Yo, Colonel Orlan

This square Brutalist building of reinforced concrete had been cast directly over a steel framework with tons upon tons of cement. Its rough cement walls, prefabricated panels, red bricks, and other structural materials had not even been plastered or painted. Every window was narrow and small, clearly designed to prevent anyone from peering inside.

Augustus knew that Scott O'Bannon had once owned a magnificent "palace" in Deadman's Port, one so exquisite and grand that it rivaled even the Old Families' sky towers. Its interior furnishings were extravagantly luxurious, yet that had only been the tip of the iceberg of his immense wealth.

At the height of O'Bannon's criminal empire, it seemed as though everyone on the entire planet existed solely to support him. In Deadman's Port, Scott O'Bannon had once employed ten thousand bodyguards and servants—far more than the staff of the vast Augustgrad Palace.

But ever since fleeing Deadman's Port for Demon's Fair, O'Bannon had become much more low-key. He kept no ostentatious displays and rarely even left his home. The reason was obvious: this devil had once believed no one in the world could touch him.

In the days of the old Confederacy, those nobles on Tarsonis had been nothing worth mentioning. They cared about nothing beyond grabbing more profit and wealth. But now Koprulu was ruled by a vast empire, and this emperor who had emerged from nowhere might well have been the most ambitious and controlling great ruler of the past two centuries.

Even if Scott O'Bannon truly was the local emperor of the Edge World, he still had to bow at Augustus Mengsk's feet.

At this moment, however, lights shone all throughout the cold gray building. Every door stood open, and rows of servants in black suits and stiff-collared shirts stood bowing along both sides