The private room was suspended inside the ocean, walls of thick glass separating the VIPs from the endless blue outside. Schools of fish swam lazily by, rays of sunlight piercing the water, highlighting the sleek bodies of sharks, turtles, and gliding rays. The glass walls acted as furniture in their own way—curved panels forming cozy booths, high-backed chairs, and tables that reflected the shimmering marine life. Every glance outside offered a new spectacle: a giant manta ray drifting across, a shoal of silver fish scattering in unison, and the slow, majestic sway of kelp forests in the currents.
Inside, the dancers moved with the same fluidity as the ocean outside. Pole dancers spun and climbed, their bodies glinting under strategically placed spotlights that cut through the soft blue glow of the ocean. Their movements mirrored the rhythm of the sea—twisting, bending, flowing like waves themselves. Some leaned against the glass walls, letting the marine life glide behind them, giving the illusion that the fish and rays were part of the performance. Others swung around poles in the center, reflecting in the glass like living, liquid sculptures.
James lounged in one of the curved glass booths, calm and composed, watching the dancers spin and sway. His men sat around him, drinks in hand, the shifting reflections of the ocean casting patterns over their faces. Daniel sat across, scrolling through his phone, a girl perched on his lap feeding him grapes slowly, letting him feel the rhythm of the room as much as the pulse of the music.
The whole scene was mesmerizing—an underwater world of movement and light, the ocean itself a living backdrop, the dancers like currents flowing through the room, and the glass making the boundary between man and sea feel almost nonexistent.
"It seems you do know how to enjoy life. I should learn from you," Han Min Woo said dryly as he settled across from them.
"I should congratulate you too," James taunted, voice smooth. "Finally didn't lose a race, huh?"
Han Min Woo laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. "How are you planning to split the prize money?" he asked.
"What's the rush?" James replied, still leaning back. "You don't see me rushing. No winner yet, so they'll play again until someone earns it." He shot a glance at Luis.
"Sure, why not. It would please me," Luis said, a calm smile playing on his lips.
"Don't listen to him," Han Min Woo warned Luis. "Don't trust this idiot."
James rolled his eyes, waving a hand dismissively. "Tsk… how do you expect to make money if you're so narrow-minded? Risk makes money. And if anyone tries tricks—like sabotaging my racers or destroying their cars before a race—you'd better be ready."
Luis leaned back, gaze sweeping over the room, noting the dancers moving like water currents, the muted glow reflecting off their sequined costumes, the soft clinking of glasses, the whispered conversations of minor players in the corners. "Enough. You two argue like children. We should redo the race," he said, voice smooth yet carrying weight. "But to make it fair, we'll do it in the Blue Ivy underground club."
A hush fell over the room. James raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that club?"
"A magician never reveals his secrets," Luis replied slowly, his smile unwavering. The tension tightened like a net around them; even Daniel's casual glance at him stiffened. "Would you answer if I asked how you got Prim Nathan Carter as your racer, or how you've hidden your illegal land business from the authorities?"
"Fine. We'll play there," James said after a moment, pouring himself a drink and taking a slow sip. Han Min Woo simply smiled, watching Luis as he nodded once and stood, glancing around the watery room one last time.
"Tsk… seems the table has changed," Han Min Woo murmured, following Luis out.
James waved for his men to destroy every trace of what had happened. Seems now I have to take him seriously, he thought, swirling the wine in his glass. Where does Han Min Woo find people like this? The idiot thinks he has a backing… if only he knew.
"He was threatening to expose you if you didn't go to the Blue Ivy underground club," James' right-hand man said.
"No," James said with a low chuckle, his eyes scanning the room. "He wasn't threatening. I ran a background check. I was trying to get information, but he handed it to me freely. Had I pushed, he could have unearthed my entire family history. Timing matters; push too far, and you make enemies you can't control."
