I'm Trying To Go Broke, So Why Do I Keep Getting Richer?!-Chapter 211: Disappearance and Intruder

Yang didn’t wait for an answer. Unlike Ulen, who moved like the summer breeze and utilized a gentle mana lift to carry his guests, Yang was a creature of blunt force.

He didn’t offer a hand; instead, he simply reached out and grabbed Leo by the back of his collar as if he were a lost kitten.

Leo felt his feet leave the ground, dangling uselessly as Yang braced his legs against the earth.

"Hold your breath," Yang grinned, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. "And try not to bite your tongue."

BOOM!

Yang propelled himself forward like a falling meteor launched from a railgun.

Leo’s vision instantly blurred, filled with shades of blues and greys. They weren’t flying; they were falling upward, streaking across the sky with such speed that the wind felt they were trying to rip off Leo’s face.

He tried to squint, but the force pinned his eyelids back. Just as his lungs began to scream for the oxygen the rushing wind was stealing, they reached the peak of their arc and began to descend.

They slammed into the base of the mountain range. Dust rushed up in a massive curtain around them. Yang let go of the collar, and Leo tumbled forward, hands and knees hitting the dirt as he gasped for air, his stomach doing somersaults.

"Welcome," Yang’s voice rose, sounding entirely unaffected by the transcontinental leap.

Leo struggled to his feet, wiping the dust from his eyes. He looked up, and his breath caught again, this time for a very different reason.

Unlike Ulen’s city, which utilized magical barriers to mask its existence, there was no stealth here. There was only a massive, intimidating gate carved directly into the rock of the highest peak.

Two giant statues of armored warriors, each at least fifty feet tall, stood guard on either side of the entrance.

Their stone eyes glowed as if they were alive and looking at them. They held swords the size of warships, crossed like giving a warning to any who would dare approach without an invitation.

"Ulen built a city that hides behind curtains and dreams," Yang said, his voice filled with pride as he walked toward the gate. "I built a city that dominates. I built a city that survives."

He didn’t knock. He didn’t use a key. He simply balled his hand into a fist and slammed it against the obsidian gates. The impact rang out like a cathedral bell. For a second, nothing happened. Then, with a heavy vibration like that of shifting tectonic plates, the gates began to open.

As the heavy stone opened, Leo’s jaw dropped. If Ulen’s city was a dream of a high-magic future, light, and delicate, Yang’s creation was its absolute opposite.

"This is the Iron Heart," Yang announced, throwing his arms wide to gesture toward the sprawling metropolis within the valley surrounded by a mountain range.

"Amazing, isn’t it?"

The city certainly looked more sturdy than the one Leo had seen earlier. Every building was constructed from dark basalt, reinforced with bands of glowing reinforced meteorite stones.

It was filled with contradictory charm. It looked modern in its infrastructure, yet medieval in a certain sense.

In the absolute center of the city, rising from a circular plaza of white marble, stood a giant tree.

Its bark was the color of bronze, and its leaves had a dull metallic luster. It was taller than any of the surrounding buildings, its roots diving deep into the ground.

Leo spent the next three hours wandering the streets. He observed every nook and cranny, from the heavy-duty water filtration systems to the way the residential districts were tiered for maximum defensive capability.

If this city existed on Earth, it would be hailed as the pinnacle of architectural achievement, a dream city for many.

Unfortunately, in the realm of pure beauty, it visually paled in comparison to the breathtaking elegance of Ulen’s city. Yang’s city was a fortress; Ulen’s was a magical fantasy.

"So," Yang whispered, sneaking up behind Leo and leaning in close enough. "When are you telling Ulen that he lost? When do I get to see the look on his ugly face?"

Leo smiled wryly. How do you tell a man who can leap mountains that his masterpiece came in second place? He looked at Yang’s expectant, almost childlike expression of pride and felt a little guilty.

Leo leaned in and whispered back, matching Yang’s tone. "Look, if it were entirely up to me, I’d hand you the trophy right now. This is a masterpiece of engineering. I mean, what is Ulen’s city in comparison to this? A glass bubble? This is the Iron Heart!"

"Hah! I knew it!" Yang burst into a loud laughter that shook the nearby windows. He slapped Leo on the back, nearly sending him sprawling into a fountain. "I knew you had an eye for quality!"

"Unfortunately," Leo continued quickly, regaining his balance, "the final decision isn’t actually in my hands. It’s a matter of protocol."

Yang’s laughter died down, replaced by a confused frown. "Protocol? What are you talking about? You’re the boss."

"Well, yes, but for a project of this magnitude, the decision is handled by a secret jury," Leo lied, his voice becoming serious. "They are elite experts in inter-spatial urban development and magical-industrial aesthetics. Top secret."

"Even I don’t know all their names. They’ll be the ones reviewing the data and deciding the winner. But don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll see the ’charm’ of the Iron Heart just as I have."

Leo patted Yang’s massive shoulder, giving him an encouraging nod before turning on his heel. "Anyway, I have a lot of paperwork to prepare for them! Can’t keep the experts waiting!"

He began to walk past Yang, desperate to escape before the warrior started asking for the jury’s addresses.

There was, of course, no secret jury. Leo was the judge, jury, and executioner of this competition, but he had no intention of being around when the verdict was delivered. He preferred his bones uncrushed.

"You’re right!" Yang shouted after him, his confidence returning in a surge. "Anyone with a brain would know my city is better. I’d win regardless of who judges! Hey, wait! Shall I take you back the fast way?"

