Read The Almighty Dominance Novel (Alexander Leonhart and Sophia Lancaster) by Sunshine Updated 2025 -26 - The Almighty Dominance Chapter 506

The Almighty Dominance Chapter 506

Tobias fought the system relentlessly, tearing through every circuit, every logic chain, every safety layer. Minutes dragged by. Sweat soaked his brow.

Everything was flawless.

Every system reported normal. Every parameter sat comfortably within optimal range.

And yet, the machine had fallen out of the sky.

Ragnar laughed again—sharp, cruel. “Face it, Tobias. You won’t finish a mobile suit this year either. Same failure. Same ending.”

Alex spoke casually, as if changing the subject. “Sofina, did you hear about the fake driver incident at Eden Group? You should be careful about things like that.”

“What?” Sofina turned to him, confused.

“There was a driver who pretended to work for Eden Group,” Alex continued calmly. “Turned out he was a competitor’s spy. Once inside the vehicle, he installed a virus that triggered a controlled malfunction. Nearly caused a fatal accident. It was meant to sabotage one of Eden Group’s most important clients.”

“Alright,” Sofina said, nodding, still unsure why Alex was telling her this.

But Tobias froze.

His eyes snapped to a different subsystem—the driver authorization software.

He dug in fast.

And there it was.

Unauthorized code. Hidden commands. A false failure protocol uploaded through driver access—designed to make the mobile suit pretend to malfunction.

“Damn it,” Tobias hissed.

The driver had sabotaged the Phantom from the inside.

His hands moved with razor precision now. No hesitation. He revoked the driver’s authority instantly, wiped the infected layer, and activated full AI control. Command rerouted to the autonomous combat core. One directive issued:

Finish the lap.

On the stadium screen, the Phantom shuddered.

Then its systems roared back to life.

Thrusters ignited. Stabilizers locked. The mobile suit surged upward and shot forward—accelerating hard, faster than before, faster than anyone expected.

But it was already too late.

The Phantom had lost too much time. There was no catching the others. Everyone understood what that meant.

Last place.

“Tobias,” Ragnar said lazily, “you paid someone to sit inside your machine and stab it from the inside?”

Ragnar chuckled, unimpressed. “Careful, boy. That’s a serious accusation coming from someone whose useless mobile suit just fell out of the sky.”

“My suit didn’t fall,” Tobias replied quietly. “It was betrayed.”

Ragnar shrugged. “That’s business.”

His smile twisted. “Betrayed or not, you lost because you can’t manage your own people. Blame your stupidity. Blame your weakness. You’re a loser with no money and blind loyalty. Too many holes. Too easy to exploit.”

Tobias understood the truth in it. In war, every weakness was exposed. Every opening exploited. Life in Prussia was about winning by any means necessary. Betrayal only found those foolish enough to leave themselves vulnerable.

Still—even with the Phantom finishing last—it wasn’t a complete loss.

For the first time in years, Bluthelm had completed a full lap without collapsing.

That alone felt like survival.

Nearly an hour later, the first stage of the three-stage tournament came to an end.

Then Belinda stood.

“Tobias,” she said sharply, “you’re part of the reunion staff. You’ll handle the auction with me this time. We’ll open the gifts one by one, estimate their value, and if anyone wants them, we start bidding.”

She reached for the first box.

“Let’s start with this one.”

Belinda opened it. Inside lay an old scroll. Her face twisted with disappointment.

“What is this?” she scoffed. “Who brings something this old?”

Someone spoke up. “Can’t you tell? It’s a painting.”

“Obviously.” Belinda clicked her tongue and unrolled the scroll. One glance, and she laughed coldly.

“What the hell is this? Some rotten old painting? It’s worth maybe one or two hundred dollars at most.”

Tobias stepped forward. “Not everything is measured by money. What matters is sincerity—the goodwill behind the gift.”

“Oh, spare me your sanctimonious nonsense,” Belinda snapped. “Stop associating with classmates like this. They had the nerve to bring a cheap sketch that wouldn’t even cover their meal here.”

She squinted at the artwork. “Is this supposed to be abstract?”

“No,” the classmate said quickly. “It’s symbolic.”

“Symbolic of what?”

He hesitated. “History. Heritage.”

Belinda laughed. “That explains why it looks like something history already tried to forget.”

She lifted her chin. “Now tell me who brought this, or I’ll check the security cameras.”

A classmate raised his hand awkwardly. “Uh… that’s mine. You know what people say—it’s an antique. It could be valuable. It’s been passed down through generations.”

Belinda laughed outright. “Oh please. Do you think your ancestor’s underwear is an antique too?”

She waved the scroll aside. “Next time, bring something actually expensive instead of this trash.”

“Oh, what an asshole you are,” the man shot back. “We’re not obligated to give expensive gifts.”

“Exactly,” Belinda fired back instantly. “People like you are why this reunion runs at a deficit. Have some shame.”

“He came with good intentions,” another classmate argued. “What’s wrong with that? Can’t you show a little kindness just for him showing up?”

“For what?” Belinda scoffed. “For losing money?”

“And kindness? Please. I don’t exist to make you feel good.”

Tobias’s expression darkened. His patience finally snapped.

“Belinda, are you really that much of a snob?”

She whirled on him, furious.

“Tobias Bluthelm, how dare you say that?” Her voice cut like steel. “Me? A snob?” She sneered. “If I were really a snob, why would I be engaged to you—a pauper?”

“Don’t forget,” she continued coldly, “I’m your fiancée. I’m the one holding your company together while Bluthelm crawls toward bankruptcy.”

Tobias froze. His mouth opened, then closed. Embarrassment burned across his face. He had nothing to say.

“Fine,” Belinda said icily. “Who even wants this ugly painting? Let’s start at one hundred dollars.”

The bidding began.

Slow. Painfully slow.

One hundred. One-fifty. Two hundred. The price crawled upward like a dying snail, finally stalling around four hundred.

Alex leaned toward Sofina and lowered his voice. “You should bid on the painting.”

“Why?” she whispered back.

“I’ve seen that painter’s name before,” Alex said calmly. “At the Paradise Hotel. The founder there obsessively collects antique works. That painting is worth at least twenty thousand.”

“What?” Sofina’s eyes widened.

“Bid,” Alex said. “Then sell it to Paradise Hotel. I promise they’ll pay well.”

Sofina raised her hand. “Five hundred dollars.”

Belinda shot her a scornful look. “Do you even have that kind of money? Why don’t you pay your electricity bill instead of buying junk?”

Renata frowned. “Do you have to bully everyone?”

“Again,” Belinda snapped, “I didn’t grow up to please people. I speak the truth—honestly.”

She lifted her chin. “If people can’t handle the truth, then maybe this world deserves to rot under fake people like you.”

“Fake people?” Renata snapped, fury flashing in her eyes.

“What?” Belinda shot back.

“Your heart is a fragile jade cup,” Renata said coldly. “One harsh word and it shatters.” Her lips curled into a cruel smile. “I’d happily break it and grind the pieces under my heel while laughing