylnn.
His voice was polite.
Measured.
And unmistakably final.
"Enjoy your stay," he said. "Let's not repeat old habits."
The message underneath was clear.
This ends here.
Without another glance, Zumi turned and walked toward the casino with the girls.
Behind him, Sasha and Jaylnn stood frozen—
watching the man they once looked down on disappear into a world they could no longer touch.
They crossed the street together.
The moment Emily stepped off the curb and looked up, she froze.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The building before her didn't feel real.
The Kogane Casino towered over the block like a modern shrine—black marble and obsidian panels cut with flowing seams of molten gold. Every edge gleamed under the night lights, not flashy, but commanding, as if the structure itself decided who was worthy of entering.
And above it all—
A colossal golden eagle, wings spread wide across the upper façade.
Its head bowed slightly toward the street, feathers sculpted in such detail they seemed ready to move. Warm amber light poured off its wings, bathing the entrance in a glow that felt equal parts divine and dangerous.
Emily whispered, barely audible.
"…this is where I'm going to work?"
Zumi glanced down at her, a faint smile on his lips.
"Yeah."
She stared at him like he had just casually told her he owned a country.
Leafa's eyes shimmered as she took it in, hand slowly lifting to her chest.
"This place feels… alive," she murmured. "Like it's rooted in ambition."
Gia stood still, scanning the structure with sharp, professional focus—then shook her head in disbelief.
"You built this… this fast?"
Hina blinked several times, eyes wide, quietly amazed.
"It's beautiful…"
They approached the entrance.
The name KOGANE burned above the doors in deep-carved bronze letters, heavy with authority. As the revolving glass doors turned, warm light spilled outward, and the scent hit them instantly—sandalwood and vanilla, rich and intoxicating.
Emily took one hesitant step inside.
Then another.
Her jaw dropped.
The interior unfolded like a palace dipped in indulgence—red velvet walls, trimmed in gold so polished they reflected the chandeliers overhead. Massive crystal fixtures hung like frozen stars, refracting light across the polished marble floors. Every surface gleamed with purpose, nothing excessive, nothing wasted.
Slot machines lined the floor in elegant rows, their lights pulsing softly, harmonized rather than chaotic. Roulette tables spun beneath focused spotlights, dice clicking softly against felt. Dealers in black suits and gold ties moved with smooth precision, voices calm, professional—controlled.
Music drifted through the air—low jazz, warm and confident—blending seamlessly with laughter, clinking chips, and the murmur of deals being made.
Emily turned slowly, trying to absorb everything at once.
"I've… I've never even been inside a place like this," she said quietly.
Zumi leaned slightly toward her.
"You'll fit in just fine."
Above them, private balconies curved along the upper levels, partially veiled behind gold latticework—rooms meant for high rollers, quiet deals, and shadows where power preferred to sit unseen.
Gia exhaled slowly.
"…Sebastian wasn't exaggerating."
Leafa smiled softly, eyes glowing with pride—not just for the building, but for the man beside her.
Hina clasped her hands together.
"It's perfect."
Emily looked at Zumi again—really looked at him.
The man who had promised her a job.
The man who had once walked these same streets with nothing.
And now—
She stood inside his empire.
Her heart raced—not with fear—but with awe.
Zumi slowed his steps as they walked deeper into the casino, his eyes lifting toward the chandeliers, the velvet-and-gold interior, the perfectly balanced chaos of wealth and control.
"…It looks even better from the inside," he admitted quietly.
That was when the atmosphere shifted.
From across the floor, a man approached—unhurried, confident, wrapped in presence alone.
Sebastian Gale.
The crimson shirt, open at the collar.
Gold jewelry catching the light with every step.
Sunglasses low on his nose, sharp eyes watching everything at once.
The laughter near the tables softened.
Dealers straightened.
Security subtly adjusted their posture.
Active yakuza—men who knew exactly who Jonathan and Sebastian Gale were—fell silent.
Sebastian stopped in front of Zumi.
And then—
He bowed.
Not deeply.
Not submissively.
But with acknowledgment.
The kind that said: you are worth my respect.
Every staff member who saw it understood instantly.
This wasn't just the owner.
This was their boss.
"Welcome to Kogane," Sebastian said smoothly. "It's an honor to finally receive you in person."
Zumi inclined his head in return.
"You've done incredible work."
Sebastian smiled faintly—high praise, coming from him.
Zumi gestured toward Emily.
"This is Emily. I promised her a barista position. I want her started today."
Sebastian turned to her, gaze sharp but not unkind.
"Understood."
Emily straightened instinctively.
"Yes, sir."
"You'll do fine," he said calmly, already assessing her. "Follow me."
He then turned back to Zumi.
"The VIP staff lounge is ready for you and your ladies. Anything you need—press a button, and it will be handled."
With that, Sebastian gestured toward the elevators and personally escorted Emily toward the third-floor bar, explaining procedures as they walked—her first day already unfolding inside one of the most exclusive casinos in the city.
Zumi watched them go for a moment.
Then he turned back to the others.
They moved into the VIP staff lounge—rich leather seating, private views of the casino floor, sound dampened just enough to feel detached from the chaos below.
Leafa leaned slightly against him, eyes glowing with quiet pride.
"She's going to remember this day forever."
Gia crossed her legs, scanning the floor like a strategist.
"This place is already running like a machine."
Hina smiled softly.
"And Emily looks… happy."
Zumi settled back into the seat, watching the empire he had built hum effortlessly around him.
And for the first time since entering—
He allowed himself to simply sit, surrounded by the people he trusted, in a place that finally felt like the beginning of something unstoppable.
A few minutes later, Sebastian returned.
He stopped a respectful distance away and bowed again—brief, precise.
