The meeting with Daigo Sumeragi was arranged swiftly, the venue carefully chosen for its discretion and high security. A private lounge, nestled in the upper echelons of a Keiretsu stronghold, sat above the sprawling city like a fortress in the clouds. The room was sleek and modern, with dark wood accents and minimalist decor. The faint scent of imported tobacco mingled with the subtle undertones of expensive whiskey, a testament to the exclusivity that defined the venue. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city buzzed below, oblivious to the delicate power plays unfolding above.


    Daigo Sumeragi sat at the head of a low, polished marble table, his posture relaxed yet alert. His expression was neutral, but his eyes—dark and calculating—held a glimmer of curiosity. He didn''t speak at first, merely observing Ash as he took his seat across from him. The silence stretched for a moment before Daigo broke it, his voice low and smooth, like velvet over steel. "You reached out with urgency, Shirogiri. That intrigues me."


    Ash placed a small encrypted data drive on the table between them, its sleek surface catching the light as he slid it forward with deliberate calm. "I thought you''d appreciate a warning before your own execution."


    Daigo''s fingers drummed against the edge of the table, the sound sharp in the quiet room. His eyes never left Ash''s face. He gave no outward sign of surprise, but his interest was palpable. "Interesting choice of words. Continue."


    Kenshiko''s voice crackled in Ash''s earpiece, but she remained silent, allowing him to steer the conversation. Ash leaned forward, his tone measured, the weight of the moment sinking in. "I have intelligence confirming an assassination attempt on you. It''s already in motion. Another faction within the Keiretsu has deemed you a threat. If you don''t act, you won''t leave your next meeting alive."


    Daigo let the words sink in, his face unreadable, his gaze unwavering. The silence that followed was thick with tension, as if the very air in the room held its breath. Then, a smirk tugged at the corner of Daigo''s lips, one that carried the faintest hint of amusement, as though Ash were an amusing puzzle to solve. "And I assume you''re not warning me out of goodwill. So tell me, Ash—what''s your play here? Are you angling for gratitude, or something more?"


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    Ash met his gaze without hesitation, unwavering. "That depends on you. If you survive, you''ll remember who kept you alive. That puts you in my debt. If you dismiss me, and this attempt succeeds, you won''t be around to regret it. Either way, I win."


    For a brief moment, Daigo''s composure faltered, the smallest flicker of something in his eyes—a shift in perception, a moment of recognition. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Ash had positioned himself as either a savior or a superior—there was no middle ground, no room for negotiation. Daigo''s mind was already working, calculating, evaluating.


    Daigo exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled before his face as he processed the situation. "You''re calculating, I''ll give you that. But let''s say your intel is correct. How do I know you''re not behind it? That this isn''t some elaborate move to place yourself above me?"


    A slow, knowing smirk curved Ash''s lips as he replied with quiet confidence, "Because if I wanted you dead, you''d already be dead. And if I wanted power over you, I wouldn''t be giving you a choice."


    The words hung in the air like a challenge, bold and undeniable. Silence stretched between them, the weight of Ash''s statement sinking in. Daigo, one of the most formidable heirs to the Keiretsu throne, was being outmaneuvered—not through brute force, but through the delicate art of control. Ash wasn''t fighting for power in the traditional sense—he was shaping the game itself.


    Daigo''s eyes narrowed slightly, but a chuckle escaped his lips, breaking the tension. He shook his head in amusement, a rueful smile tugging at his mouth. "You play a dangerous game, Shirogiri."


    Ash leaned back, his posture casual but his eyes sharp. "And yet, you''re still sitting at my table."


    Daigo''s smirk didn''t fade, but there was something new in his eyes—an unmistakable glint of respect, however reluctant. He wasn''t used to being played, but he recognized when someone else was holding the strings. "I''ll investigate this. If you''re right, then you and I will have more to discuss."


    Ash stood, his movements fluid, as he turned to leave. "I''ll be waiting. Let''s see if you make it to our next meeting."


    Without another word, he walked out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him with a soft, final click. The cool air outside felt like a breath of freedom after the intensity of the conversation. Ash didn''t look back, but he knew that Daigo would be left to ponder the power shift that had just taken place. The game wasn''t just beginning anymore—it was already his to control.