Zenith Online: Rebirth of the Strongest Player-Novel

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Inside the hotel suite, everyone carried on with their own matters, most of which involved indulging in the magnificent amenities throughout the grand hotel.

After Altair and Allan's return, Kieran urged everyone to mingle amongst themselves and enjoy the freedom available within these lavish walls.

It would end soon enough.

Listening to the suggestion of their leader, everyone enjoyed themselves in different ways.

Nemean and Bastion frolicked in the lobby for a bit before causing a riotous scene in the indoor swimming area. Expected but not welcomed. Allan was forced to make a "donation" to apologize for their rowdy display.

Alice remained inside her room, studying essential administrative matters. Though she wouldn't fill the position forever, she saw benefits in expanding her managerial skill set.

Lillian… she stuck to her evident duties as Kieran's concerned nurse.

Shockingly, though, the development between Sithik and Cygnus took everyone by surprise, with Sithik offering to have her accompany him to several places in the hotel.

Altair sat in a motionless, meditative position while breathing circularly in a controlled pattern.

Kieran, too, performed some kind of meditation where his body fell into a slightly inactive state. Virtually all of his body's energy was directed toward healing. 

He couldn't control his blood flow or anything supernatural like that, but monitoring his breathing, limiting his physical activity, and searching for that peculiar presence being an Inhuman engendered created a remarkable effect.

Add in his natural regenerative abilities, sprinkle on some X-hancer gulping, and voila! Kieran healed up in record time. 

It took some moving about, including a light spar with Altair. Frighteningly soundless and eerily precise. Their movements were almost like ghosts, true specters attempting to master the ways of the silent wraith.

Panting softly and rotating his arm to loosen his shoulder, Kieran smiled.

"I have absolutely no advantage over you in speed. In fact, you're slightly faster than I am. Any quicker, and you'd be a real threat to me."

"I find that so hard to believe with your unperturbed smile. You're fresh off of an injury and barely breaking a sweat. Do you want to try that again? This time… make your words more believable?"

Kieran couldn't help but grimace. 

His words were the truth. Altair was indeed faster than him. His lean, spindly body was built for slippery speed; quickness was his undisputed forte. A prime prospect for a silent killer, a masterful assassin. 

Kieran, on the other hand, possessed a more versatile physique, favoring none but welcoming all. He could generate tremendous raw power and frighteningly swift strikes, but inscrutable technique was his true forte.

Brutal, overwhelming, and violent technique.

In fact, Kieran was always at a disadvantage in a spar. He had to limit the lethality of his every attack to ensure the safety of his opponent. Otherwise, the outcome could be grim.

Then again, Kieran was uniquely familiar with the nuances of Altair's combat style. He could "see" many upcoming movements before Altair thought to execute them. This knowledge was the culmination of years of fighting, thousands of surprise spars, and hundreds of close-call death matches with Altair. 

But this also made Kieran the most efficient whetstone for Altair. Steel sharpened steel. And it was almost like he was fighting a mirrored version of himself. More refined, yes. But still Altair's style nonetheless. 

"You're doubting yourself far too much. Go up against any opponent at your supposed level, and you'll see just how fast—how dangerous you are. If you find a way to incorporate cunning trickery into your assault… I fear for any opponent you challenge or are challenged by."

Altair's lip curled, an echo of a smile just faintly bleeding through his callous indifference. Embers of pride and achievement flickered behind those silver eyes, kindling something within Altair usually kept at depths unknown.

Sometimes, receiving praise from the icon of a goal was enough motivation to ignite a greater fervor within a person.

However, before everyone gathered back in the hotel room, Kieran brought Altair and Allan together.

"That meeting. Let's go attend it. After all, we need the account live and active for our next step. We can't let our plans be inhibited."

Lillian caught wind of their plans to step out, listening around a sharp corner while drying her hair, yet she didn't voice her dissent. She was in the presence of an inexorable man. She had no design to stop him.

Besides, several of his large bruises has already dissolved, leaving him more than capable of taking care of himself.

