The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 515

Marlena’s eyes widened slightly. “We spent five hundred million dollars on advertising alone,” she said.

“But the return was massive. With almost all of Prussia participating, we made no less than twenty billion this round.”

Alex smiled faintly. “So after subtracting advertising costs and the Bluthelm acquisition, we’re still deep in profit.”

“Exactly,” Marlena confirmed. “What about the third competition? If we open betting again with Phantom, we could earn several more billion.”

Alex shook his head. “Phantom doesn’t have a driver.”

“But you do, sir,” Marlena said carefully. “If you pilot it yourself, that would be a guaranteed win.”

Alex chuckled. “Tempting. But no. It stops here.”

He straightened, his tone turning cold and final. “We don’t need trouble with Eisenwall. That’s bad for business. Let Phantom lose. Bluthelm and Eden Group need to lie low for a while. That fits us perfectly.”

“As you wish, sir,” Marlena said, bowing her head as Alex turned and walked out.

When Alex returned to the class reunion hall, chaos greeted him.

Tables were overturned. Glass lay shattered across the floor.

Tobias was down.

He lay sprawled on the ground, blood streaking his face.

“Don’t you dare feel proud about that cheating stunt earlier!” Ragnar roared.

He grabbed Tobias by the collar and hurled him into another table. Wood cracked on impact.

“You think winning the second competition makes you somebody?” Ragnar shouted, contempt dripping from every word.

He drove his fist into Tobias’s face. “Make sure Phantom doesn’t enter the third competition. Keep it down. Keep it quiet.”

Ragnar kicked him hard. “When this tournament is over, you’re selling Bluthelm to me. I’ll tear Phantom apart right in front of you, with everyone watching.”

“I will never sell it to you,” Tobias said, spitting blood onto the floor.

Ragnar leaned in close, slapping Tobias’s cheeks hard. “You don’t want to sell? Then wake up. You still owe me twenty million. Pay it today—or refuse—and I’ll make sure your entire family ends up six feet underground.”

Tobias was a low-ranking noble—a disgraced count one step away from losing his title. Standing before the son of Duke Eisenwall, he didn’t dare fight back, even as humiliation crushed him.

He could only bleed.

“Third competition,” Ragnar roared. “If Phantom dare to appear, I swear I will kill you. Do you hear me?”

For Ragnar Eisenwall, victory was not optional. Eisenwall had to win the annual mobile suit tournament. Especially this year.

His family had placed the responsibility directly on his shoulders.

For three straight decades, Eisenwall had dominated the competition. That legacy could not break under his watch.

If Phantom won the third competition, Bluthelm would take the overall title.

And Ragnar?

His father would hang him upside down—figuratively, or worse.

Ragnar grabbed Tobias by the collar, breath hot with panic. “You heard me!?”

Tobias stared at him, blood sliding down his jaw. “You sound scared.”

“I’m scared of you?” Ragnar snarled. He grabbed a bottle of wine. “Why don’t you just die here!” He swung it straight at Tobias’s head.

That was enough.

Alex had seen all he needed. He released his aura.

Before the bottle could connect, an invisible force slammed into Ragnar.

He felt it instantly—like a colossal predator fixing its gaze on his life.

Pure, animal terror crushed him.

He screamed, lost control of his body, and collapsed hard onto the floor. His pants darkened as fear overwhelmed him.

The room froze.

No one spoke. No one moved.

Tobias didn’t look back.

He bolted out of the reunion hall, heart pounding, and ran straight for Marlena’s room.

He slammed his fist against the door.

Marlena opened it, her expression calm and unreadable. “You’re bleeding,” she said.

Tobias wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Yes,” he replied flatly.

“I’ve been beaten, threatened, and nearly killed in the last ten minutes.”

“And?” Marlena asked coolly, stepping aside to let him in.

“A deal,” Tobias said. “I want to make a deal with you.”

Marlena laughed, slow and delighted. “A deal?”

She looked him up and down, taking in the blood, the bruises, the barely contained rage. “You show up half-beaten, clearly not thinking straight, and now you want to sign a contract?”

She smiled wider. “That’s my favorite kind of client.”

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