Zumi lifted a hand, calm.
"Sit."
Sebastian took the seat across from him, posture relaxed but alert, like a man who never truly stood down from command.
"How are things going?" Zumi asked.
Sebastian didn't hesitate.
"Better than projected," he said. "Traffic is high, but controlled. The crowd is exactly what you wanted—wealthy CEOs, investors, executives, and influential figures. Mostly men, as expected. They're here to gamble, but more importantly, they're here to be seen."
Zumi nodded slightly.
"As instructed," Sebastian continued, "all frontline and back-end security staff are combat-trained. Seasoned yakuza, vetted personally. Every one of them operates under the Dojima family name. Loyal. Disciplined. No loose ends."
That earned a faint smile from Zumi.
"The card system?" Zumi asked.
Sebastian's expression sharpened—this was the part he enjoyed.
"Running flawlessly. Guests are using the Kogane Cards for everything—gaming, drinks, private rooms, premium services. The integration between casino purchases and gambling has been seamless."
He tapped the table once with a finger.
"And here's the important part. Once a guest reaches their preset limit, they're given the option to transfer personal funds directly into their card."
Zumi's eyes narrowed slightly, interested.
"The moment they do," Sebastian said, "those funds legally become casino holdings. They're no longer outside money—they're house money. If they win, we pay out. If they lose…"
He shrugged.
"…the casino keeps it. Clean. Legal. Elegant."
Zumi let out a quiet breath of approval.
"Nice."
"We've already had several high-rollers exceed their limits," Sebastian added. "None complained. In fact, they appreciated the discretion. It feels exclusive. Controlled. Like they're being trusted."
Zumi leaned back, arms resting comfortably.
"Any issues?"
"None so far," Sebastian replied. "A few egos tested the staff. They were corrected—politely. No incidents escalated. The atmosphere is smooth, confident. People feel safe… and watched."
"Good," Zumi said. "That's exactly how it should feel."
They spoke for several more minutes—logistics, staff rotations, VIP flow, private rooms, and contingency plans. Numbers were exchanged, projections confirmed, small adjustments made.
By the end of it, the casino wasn't just operating.
It was alive.
Sebastian stood once more.
"If you need anything, I'll be nearby."
Zumi nodded.
"Keep doing what you're doing."
Sebastian bowed again and walked away, disappearing back into the moving gold-and-shadow machine of the casino.
Zumi glanced toward the third floor, where Emily had started her first shift, then back to the floor below—tables spinning, cards flipping, fortunes rising and falling.
Everything was moving.
Exactly as planned.
The moment Zumi's Fiery Eyes, Golden Pupils slid across the casino floor, something caught.
Not the glitter.
Not the money.
Not the noise.
A presence.
It came from one of the poker tables near the eastern wing—subtle, folded inward, disciplined to the point of invisibility. To anyone else, she was simply another dealer: calm, professional, beautiful in a quiet, unassuming way.
To Zumi… she was a concentrated distortion in reality.
A spirit lineage.
Dimensional warping.
And not latent.
Mastered.
His fingers tapped the arm of the chair once. A discreet chime summoned assistance.
Sebastian appeared almost instantly, bowing low.
"Close that poker table," Zumi said calmly. "And ask the dealer to join me."
Sebastian's eyes flicked toward the table for half a second. Even he felt it now.
"Understood."
The game was paused with practiced grace. Chips were cleared. Guests escorted away without complaint. And moments later, she ascended the private staircase toward the VIP lounge.
She entered without hesitation.
The woman stood tall—about average height—but carried herself like space itself deferred to her. Long chestnut-brown hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, catching the gold light of the casino and reflecting it like polished silk. Her eyes were a warm hazel, sharp but controlled, the kind that never missed details.
She wore a sleeveless black dress—elegant, functional, tailored for movement rather than display. Subtle rose tattoos bloomed along her shoulders and upper arms, inked with extraordinary precision, as if each petal marked a sealed boundary rather than decoration. A gold-accented belt cinched her waist, its design faintly reminiscent of ancient sigils.
Jewelry was minimal—thin gold chains layered at her collarbone, a single pendant resting just above her sternum. Her hands bore no rings, but the way she held them suggested power kept deliberately sheathed.
She bowed politely.
"Sir."
Zumi gestured to the seat across from him. "Please."
She sat.
Outwardly, her expression remained neutral—professional, unreadable.
Inwardly—
Another rich man surrounded by women, she thought coolly.
A playboy. Power and money rot them all the same. Probably thinks he can buy anything—people included.
She kept her face smooth. Courteous. Distant.
Zumi listened.
Every thought. Every judgment. Every carefully buried assumption.
And instead of reacting—
He smiled.
Not predatory.
Not amused.
Just… curious.
"You're very disciplined," he said gently. "Most people don't manage to hide something like that so completely."
Her eyes sharpened a fraction.
"I don't know what you mean, sir."
"Of course you do," Zumi replied, leaning back slightly, relaxed. The women around him—Gia, Leafa, Hina, Serafina—remained silent, watching with interest rather than hostility.
He continued, voice calm.
"You're not just a dealer. You're a walker between spaces. Someone who bends distance without tearing it. Someone who understands thresholds."
That finally did it.
Her composure cracked—not visibly, but dimensionally. The air around her shifted, infinitesimally.
"…How do you know that?" she asked, voice still even, but guarded now.
Zumi met her gaze—no lust, no condescension, no ownership.
"Because I know what it means to carry power and pretend you don't," he said. "And because I don't call people up here to judge them… or to use them."
A pause.
Then, softly—
"I call them because I want to understand them."
For the first time since she entered the room, her assumptions hesitated.
And somewhere deep within her spirit—
Space itself leaned closer to listen.