World Domination Begins With Getting a System in a Modern World Chapter 169: Collapsing Cullen Corp

Edward McCullen paced in his office like a man whose world was built on glass—and he was hearing it crack.

It was nearing midnight. The city outside had long gone quiet, but inside the penthouse-level executive suite of Cullen Corp, silence was an enemy.

A ticking clock on the wall filled the air with unbearable rhythm. Every passing second without an update from his private investigative team was another nail in his corporate coffin.

His phone lay silent on the edge of the desk.

The digital clock beside it flipped: 11:42 PM.

Still nothing.

He dragged a hand across his face, now pale and clammy with sweat. His once-pristine shirt clung to his back. His tie had long been discarded. His blazer was wrinkled and tossed over the leather chair in the corner, forgotten like the calm he once wore like armor.

The empire was collapsing. And worst of all, he didn’t know how.

First, they lost $103 million in potential profit. Then another $50 million vanished today like smoke. Contracts dissolved. Partners vanished. Lawsuits multiplied.

But those were just symptoms. The real disease was still out there.

Sowhere. Soone. Pulling strings with frightening precision.

He forced himself to sit behind his desk and took a deep breath. "Keep it together," he muttered.

But his hands trembled. And a mont later, he snapped.

The tension that had been simring finally boiled over.

In a sudden, violent motion, he slamd his fists into the desk. His laptop toppled. The glass of scotch he hadn’t touched shattered on the floor.

He grabbed a decorative crystal paperweight and hurled it against the far wall with a roar.

It exploded into pieces with a sharp crack.

Just then, the door opened slightly—a cautious creak. It was his executive assistant, Mira, who had stayed late to finalize settlent drafts for one of their legal teams. She had been on her way out.

"Sir?" she asked gently, peeking in.

Edward nearly snapped again. But when he saw it was her, he composed himself—barely.

"Co in," he said, his voice gravelly and low.

Mira stepped inside, still dressed in her crisp navy suit, her eyes scanning the wreckage of the room — the shattered glass, the overturned chair, the chaos of a man unraveling.

"I heard sothing break," she said cautiously. "Is everything alright?"

"No," Edward said flatly. He didn’t look at her at first. Just sat there, breathing heavily, eyes locked on the glowing cityscape beyond the window. "Nothing is alright."

She hesitated. "Do you... need sothing?"

He finally looked up. And the expression on his face was raw, desperate and hollow.

"Yes," he said after a pause. "I need to feel like I’m in control of sothing."

The silence stretched between them.

Mira didn’t move for a mont. But then, slowly, she closed the door behind her and stepped closer — not out of obligation, but out of a wordless understanding.

She approached the desk, setting her bag aside. Her gaze never left his.

"You’re not going to break," she said softly.

But he didn’t answer. Instead, he reached out — not harshly, but firmly — and pulled her into his lap.

His hands road her waist like he was anchoring himself to the last stable thing in his world.

Their mouths t, fast and quiet. Hungry. Mira’s blazer slipped from her shoulders as she leaned in, her fingers sliding under his loosened collar.

He whispered sothing into her neck — low and bitter.

"I built an empire... and it’s crumbling beneath ."

Her only answer was a soft sigh, and the sound of his belt unfastening.

But just as his hands moved to tug her closer, his phone rang.

Edward cursed under his breath. Mira hesitated, her breath hot against his cheek.

"Give a second," he muttered.

He answered the call with a voice half-grounded in reality, half-consud by the mont.

It was Kade, the investigator.

"We have sothing," Kade said crisply. "Check your inbox. It’s important."

Edward’s eyes flickered back into focus. "Hold on."

He nodded at Mira, who was now breathless and straddling him, her blouse half-open, hair undone. She raised an eyebrow, questioning.

Then Edward’s phone buzzed.

He snatched it up like a drowning man reaching for a rope.

Private Line: Kade (Lead Investigator)

Finally.

He answered imdiately. "Talk."

"Check your inbox. We’ve just forwarded the latest package. It’s still early, but the pattern is erging."

Edward didn’t wait. He opened his email client with shaking fingers and clicked the top ssage. A file attachnt loaded—a dossier marked Interference Profile 002.

Inside was a na.

Jas Zolomon. A photo and a brief file.

Nothing about it made sense. The man wasn’t affiliated with any firm. No legacy background. No notable family. Just... money. Lots of it. Recently accumulated. No known business or lobbying connections.

"Who is this?" Edward asked, voice low.

"Still investigating," Kade said. "But he’s owner of the number that Alina Vale called when we were tracking her.

Edward’s eyes narrowed.

"So he’s behind her."

"It’s a strong lead," Kade said. "We’ll confirm soon."

Edward leaned back, staring at the screen like it was a riddle he couldn’t solve.

A young man with no background. No institutional power. No pedigree. And yet...

He was moving like soone with influence. Acting with the precision of soone who knew what he was doing.

"What’s the source of his wealth?" Edward asked.

"Still unclear. But it’s clean We’re working on gathering more information on him."

"I want everything. I want to know what this boy eats for breakfast. I want his passwords. His contacts. Even his goddamn blood type."

"You’ll have it," Kade said. "Expect a full file within the next six hours."

Edward ended the call and dropped the phone on the desk.

He looked up at Mira, who hadn’t said a word.

"Sorry you had to see that. Continue what yiy were doing and make feel good," he said, finally regaining a asure of calm.

"It’s okay, sir," she said quietly, as she pulled back two inches, "I’m used to pressure. Just... be careful. This doesn’t look like sothing you can control anymore."

Edward laughed, bitterly.

"No," he said. "But I’ll still win."

He rose, adjusted his shirt cuffs, and looked down at the dossier again.

Jas Zolomon.

He’d never heard the na before. But now, it was burned into his mind.

And if this young upstart thought he could dismantle Cullen Corp without consequence...

Then Edward McCullen would show him exactly what it ant to wake a giant.

Edward stood alone, staring out the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the dark, glittering city below.

His empire was bleeding.

But he wasn’t dead yet.

Edward enjoyed what he feels to be his last mont with his secretary, enjoying her to his heart content, as the night grew old.

***

The next morning, Jas woke up to a call from Mr Harrington.