Some radiated sharp, aggressive pressure. Others were calm but deep, like still oceans hiding storms beneath. A few glanced at Mike briefly, their eyes sharp with curiosity, before losing interest.
Jordan led Mike to an empty seat beside him near the front section of the table.
"Sit here," Jordan said calmly.
Mike did so without hesitation, leaning back slightly as he took in the room.
He could feel it now—the weight of real power.
This wasn't a battlefield.
It was a room full of monsters who had survived countless ones.
As Mike settled into his seat, the man sitting directly across from him leaned forward slightly.
He looked to be middle-aged, with neatly combed silver hair and sharp silvery-gray eyes that missed nothing. His presence was calm, but it carried weight.
"So, you're the one Jordan brought," the man said with a polite smile. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is John Mercer, head of the Glorious Merchant House."