Leo’s face went pale at the thought of another meteor flight. The memory of his stomach hitting his throat was still fresh.

"N-not needed! I need the exercise!" Leo called back, increasing his pace to a full sprint. He eventually found his way back to the outskirts where Ulen was waiting.

With a graceful wave of his hand and a blue light, Ulen transported Leo back to the central hub with a sensation as gentle as falling asleep on a cloud.

....

One week later, the results were announced, and Ulen had taken the top prize for innovation and aesthetics.

With the competition concluded, the gates of both cities were officially opened to the public.

Property prices skyrocketed as the elite of the space sector clamored for a piece of the new world.

As expected, the peace didn’t last long. On the morning the results went live, Yang barged into Leo’s executive office, his footsteps cracking the floor tiles.

He was there to demand the names of the secret jury so he could, in his words, ’personally check their brains for damage after opening their skulls.’

But the office was empty. Leo had already vacated the planet.

In his place, a holographic projector sat on the desk. It played a pre-recorded loop of Leo looking utterly devastated.

The hologram lamented, wiping an imaginary tear. "I am beyond furious. The jury’s decision is a travesty! I argued until I was hoarse, but they wouldn’t listen."

"I’ve left the planet in protest because I simply couldn’t stand to see my favorite city lose. We are both victims of bureaucracy today."

Yang stared at the flickering blue image, his fist trembling. He wanted to be angry, but Leo’s grief took the wind out of his sails.

He sulked for a few days, grumbling about clueless experts, but eventually, came to terms with it.

Months passed. The two cities exploded into prosperity. Situated in close proximity to the most famous bank in the sector, the planet became a haven for the ultra-wealthy.

Businessmen from Earth and aliens alike bought up land, treating the planet as a high-security vacation home.

Industries followed the money. While Leo maintained a strict policy that no corporation could own the land, he allowed long-term leases for factories and research hubs.

Malls, luxury boutiques, and high-end transit lines wove the two cities together into a global economic powerhouse.

Eventually, demand grew so high that work on a third and fourth city began. This time, Yang and Ulen were forced to work together.

The only catch? Ulen was appointed as the Chief Architect due to his previous victory. The bickering between the two legends became a staple of planetary news, but the results were undeniable.

....

While the planet flourished, Leo himself became a ghost. He had kept his promise to Trent, granting him full leadership of the bank’s daily operations.

Leo remained the leader in name only, leaving every major financial and political decision to the branch manager.

Initially, Leo could be found tucked away in his private office, accessible only to his inner circle. But as the months rolled on, even those closest to him lost track of him.

He stopped attending meetings. He stopped answering messages. His last communication had arrived over thirty days ago.

"Sir, should we really not expand our branches into the other space sectors?"

The question came from a nervous newly-hired intern. He was looking at Trent, who was currently sitting in Leo’s oversized leather chair, staring out at the bustling cityscape of the capital.

Trent sighed. It was the question of the year. The bank had enough capital to dominate the entire sector, yet Leo’s orders had been absolute. No expansion. Stay on this planet. Do not spread the roots.

"Let’s wait a little longer," Trent answered, his voice weary. "We do it when the boss says the time is right, and not a second before."

Just as the words left his lips, the heavy, soundproofed doors to the executive suite swung open. A man stepped inside.

He wore a dark, form-fitting suit and a charcoal-grey mask that obscured his features. He walked with an unnerving casualness, his hands tucked deep into his pockets.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Trent stood up, his bulky, muscular frame rising over the desk as he pushed his chair back with a violent screech.

"How did the guards let you in here without clearance?"

The man didn’t answer.

Trent’s expression darkened.

"Guards!" he called out.

Silence.

"Guards! Get in here now!" Trent roared again, his hand reaching under the desk for a concealed alarm. He pressed it, but the familiar red light failed to activate.

Without waiting another second, Trent charged. He didn’t go for the masked man. He rushed past him, tearing the doors open to look into the main hallway of the executive wing.

The sight that greeted him made his blood turn to ice.

Dozens of people, security elites, high-level secretaries, and visiting dignitaries, were lying across the marble floor.

They were slumped over their desks, leaning against walls, or on the ground like discarded dolls.

"No..." Trent whispered, a cold blade of dread piercing his heart.

He ran to the nearest fallen guard, a veteran named Marcus.

Trent’s massive hands reached for Marcus’s throat, terrified that he would find the cold signs of a corpse. He pressed his fingers against the throat, bracing for the worst.

Thump... thump... thump.

Trent froze. He moved his hand to the man’s chest. It was rising and falling. He leaned in closer, his ears catching a faint whistling sound.

Marcus wasn’t dead. He was snoring.

"They... they’re just asleep?" Trent exhaled. He checked the next person, a secretary. Same thing.

He turned slowly toward the masked man, who was now leaning casually against the office doorframe, tossing a small, glowing green seed into the air and catching it with ease.

"You," Trent growled, his muscles bulging beneath his suit as he prepared for a fight. "What did you do to them? If this is a heist, you’ve picked the wrong planet to die on. I’ll wake them up with your screams."

The masked man didn’t flinch. He didn’t reach for a weapon. Instead, he let out a low, melodic chuckle.

"Relax. They are simply sleeping," the man said, his voice muffled by the mask but carrying a hint of a smirk. "You really shouldn’t overreact like that. High blood pressure is a silent killer, you know. It’s not good for your health."