…

A few short hours later, the trio—Kieran, Altair, and Allan—stood before a large edifice. Its breadth and exquisite stone exterior spoke of vast wealth. A gilded effigy of forthright opulence.

Yet, the large structure didn't seem obnoxious or out of place in this environment.

Minence City was the gathering place of transaction, the pith of the nation's economy, and an unspoken gallery where flaunting was the art on display.

When the environment itself was the personification of ostentation, the epitome of inordinate lavishness, it was hard to contribute to the garish scene.

Atop the building, so high up it required Kieran to crane his neck to see it, the sign read: "Caelum Financial Group" in a grand, stylized font.

"Let's get this over with."

Kieran strode forth, pushing into the revolving doors, followed by Altair and Allan. A resonant chime spread through the lobby, its sound greeted with disinterest. But Kieran knew that disregard was misleading, a trick of the environment.

He could feel several hidden gazes trained on him, inspecting him, ready to act at the slightest inconvenience.

Without receiving direction from the two behind him, Kieran continued with a measured, unabated gait.

Up until he was stopped at the elevator by a hefty man, with a large scar bilaterally splitting his dark hair across his skull. His sharp gaze betrayed his attitude.

"This is not a place where you can carelessly prance up to elevators. State your business or be removed."

Kieran eyed the fellow, documenting his many flaws. The man had an ungainly process to how he moved his large body, but it worked to his benefit. It made him tricky to read and harder to gauge.

As much as might was cherished in this field, Kieran didn't wish to cause a commotion. At least six more people like this lay in wait, ready to strike with a vengeance.

Maybe he could take them out with no issue, but that would only cause a larger headache on the lower floors.

Calmly, Kieran spoke.

"I'm sure there is someone waiting for me below. Why make enemies when you can make money? Why cause commotion when you can cause awe?"

Listening to the message, the large man's expression changed, rigidly stepping aside. Those two questions Kieran posed were in fact the secret entry code to the floors below—to the realm of Caelum Lenders.

Inside the elevator, Kieran and the others remained silent. This particular elevator only had one button and it couldn't be pressed. It was a kind of smart technology that detected permitted individuals and guided them to the floor of usury.

When the elevators opened with a melodious ding, Kieran was welcomed by a sight reminiscent of a speakeasy concept bar. Luxurious leather chairs littered the floor, and bottles of expensive alcohol sat upon stained wooden shelves. 

The air smelt of burnt fragrances with a musk of incense.

This outer area could be ignored, and it was. Kieran was more interested in the happenings behind the antique wooden doors directly across from the elevator.

Before he could approach, though, the heavy door opened with a basso noise akin to a rumbling. 

A rotund man with a tendency to gorge himself stepped over. His disingenuous red eyes locked onto Kieran behind a golden monocle. His navy, almost black hair was slicked back with a disturbing amount of gel.

But more disturbing of all, his entire body seemed to jiggle and vibrate with the sound of his husky voice.

"Mr. Silver. You too. I've been expecting you but not this quickly. A practitioner of the virtues, I might presume?"

Behind Kieran, Allan recoiled. His disgust and distaste toward this man were apparent from the way he looked at him. The guy didn't even have the decency to remember his name!

Kieran simply ignored the question asked, also ignoring the levity present in the man's tone.

"You haven't introduced yourself. Are those the manners of a man looking for new business?"

"Looking? When did Caelum Lenders announce that they're looking for new business? It is not us that approached you, but you that came to us. I suggest you mind your tone."

Kieran smirked. 

On the surface, Caelum Lenders seemed like it was a bustling business, but in truth… it wasn't. 

The corrupt business was predicated upon the cooperation of shady government officials. But their venal mannerisms were not free. It all cost a pretty penny, and there was a network of them awaiting payment.

"A business like this is always awaiting injections of liquidity. New business is a golden egg for you guys. Now, we could bust each other's chops longer… or we can settle the matter and knock this out the way."

The disgustingly fat man grinned, a disturbing one where demented and strange greed blazed in his eyes. 

"Gregory Nicholls of Caelum Lenders, happy to be at your service, young man."