The Depraved Tycoon

Sixteen stories above ground, a shadowy figure looked upon the rooftops of the houses beneath him. The ancient clock tower provided the best vantage point in the city; perfect for silently observing the daily workings of the citizens below.

Something about the perpetual movement within the building - the constant whirring of gears and ticking of various mechanisms - gave one the impression of incessantly moving forward. The ticking of the massive clock was like a heartbeat, constantly beating, driving the city. The feeling of power one got from standing atop it was almost intoxicating.

The man who stood upon it now - a mere silhouette in the fading light, was no stranger to power. It was no secret that an elite few ran all the business in the city; the wealthy tycoons, the daring crimelords. To the citizens they were merely its high-ranking officials, but very few suspected the shady double deals that took place behind closed doors.

Monocle-clad, with his signature top hat and shining ruby staff, the figure maintained every appearance of a dignified official. He was one of the city's wealthiest men, a monopoliser, untouchable by the law. He made it his personal business to know everything that went on within his city.

The smirk on his face gave the impression of superiority; of one who was perfectly aware how much power he could weild. Both feared and revered by the inhabitants of the city, he maintained the reputation he was known for -- a vicious politian, devoid of all mercy, ruthlessly ambitious, and corrupt to the core.

There were not many men that he admired. There was a mutual respect among his fellow conspirators, though he thought of them more as allies than friends. Though there had been one man that he had once admired...