Chapter 87: Clean Sweep

"Forty percent of zero is zero, Blake."

Blake’s smile froze. The gold pen hovered in the air.

"What did you just say?" Blake asked.

Evren’s dark eyes locked onto Blake.

"Did you honestly believe I walked in here to hand over forty percent of my profits to Prescott’s leftover parasites?" Evren asked. "You sat there puffing your cheap cigars, thinking you could corner me with a petty credit line and a pile of rocks? You thought you were getting forty percent? You’re not even getting four."

Blake’s face flushed bright red, veins bulging along his temples. He slammed the gold pen onto the table so hard the cap cracked.

"You little street rat!" Blake roared, standing up from his chair. "You dare mock me?! If you don’t sign that agreement right now, our credit line is canceled! Our rail cars will dump that flux in the dirt! Your furnaces will seize up, your workers will riot, and you’ll be crawling back to us begging for mercy by Friday!"

"Sit down, Director Blake," Mikay said calmly, stepping up to the center of the table.

Mikay opened the thick red-sealed legal binder, laying a certified municipal court order directly over Blake’s contract.

"Yesterday at two o’clock," Mikay announced in a clear, official voice, "City Hall and the High Court of Veridia finalized the Emergency Industrial Liquidation Decree under Docket 404. Under Section Twelve, Subsection B, all non-voting minority equity tied to the insolvent Prescott criminal syndicate is subject to immediate statutory redemption if the holders attempt bad-faith operational extortion against declared municipal utility assets."

The three local merchants turned pale, looking at the red wax court seal.

"What... what does that mean?" one of them stammered.

"It means," Mikay said with a cold grin, "the High Court has already appraised your eighteen percent equity at distress liquidation value... a certified fifty percent discount off pre-insolvency valuation. Your shares aren’t worth one hundred and eighty million dollars anymore; they are priced at exactly ninety million dollars."

Blake let out a shrill, mocking sneer. "Section Twelve requires an immediate, simultaneous liquid wire into the municipal commerce escrow portal! You can’t execute a compulsory redemption on paper alone! You need ninety million dollars in cleared cash right this second, or the decree is completely void! You don’t have ninety million liquid sitting in this room!"

Mikay didn’t argue. He tapped his tablet, which was already wirelessly linked to the large presentation screen mounted on the mahogany wall.

The screen lit up with the official High Court Commerce Escrow Portal, showing the pending settlement docket for Prescott Heavy Smelting:

[HIGH COURT COMMERCE ESCROW ACCOUNT #404-PHS — PENDING DEPOSIT: $90,000,000.00 USD]

"The court escrow account is open and waiting, Director Blake," Mikay said with a calm smile.

Evren reached into his pocket, pulled out his smartphone, and scanned the encrypted QR code on Mikay’s tablet.

Three light taps of his thumb.

BEEP.

Instantly, the wall screen flashed from yellow to bright emerald green:

[HIGH COURT COMMERCE ESCROW PORTAL — WIRE CONFIRMED]

[REMITTER: APEX SOVEREIGN CONGLOMERATE (SOVEREIGN ACCOUNT #001)]

[BENEFICIARY: HIGH COURT COMMERCIAL ESCROW (DOCKET #404 — 18% EQUITY REDEMPTION)]

[ESCROW DEPOSIT RECEIVED: $90,000,000.00 USD IN FULL.]

[LEGAL STATUS: 18.00% MINORITY EQUITY OFFICIALLY EXTINGUISHED.]

[APEX SOVEREIGN CONGLOMERATE CURRENT HOLDING: 100.00% SOLE EQUITY.]

At the same moment, Evren’s phone vibrated in his pocket with his private banking confirmation:

[ACCOUNT DEBIT: -$90,000,000.00 USD | REMAINING BALANCE: $10,605,197,542.50 USD.]

Silence filled the boardroom.

The three local merchant directors stared at the verified court decree on the wall, their mouths hanging open, their faces completely devoid of color.

Ninety million dollars. Deposited into court escrow in three seconds.

Mikay tapped his tablet with a satisfied smile. "The ninety million dollars is officially locked in the High Court’s escrow vault. You gentlemen can submit your claims to the court registrar to collect your payout checks in three business days. But as of this exact second, your shares are canceled. You no longer own a single percentage of this foundry."

Blake stood frozen with wide bloodshot eyes as he stared at the screen. The cigar slipped from his trembling fingers, landing on the rosewood table and scorching a dark ring into the varnish.

"Ninety... million..." Blake whispered. "Liquid... instantly...?"

Evren stood up, smooth and effortless, sliding his hands back into his pockets.

"Your shares are redeemed," Evren said calmly, looking at the four ruined men. "Your contracts are void. You no longer have any standing in this building, this company, or this city."

Blake stumbled back against his chair. "The... the flux shipments! You fool, without our Eastern flux reagents, you still can’t smelt! Your ores will turn to slag!"

Amber took a step forward, looking down at Blake with contempt.

"Let us worry about that."

Amber raised her right hand and clicked her fingers twice.

The double doors swung open again.

Four burly Apex security officers marched into the room.

"Gentlemen," Amber spoke. "You have exactly sixty seconds to collect your coats and briefcase. The security team will escort you through the service elevators straight to the street. If any of you are still on this floor in sixty-one seconds, you will be thrown down the emergency stairwell."

The three merchant heads didn’t even hesitate. They scrambled out of their chairs, knocking over documents and trampling their own coats in their desperate rush to reach the door.

Blake stood alone, his suit crumpled and his arrogant smirk gone. He tried to speak, but when he met Evren’s gaze, he couldn’t get the words out.

With his head hung low in humiliation, Blake clutched his briefcase to his chest and scurried past the security guards.

Click.

The boardroom doors slid shut behind them.

The room was quiet once again, save for the faint hum of the city far below.

Mikay adjusted his glasses, looking at his gold wristwatch with a broad, beaming grin.

"Seven minutes and forty seconds, Boss," Mikay chuckled, tucking the red binder under his arm. "Clean sweep. Apex now owns one hundred percent sole equity of Prescott Heavy Smelting. Zero outside interference."

Evren turned toward the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, looking out over the sprawling foundries and industrial chimneys of Sector Three.

"Clean out this office," Evren instructed calmly. "Get rid of the cigars and Prescott’s furniture. Install our own operational team by noon."

"Consider it done," Mikay nodded. He glanced at his tablet. "Next on the docket: One o’clock at the Sector Two deep-water shipping port. Chief Harbor Master Harlen is still refusing to unload the four international ore freighters."

Evren zipped his dark jacket up halfway and smiled faintly. "Let’s go visit the harbor."