The Path Of A True King.-Chapter 6: House Of Cards

Chapter 46: House of Cards

Elijah stepped into the dimly lit gambling den, his polished shoes barely making a sound against the stained wooden floor.

The air was thick with the stench of cheap alcohol, cigarette smoke, and desperation an aroma unique to places like this, where men sought fortune but mostly found ruin.

The room pulsed with murmured conversations, the clatter of dice, and the rustling of cards being shuffled.

Shadows flickered under the weak glow of hanging bulbs, casting a grimy, yellowish hue over the assembled gamblers.

Yet, as Elijah took another step forward, the atmosphere shifted.

Voices hushed. Movements slowed.

Even the dice seemed to roll with more restraint, as if the very air had grown heavier in his presence.

Wary eyes flickered in his direction, some with curiosity, others with unease.

Elijah ignored the stares, his crimson eyes scanning the room until they landed on the man he had come to see.

At the center of it all, behind a cluttered wooden desk stacked with crumpled bills and worn playing cards, sat Ben.

A cigarette dangled lazily from the corner of his mouth, its ember glowing faintly in the dimness.

He looked up, his violet eyes glinting with amusement beneath the dull light.

The smirk on his lips widened as he leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the desk.

"Well, well. Didn’t think I’d see you here in person, boss."

[The Monarch Activated]

[The Monarch] — Suppresses all unnecessary emotions, allowing Elijah to act with unwavering focus. Fear, doubt, hesitation—none of it can cloud his judgment. Though he retains awareness of emotions, they no longer affect his decisions, ensuring absolute resolve.

Elijah pulled out a chair opposite Ben and sat down, his expression unreadable.

"Thought I’d check in."

Ben let out a dry chuckle, fishing a fresh cigarette from his pocket.

"Check in, huh? Ain’t that Kai’s job?" He flicked open his lighter, the small flame briefly illuminating his face with sharp shadows.

Elijah waved off the offered cigarette. "I’m here for a different reason."

Ben arched a brow, lighting his own cigarette before exhaling a slow stream of smoke.

"Figures. You’re not the type to waste time." He gestured vaguely toward the tables around them.

"Everything’s running smooth—no fights, no cheats, and no one’s stupid enough to cause trouble."

Elijah nodded slightly but didn’t respond immediately.

Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly before speaking.

"Then why is there only four thousand coming in?"

The smirk on Ben’s face twitched.

For the briefest moment, something flickered in his expression annoyance, irritation but he masked it quickly.

Taking another drag, he flicked ash into a nearby tray.

"That’s just how it is in a place like this, kid.

We’re in a Tier 4 city.

People barely have money, let alone enough to gamble away.

And this ain’t some high-end casino—just a few card tables, low stakes, no real high rollers.

You’re expecting too much."

Elijah tapped his fingers against the desk once.

Twice.

A slow, deliberate rhythm.

"Not good enough." His tone was calm, yet there was a quiet finality in his words.

Ben shifted in his seat, his easygoing smirk now strained.

"I want this operation expanded," Elijah continued. "More games. Higher stakes. Bigger profits."

He let the words sink in before adding, "And that’s why I’m putting Tristan in charge."

Silence.

Ben’s jaw tensed.

His grip on the cigarette tightened, his fingers pressing against the filter before he let out a slow exhale.

"Tristan, huh?" His voice was quieter now, the usual sarcasm absent.

"So, what? You’re replacing me?"

Elijah’s crimson gaze didn’t waver. "You’re needed elsewhere."

The smirk disappeared.

Ben leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, his tone sharper. "And where the hell is that?"

Elijah didn’t hesitate. "Recycling and processing factories."

Ben blinked. "Recycling?"

"Plastic recycling," Elijah clarified. His voice remained even, measured.

"This city is drowning in trash.

We collect plastic waste, process it, and sell the materials—pellets, sheets—to manufacturers.

Packaging companies, bottle makers, even textile industries use recycled plastic. There’s money in this."

Ben stared at him as if trying to figure out whether he was joking.

Then he scoffed, shaking his head.

"You want me to start picking up trash?"

Elijah shook his head. "I want you to turn that trash into money."

Ben let out a short, humorless laugh. "You serious right now?"

Elijah didn’t blink. "Do I look like I’m joking?" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Ben clenched his jaw, tapping his fingers against the desk.

"You’re telling me we’re shifting from gambling and fights to garbage?" He exhaled, shaking his head.

"Come on, boss. You think anyone’s gonna respect us when they hear we’re sorting through scraps?"

Elijah’s red eyes darkened, his voice dropping an octave.

"Respect comes from power, not the business we run. And I don’t recall asking for your opinion."

Ben’s violet eyes narrowed. "Yeah? And I don’t recall signing up to be a damn garbage man."

"You’re not," Elijah said, his tone unshaken.

"You’re leading the operation, not collecting waste.

You’ll have workers under you. You’re a leader, aren’t you?"

He leaned forward slightly, his presence pressing down on the room. "Then lead."

Ben exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple.

"And why the hell are we even doing this?

Why the sudden interest in recycling?

Since when do we give a damn about cleaning up the city?"

Elijah folded his hands together.

"Because it benefits us.

The city gets cleaner. We profit.

This gives us something legitimate under our name.

You think top gangs survive off petty gambling and street fights?

No.

They own real businesses.

Real industries."

Ben tapped the desk, still visibly annoyed. "And you think this will actually make money?"

"Yes." Elijah answered without hesitation.

"Kai already found a location to start.

There’s more than enough waste to feed the business.

And we have the connections to sell the processed material."

He tilted his head slightly. "You’ve got a head for business, Ben.

That’s why you’re handling this."

Ben muttered something under his breath before sighing.

He took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly. "And if I refuse?"

Elijah’s red eyes locked onto him.

"You won’t."

A long silence stretched between them.

Then, Ben chuckled, shaking his head. "You really don’t mess around, do you?"

Elijah didn’t answer.

Ben studied him for a moment longer before leaning back, sighing through his nose. "Fine. I’ll handle it. But if this doesn’t work, you owe me."

Elijah smirked slightly. "It’ll work."

Ben gave him a pointed look before taking another slow drag. "You better be right."

As Elijah stood up, Ben exhaled. "And who the hell is supposed to do all this work? My guys?"

"No," Elijah said without looking back.

"Your men are fighters.

They stay where they are.

We’re hiring from the surrounding community." He turned his head slightly, a faint glint in his red eyes.

"They’ll think they’re getting a chance at a better life.

And when they gamble their earnings away trying to make a quick buck...

That money comes right back to us."

Ben let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Cold."

Elijah smirked.

"Efficient.