Chapter 208

In a sterile office overlooking Manhattan’s financial district, the Guardian stared at his computer screens with growing rage. Red error messages flashed across multiple monitors, each one marking another failure in his carefully orchestrated plan. Bloomberg, CNN, Fox News, The Wall Street Journal - every major outlet that should have published his fabricated evidence about Victoria Kane was now showing system errors.

His hands trembled as he typed frantically, trying to regain control of the media distribution network he’d spent months infiltrating. But every command was blocked, every file upload rejected, every communication pathway severed.

“No, no, no,” he whispered, his voice echoing in the empty office. “This can’t be happening.”

The Guardian pulled off his black mask, revealing a face twisted with fifteen years of hatred and obsession. His graying hair was disheveled, his eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights, and deep lines carved by stress and anger marked