21: Eve of the Duel

The moon, not yet full, hung like a silver hook in the sky, its cold light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Sterling family study, casting long, distorted shadows. An unsettling silence had descended upon the entire city, the kind of heavy quiet that precedes a storm. It was a tangible pressure, a weight on the chest that made every breath feel deliberate.

Jack stood before the window, his reflection a faint outline against the sprawling city lights. The metropolis glittered below, a galaxy of circuits and ambition, yet tonight, it felt like a hunting ground. He could almost feel the predatory gaze of his rival, Kyle, fixed on this very mansion. The psychological warfare had already begun.

It started subtly. An hour ago, the main power grid to the Sterling estate flickered and died. The emergency generators kicked in with a low hum, plunging the opulent mansion into a sterile, half-lit state for a disorienting three seconds. It was too precise to be a coincidence. Then, a report from Marcus: one of the security vehicles on a routine patrol route had been T-boned by a garbage truck that ran a red light. The driver was miraculously unharmed, but the message was clear—I can reach you anywhere.

The latest move was more direct, more insidious. His mother-in-law, Susan, let out a startled cry from the living room. Jack was by her side in an instant. Her face was pale, her hand trembling as she held out her phone. It was an anonymous text message. No words, just a single, high-resolution photograph of Hailey, his sister-in-law, leaving a yoga studio earlier that day. A red crosshair was digitally painted over her heart.

"What is this? What is this, Jack?" Susan’s voice was a tight knot of fear and anger. "Is it that Vance lunatic again? I thought you dealt with him!"

Jack took the phone. His thumb brushed against the cold screen. He felt a familiar, chilling rage begin to coil in his gut, but his expression remained a mask of calm. He knew this was Kyle's doing, a classic predator tactic: isolate the target's support system, create panic, and force an emotional error. The duel was tomorrow night, and Kyle was trying to break him before he even stepped into the arena. This was its own kind of countdown. He had to secure his family and stabilize the chaos, all without revealing the true, supernatural nature of the conflict.

"It's just a scare tactic, Susan," Jack said, his voice a low, reassuring baritone. He deleted the message and handed the phone back. "The security around Hailey has been tripled. Marcus is handling the car accident. This is the last gasp of a cornered animal. They're trying to rattle us because they know they've lost."

He projected an aura of absolute control, a psychological counter-offensive. It seemed to work. Susan, though still shaken, took a deep breath and nodded, her trust in him overriding her fear.

He retreated to the study, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The mask of calm fell away, replaced by the cold focus of a hunter. He closed his eyes, shutting out the physical world, and turned his attention inward. The system interface bloomed in his mind's eye, a cool, blue light against the darkness. His recent triumph over Preston Vance and the Apex predators had yielded a massive influx of "Predator Points." He had been saving them for this very moment.

He navigated the system menu, his intent sharp and clear. 'Purchase Skill: Tactical Rehearsal.'

A torrent of data flooded his consciousness. It wasn't just information; it was a complete sensory simulation. The world dissolved and reformed. He was standing on a windswept rooftop, the city air sharp with the smell of ozone and exhaust. Across from him stood Kyle, a brutal silhouette against the moon. The simulation began.

In his mind, he fought Kyle. Again and again. A hundred times. He experienced every possible opening gambit Kyle might use: a savage, straightforward charge; a feint to the left followed by a crippling blow from the right; an attempt to use the rooftop environment to his advantage. He felt the phantom pain of simulated claws tearing at his flesh, the jarring impact of blows that would shatter bone. With each "death," he learned. He analyzed Kyle’s rhythm, the subtle shift of weight before an attack, the flicker of intent in his eyes. The system processed it all, breaking down Kyle’s fighting style into raw data and probabilities.

When he opened his eyes, the study was the same, but he was different. The raw, primal fury was still there, but now it was tempered, honed into a razor's edge.

The door opened, and Catherine entered, holding a tablet. Her face was etched with worry, but her movements were composed, her presence a source of quiet strength in the chaotic house.

"I had Aria pull everything we could find on Kyle's past fights," she said, her voice low. "Most of it is underworld rumor, but three accounts are detailed. He's not just strong, Jack. He's vicious. He plays with his opponents."

She showed him the screen. It detailed three brutal takeovers of rival factions. One account described Kyle tearing a man's arm from its socket. another spoke of him using a rooftop air conditioning unit as a bludgeoning weapon.

Jack didn't look at the gory descriptions. His eyes scanned the tactical breakdowns. After a moment of silence, he pointed a finger at the screen. "Here," he said, his voice devoid of any doubt. "He overcommits on his right hook, leaving his ribs exposed for 0.8 seconds. And here, when he dodges backward, he always plants his left foot first, creating a moment of instability. And this..." He traced a line on the tablet. "...his favored finishing move, the pounce from above. It's powerful, but it leaves him blind to a low-angle counter-attack for a full second. He has three fatal flaws."

