Chapter : 655

Mei Jing, her sharp eyes gleaming with understanding as she immediately grasped the project’s potential for economic warfare. Tisha, her face alight with genuine joy at the prospect of bringing prosperity to the poor coastal villages. Lyra, nodding silently, her mind already calculating logistical chains and resource allocation. Borin and Alaric, his alchemists, bickering over the chemical properties of brine but united in their fascination. Jasmin, his quiet, loyal forewoman, her eyes wide with awe at the scale of his ambition. And Pia, one of Jasmin’s most diligent and trusted assistants, a quiet girl who always seemed to be in the background, taking notes, ensuring everything ran smoothly.

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to be objective. Every single one of them had a reason to be loyal. He had changed their lives, given them status, wealth, and respect beyond anything they could have dreamed of. What could the Altamirans have offered that was more valuable?

Money? Perhaps. But for Mei Jing or Tisha, who were already earning a fortune from AURA’s success, it seemed unlikely.

Ideology? It was possible. Perhaps one of them harbored a secret resentment for the nobility or had family ties to Eldoria. But it felt like a stretch. He had seen no signs of it.

Blackmail? This was the most likely vector. A hidden debt, a family scandal, a past crime. A professional intelligence agency would be adept at finding such levers and exploiting them without mercy. Someone in his circle, someone who appeared loyal on the surface, was likely a prisoner, acting under duress.

This thought offered a small, cold comfort. It was easier to stomach the idea of a coerced ally than a willing traitor. But functionally, it made no difference. The damage was done. His secrets were compromised, and his enemy now had a direct line into his most sensitive operations.

He couldn't simply confront them. An open accusation without concrete proof would shatter his team's morale and drive the true spy deeper into the shadows. He would lose the trust of the innocent and alert the guilty. No, a direct approach was clumsy, the tool of a brute. He needed a scalpel. He needed a trap.

He had to create a situation where the traitor would be forced to reveal themselves. He needed to dangle a new, even more tantalizing secret in front of them, a prize so valuable that their Altamiran handlers would demand they take the risk to acquire it. He needed to control the flow of information, to become the master of the very game of deception being played against him.

A plan began to form in his mind, cold, intricate, and ruthless. It was a plan that would require him to lie to the very people he had come to trust. He would have to perform a piece of theatre, to build a beautiful, glittering illusion for the sole purpose of seeing which of his family would try to steal it.

The bitter taste of the stolen salt was still in his mouth. But it was now mingled with the sharp, metallic taste of vengeance. He would find the snake in his garden. And when he did, he would not just cut off its head. He would follow it back to its nest and burn the entire nest to the ground. The industrialist had been wounded, but the soldier had just been given a new, very clear mission. The war for Project Brine was over before it began. The war for the soul of his own house was just getting started.

The study, once a sanctuary of innovation, now felt like a cage. Lloyd paced the worn floorboards, the familiar scent of old paper and dried ink doing nothing to calm the storm in his mind. The betrayal was a living thing, a coiled serpent in the heart of his operations, and its venom was a slow-acting poison of suspicion that tainted every interaction, every memory. Every smile from a trusted subordinate was now a potential mask, every word of praise a possible lie. It was an exhausting, corrosive way to live, but it was his new reality.

He stopped pacing and forced himself to sit. Panic and paranoia were the enemies of clarity. He needed to be Major General KM Evan now—cold, analytical, and ruthlessly objective. He drew a fresh piece of parchment towards him and began to construct a mental schematic of his own organization, a diagram of trust and access.

At the very top, there was himself. Below him, the circles of access radiated outwards.

Chapter : 656

The innermost circle, the absolute core of his most dangerous secrets, was vanishingly small. He thought of "Project Chimera," the codename for his gunpowder research. It was a secret of such world-altering magnitude that its discovery could plunge the kingdom into a century of war. Who knew about it?

He made a short, precise list.

1. Himself. The architect.

2. Ken Park. The procurer. Ken knew the components—saltpeter, sulfur, charcoal—and the codename, but not the precise ratios or the ultimate application. He was the hand, not the mind. His loyalty was absolute, forged in the fires of a lifetime of service to House Ferrum and reinforced by his witnessing of Lloyd’s impossible power. Ken was not a variable; he was a constant.

3. The Alchemist Trio: Alaric, Borin, and Lyra. The manufacturers. They knew the concept of a "catalytic combustion powder" and were tasked with its creation. They were scientists, consumed by the intellectual challenge. Could one of them be the traitor? He considered it. Borin was too much of a chaotic enthusiast, his loyalty given to the "beautiful art of destruction," not a foreign power. Alaric was a purist, a man whose entire world revolved around the sanctity of precise chemical reactions; the thought of him engaging in something as messy as espionage was almost comical. Lyra… Lyra was the pragmatist. Cool, efficient, and logical. Of the three, she was the most likely to be swayed by a logical, if cynical, argument. But she had also witnessed the power of the White Mask. She knew what he was capable of. To betray him would be an act of supreme foolishness, and Lyra was no fool.

He drew a firm line under that list. The secret of Project Chimera, he concluded with 95% certainty, was secure. The traitor did not have access to his ultimate weapon. This was a critical piece of intelligence. It meant his enemies were blind to the true scale of the revolution he was planning. They were fighting a battle over salt, unaware he was building a volcano.

This realization narrowed the field considerably. The leak had to have come from the next circle of trust, the one that encompassed his commercial ventures: the AURA brand and, more recently, Project Brine. This was his leadership team, the women who had helped him build his empire from the ground up.

He began a new list, his quill scratching softly in the silent room.

1. Mei Jing. His brilliant, ambitious "minister of war." She knew every aspect of the salt project, from the engineering principles to the long-term economic strategy. Her mind was as sharp as his own, and her ambition was boundless. Could that ambition have curdled into betrayal? Did the Altamirans offer her a greater prize than the one he could provide? It was possible. Ambition was a double-edged sword. He had given her power, but perhaps another offered a throne.

2. Tisha. His cheerful, empathetic "minister of diplomacy." It was hard to imagine the ever-smiling, kind-hearted Tisha engaging in back-alley treason. Her loyalty seemed as natural and effortless as her charm. But, he reminded himself, the most effective spies were always the ones you least suspected. Perhaps her empathy was a weapon, her cheerfulness a perfectly crafted mask. A deep, personal connection to an enemy agent, or a hidden vulnerability, could have been exploited.

3. Jasmin. His first recruit. The quiet, timid girl from the kitchens whom he had lifted from obscurity. Her loyalty was born of profound gratitude. He had saved her mother’s life and given her a future. For her to betray him would be an act of monstrous ingratitude. Of all the suspects, she seemed the least likely. And yet, gratitude could be a cage. What if her family was threatened? What if the price of her mother's continued health was his secrets?

4. Martha Junior. One of Tisha’s key deputies, a sharp and competent woman who had quickly risen through the ranks. She managed much of the day-to-day logistics and was present in several of the planning meetings. She was professional, efficient, but more distant than the others. He knew less about her personal life, her history, her potential vulnerabilities. She was a known unknown.

5. Pia. Jasmin’s right hand. A diligent, almost invisible presence. She was always there, in the background, taking notes, organizing schedules, ensuring the smooth operation of the manufactory. Her quiet competence made her invaluable, but also gave her access to a vast amount of sensitive information. She was like the air in the room—essential, but easily overlooked. And the things that are overlooked are often the most dangerous.

He stared at the list of five names. Five women he had trusted, mentored, and empowered. Five pillars of his commercial success. And one of them was a viper.