The Heavenly Demon of Terror-Chapter 286: The planning for Downfall of William Yates

[Samuel's POV – Café Table of War]

The clink of cutlery and soft jazz playing overhead couldn't muffle the tension that settled between us like fog on a battlefield. Owen leaned forward, elbows on the table, jaw set like a blade.

"Willam's fortress isn't just his company," he began, tone low and deliberate. "It's a web of off-shore accounts, shell corporations, legal protection, and bought influence. He didn't just ruin Owen's life—he made sure the world never knew what he did."

I nodded, fingers tapping lightly on my coffee cup. "Classic cancer. Grows quietly, spreads deep, hard to cut out without taking a limb with it."

Owen pulled out a small holopad from his coat, tapping the screen to display a map. Multiple glowing red pins spread across Asia, Europe, and the Caymans.

"Here," he said, pointing to a node in Luxembourg. "One of his silent trust funds. Connected to a shell he used to funnel bribe money to disbarred judges and a journalist he paid off to destroy my mother's reputation."

"Did you verify it?"

"Tracked it through his CFO's mistress," Owen replied with a small smirk. "People talk when they think you're just a beast."

Henry finally spoke, sipping his tea. "So we bleed the network, freeze his accounts, ruin his reputation from the inside."

"And when he's weak," I added, "we drop the hammer. Full exposure. Public disgrace. Turn every boardroom ally into a liability."

Owen's eyes glinted. "And I'll be the one to break him—financially, politically, and finally, personally."

"You planning to kill him?" I asked bluntly.

Owen's gaze didn't waver.

"No. I want him to live. To watch everything he built turn to ash. To know the name 'Owen Yates' as the Alpha and Omega of his ruin."

Henry chuckled. "Now that's poetic."

I raised my glass of scotch in toast. "To the long game then. Let's strip Willam Yates down to bones."

Owen clinked his glass with mine.

"To justice... Beast King style."

________________________________________

Owen's POV — Tracking the Luxembourg Account.

Location: Nightshade Bar, Luxembourg City — Late Evening

The Nightshade Bar was nestled in a silent alley behind the financial district—its black façade unmarked except for a single crimson lantern. Inside, the air was thick with smoke, murmurs of deals, and the soft hum of outdated jazz. Exactly the kind of place where secrets thrived.

I slid onto a barstool under a flickering neon sign. My hood was drawn, mask tucked in my coat pocket. I caught the bartender's eye—an older man with an earpiece.

"Dark roast," I said quietly. No sugar. No frills.

He nodded once and turned away. I let my gaze drift to the far corner, where my contact sat: Lina "Cipher" Moreau, a notorious data broker who traded in corporate skeletons. Her fingers danced over a holo-tablet, eyes flicking in the blue glow.

I slid a thin envelope across the sticky wood.

"Access codes," I murmured.

She looked up, lips curling. "You're early. And bold."

"Desperate," I replied. "Need to trace the Jennings Trust flow through FalconRise's Luxembourg node. Now that the vault's burned, they'll reroute through here."

Cipher laughed softly. "Bold and desperate. Fits the bill." She tucked the envelope into her coat. "Give me an hour."

I leaned back. "I'll stay."

---

Forty Minutes Later

Cipher approached, holo-tablet glowing fiercely. "Done."

She tapped the screen, projecting a 3D node-map in midair: a web of glittering lines radiating from FalconRise Ventures into dozens of shell companies, trusts, and shadow accounts—all anchored through this small Luxembourg hub.

"Here," she said, circling a secondary node: "'Silver Gauge Holdings.' It wasn't in the ledger."

I frowned. "What's its purpose?"

"Intermediary for real estate transfers—purchases in Dubai, Vienna, and Shanghai. All under the front of an art investment firm."

I tapped the projection, zooming in. "And who controls Silver Gauge?"

Cipher's lips twisted. "Two trustees: A Belgian banker named Jules Vincent, and Yvette Jennings herself."

My breath caught. "She still funneling money to him?"

"Either she's complicit, or being blackmailed."

I nodded, absorbing the betrayal's scale. "Then our path is clear." I tapped another node. "I want the account credentials."

Cipher hesitated, voice low: "That'll cost you more than your envelope."

I slid another package—this one heavier. "Consider it an advance."

She pocketed it without a word and turned back to her tablet. "Here." She handed me a small data module. "Encrypted. 256-bit. Break it on your end."

I tucked it into my coat and stood. "Good work." I tossed her a nod.

---

Two Hours Later — Safehouse Command Center

My personal terminal hummed. I slid in the module. Lines of code bloomed across the screen like wildfire. I activated Hunter's Protocol, keys flying as I bypassed the encryption.

[Decrypting...]

[Accessing Silver Gauge Holdings – Mainframe Secured]

[Account Balances: $24.7M USD; Transactions Pending: 3]

[Destination Nodes Detected: Dubai Property Fund, Yates Private Equity – Zürich] freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

[Time-Stamped Chains: Continuous since February 2024]

I exhaled. "They've been moving money in six-figure transfers every week."

I clicked the transactions. Each entry was labeled innocuously—"Art Acquisition," "Property Expansion"—but I knew better.

I overlaid this new map onto FalconRise's destroyed node. The web grew more complex, but the pattern was clear:

1. FalconRise (Luxembourg) → Silver Gauge Holdings

2. Silver Gauge → Yates Private Equity (Zürich)

3. Silver Gauge → Azure Horizon Bank (Dubai)

4. Yates PE → Jennings Arts Trust (Vienna)

My jaw set. "He's diversifying. Trying to outpace any single shutdown."

I opened a secure comm line.

"Samuel. Henry. Update," I said.

Samuel's smooth tone came first. "We hacked the Vienna node. Jennings Arts Trust frozen as of ten minutes ago."

Henry added, "Dubai's in sight—once we trace that PE's beneficiaries, the network collapses."

I smirked. "Perfect. I'll take Zürich. Meet me there in six hours."

---

Early Dawn — Zürich Skyline

The sunrise glinted off glass towers as I stepped onto the rooftop of the Yates Private Equity building. Below, the Swiss Alps stood silent—immutable witnesses to the coming ruin.

I activated Beast Instincts briefly—no threats detected. Good. Discretion was key now.

Sliding the biometric data I'd stolen earlier into my implant, I bypassed the security locks on the service door. Down in the vault-level server room, rows of humming drives awaited.

I unplugged the main conduit, shoving in the data module from Luxembourg. A palmprint and retina scan later, I initiated a black-chain purge—a silent kill code that would siphon half the funds into charitable trusts and leave the rest as inaccessible crypto shards.

The drives smoked. Alarms buzzed quietly, but my Infiltrator Cloak shut them out.

Mission Report:

Silver Gauge Holdings node—Neutralized

Yates Private Equity—Fund rerouted

Jennings Arts Trust—Frozen

Global Influence Network—Severed

I straightened my coat. Outside, the Alps caught the morning light.

Mission accomplished.

And as I exhaled, I thought of Owen's final ascent—how close he was to ending the story for good.

"Luxembourg: tracked. Zürich: sabotaged. Next stop: Dubai."

I tapped my comm. "Let's finish this."