Catherine stared at him, then at the tablet, her eyes widening. His analysis was so precise, so confident, it was as if he had already fought the man a dozen times. The deep-seated anxiety in her chest began to dissolve, replaced by a burgeoning sense of awe. She had seen his intelligence in the boardroom, but this was something else entirely—the lethal certainty of an apex predator.

Their tactical session was abruptly shattered by the study door flying open. Hailey burst in, her face a mess of tears and smudged mascara. She was waving her phone like a weapon.

"Jack! You liar! You fraud!" she wailed, her voice cracking with hysteria.

Jack, Catherine, and Marcus, who had just entered to give a report, all turned to stare at her.

"The 'Oni Solution' stock!" Hailey sobbed, shoving the phone in Jack's face. The screen showed a stock chart in a terrifying nosedive, a sheer cliff of red. "It plummeted the second the market opened! Some rumor about a failed clinical trial! I put everything in! Everything! I'm ruined!"

She collapsed into a chair, her dramatic sobs echoing in the tense silence of the room. Jack glanced at the stock chart. It was indeed a catastrophic drop. He then looked at the clock on the wall. 10:05 AM, Tokyo time. Right on schedule.

"I'm going to have to sell," Hailey choked out between sobs. "I'll lose it all, but it's better than nothing... I trusted you!"

Just as her finger was about to tap the "Sell" button, the red cliff on her screen halted. A massive green line suddenly appeared at the bottom, shooting straight up. It was a single, colossal buy order that absorbed every sell order in its path. The price didn't just stabilize; it rocketed. Within sixty seconds, it had climbed back to its opening price, then kept going, triggering the market's circuit breakers as it hit the daily limit up.

Hailey's sobs hitched in her throat. Her jaw hung open. She stared at the screen, her tear-filled eyes blinking in utter disbelief. Her portfolio value, which had been bleeding into oblivion seconds ago, was now flashing a vibrant, life-affirming green, showing a 20% gain.

Jack's phone buzzed. A text from Ben Carter. It simply said: "Phase 1 complete. They took the bait."

Jack had anticipated this. He knew the forces behind Oni Solution would try a classic pump-and-dump, releasing fake news to shake out small investors before the real announcement. He'd instructed Ben to wait for that exact moment, then use a fraction of the "Alpha Wolf Fund" to execute a hostile takeover of the stock's liquidity. They hadn't just bought the dip; they'd bought the entire ocean floor.

Hailey slowly turned her head from her phone to Jack. The tears were still on her cheeks, but her expression was one of stunned reverence, like a primitive tribesman witnessing a god making fire.

"How..." she whispered.

"Patience is the key to investment, Hailey," Jack said calmly, taking a sip of the cold tea on the desk.

The transformation was instantaneous. Hailey leaped from her chair, her despair replaced by explosive, manic joy. "Oh my god! You're a genius! A stock market god! I'm rich!" She threw her arms around Jack's neck. "I'm starting a fan club! The 'Global Brother-in-Law Fan Association'! And I'm the president!"

Catherine and Marcus exchanged a look of weary amusement. The tension had been broken, albeit in the most chaotic way imaginable.

Later, as the hour of the duel approached, the house fell quiet once more. Catherine found Jack in the master bedroom, where he was fastening the last buckle on a sleek, dark combat suit. It was woven from a silver alloy, light but incredibly durable, designed by a specialized division of Sterling Industries.

She didn't plead with him to be careful. She knew words like that were meaningless now. Instead, she walked over to him, her expression one of regal resolve.

"Aria has secured the communications and surveillance network around the Oni Group tower," she said, her voice a steady anchor. "We're piggybacking on a municipal 'City Light Grid Upgrade' test. Everything is legal and firewalled. You will have eyes and ears."

She wasn't just a worried wife; she was his partner, his queen, managing her side of the battlefield. She reached out and adjusted the collar of his suit, her fingers brushing against the cool metal. Her touch was firm, grounding.

She looked him straight in the eye. "Don't be careful," she said, her voice low and intense. "Be victorious. Go and take back the key to our city."

He nodded, a silent promise passing between them.

He moved like a phantom, slipping out of the mansion and into the waiting vehicle. Alone. This was a battle for alphas, and it had to be faced alone. He put in a single earpiece. Aria's voice, crisp and digital, immediately filled his ear.

"Alpha, I'm in. All surveillance is under our control. Perimeter is clear." A pause. "But... I'm detecting an anomalous energy signature on the rooftop. It's not Kyle. Jack, there's something else up there."

Jack's eyes narrowed as the car sped toward the glittering spire of the Oni Group tower, a modern-day coliseum piercing the heart of the city. The game had just changed.