Daniel leaned back, observing the dancers swaying like tidal currents and the minor players whispering behind translucent panels. "I'm interested in his backing. He didn't need threats; that would have been beneath him. What he did was simple: let the pieces move themselves. His interest is in someone near me. He could have destroyed us all—but instead, he nudges, sets things in motion. Prim's curiosity will handle the rest. Lazy as he is, he'll show up. That was always the plan. Threats are wasted effort; he's manipulating without lifting a finger. That's how insignificant you appear in his eyes."
Daniel, still with a girl on his lap, sipped his drink coolly. "I can't feel my legs. Get up." She obeyed, and he dusted off his uniform.
"Young master, want to spend the night with me?" the girl asked, voice a mix of flirtation and hope.
"No thanks," Daniel said lightly, smirk faint, brushing past her. "I don't like wasting sperm." He left the room, footsteps echoing against the watery tiles, leaving James to his thoughts and the quiet swirl of the ocean-themed private room.
Leaving the underground club, Luis stepped out of his sports car. At the same moment, another sleek sports car rolled to a stop nearby. Han Min Woo slid out, brow furrowed. "Why did you come down? Is… anything wrong?" he asked, confusion lacing his tone. Luis didn't answer; he didn't even spare him a glance.
A moment later, four more sports cars screeched to a halt in front of them. One of the passenger doors opened, and a sharply dressed attendant hurried over to Luis' car, bowed respectfully, and slid in. The four cars fell in behind him like shadows falling into line, and the convoy moved with flawless precision. Then, a second wave of vehicles appeared: a black limo at the center, flanked by three armored jeeps, one at the front, two guarding the sides and rear. Each vehicle gleamed under the streetlights, tinted windows hiding the occupants, engines rumbling with controlled menace.
Han Min Woo froze, eyes widening at the logo on the limo—the Blaze family emblem. His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard. Luis didn't hesitate; he strode to the limo, opened the door, and disappeared inside. The convoy moved off, leaving a stunned silence behind. His men spilled out, confusion written across every face. "The rich… they really do know how to spend," Han Min Woo muttered, voice low, shaking his head. "I never knew he had bodyguards inside the underground club… and I'm sure James didn't either." With a flick of his hand, he gestured for his men to return to their cars. They obeyed silently, unsettled but cautious.
Inside the limo, the hum of the engines was nearly drowned out by quiet conversation.
"Sir, like you said, the moment we entered this country, everything was on high alert. Even rivals with allies have blocked every chance for us," one of the bodyguards reported, his tone precise.
Luis leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Don't worry. I've dealt with everything. Have those men keep an eye on us, don't let anyone step back. They're already watching—thinking I'm involved with Prim, whose family rules here. They'll be observing us closely." He chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous. "I just have to get close to the Carter family so they step back. If not… we'd have to carve our way in. And I don't want to do that. I've seen something far more interesting."
His phone vibrated, and Luis picked it up without breaking eye contact with the darkened street outside. "We have a problem. Someone hacked our main base," Frank Neo, his right-hand man, reported.
"And what were you doing?" Luis asked, lips curling slightly. "Someone hacked our base… tsk. Is it the Black Rose Gang? I doubt it. Let's retrace our steps—did anything unusual happen before this?"
"Yes, someone sent out a payment for investigating your personal gun," Neo said.
Luis paused, tongue brushing his lip as the memory hit him—the race club, the driver trying to take him out, the gun sliding from his seat to his hand, the shot he fired with precision. He chuckled, low and amused. "Don't worry. I already know who did it. The person only searched for the gun, right?"
"Yes, that was the only thing. Wait—the person who posted the request on the dark web, without expecting answers, was the one who hacked our computer," Neo confirmed.
Luis exhaled, eyes narrowing, lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. "Hmmm… I'm curious who the hacker is that Prim paid to breach our base. And I'm even more curious about this Prim." He cut the call, closing his eyes for a brief moment, letting the hum of the limo and the rhythm of the convoy settle around him.
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