Novels by A.K.AN NUR

"The data has been sent, Mr. Hale. Not a single algorithm in the world can pull it back."The sound of hitting the Enter key echoed very loudly, breaking the morning air in the underground headquarters. Benjamin Carter leaned his body back against the iron chair. His breath was ragged. Sweat wetted his tired face after working non-stop all night. On the monitor screen, the delivery indicator turned bright green. Thousands of pages of evidence of Marcus Trent's crimes had now safely landed in the inboxes of Interpol and the editorial desks of the world's giant news agencies."Excellent. Your work is done, Benjamin," answered Alexander Hale. His tone of voice was incredibly flat and cold. "Now we just need to sit back and watch the main show."Alexander stepped approaching the wooden table in the middle of the room. He poured hot coffee into a ceramic cup. The bitter smell of black coffee spread, masking the scent of dust and dampness of the underground head

"Plug this thing into the most secure main server. Make sure not a single outside network can track its extraction process."Alexander Hale's heavy voice broke the silence of Benjamin Carter's underground headquarters. The man in the dirty, blood-stained black suit threw a small flash drive onto the computer desk. The plastic object landed with a sharp clink next to a cold cup of coffee.Benjamin stared at the flash drive with wide eyes. He immediately picked it up using slightly trembling hands."You really got it, Mr. Hale. Philip's Master Ledger." The former auditor's voice sounded full of disbelief. "How did you make that stubborn man surrender his life.""I reminded him of his main priorities as an ordinary human," answered Alexander flatly.The former God of Death pulled up an iron chair and dropped his battered body into it. The pain from his left shoulder and broken ribs throbbed mercilessly. However, his brown eyes remained sharp

"Three."Benjamin Carter's voice sounded flat and merciless from the phone speaker on the metal table."Two.""Stop. Stop the countdown." shrieked Philip hysterically.His high-pitched voice pierced the freezing air inside the meat warehouse. The stout man sobbed uncontrollably. Tears and snot flowed heavily, wetting the collar of his dirty shirt. He shook his head so violently that the iron chair binding him scraped creakingly against the ice floor."Please, my daughter is only seven years old. Please don't destroy their lives." wailed Philip with a resignedly bowed head. "They know absolutely nothing about Marcus's dirty money. Let me rot in prison. Don't involve my daughter."Caleb Thorne stared at the broken man before him. His military brain noted that the tactical objective had been achieved. The enemy's mental defenses had been leveled to the ground. He only needed to pull the worn-out Glock pistol from his back waistband

"Get out of this car right now, Philip. Don't make me break this window and drag you out by force in front of your crying, terrified wife and child."Caleb Thorne's voice sounded incredibly deadly, piercing through the heavy rain on the M4 motorway. The luxurious black SUV had just stopped in a tilted position, crashing into the concrete barrier due to a precise ramming maneuver from the sedan driven by Caleb. Thick smoke billowed from the SUV's hood, partially obscuring the deserted toll road in the middle of the night.Inside the dark cabin, Philip hugged the steering wheel, his body trembling violently. His wife shrieked hysterically in the passenger seat, hugging their seven-year-old daughter in the back seat with a tear-streaked face."Who are you. What do you want." shouted Philip, his face as pale as paper, opening the car door slowly while raising both his hands.Caleb did not waste time answering that question. The former God of Death gra

"Hold your breath if you want to throw up. I don't have time to clean this floor."Caleb Thorne's cold voice echoed, bouncing off the concrete walls of Benjamin Carter's underground headquarters. The former Shadow Emperor sat leaning against a cold iron table. He had carelessly stripped off his white shirt, soaked with rainwater and dirt stains, leaving his upper body—covered in bruises and long lacerations—exposed under the dim, flickering light of a yellow neon lamp.In the damp corner of the room, Elena curled up shivering on a worn-out folding chair. Her red silk evening gown had turned into muddy rags. Her battered, beautiful face looked incredibly pale. She stared at the man in front of her with the remnants of her sanity that were nearly shattered to pieces.Elena watched as Caleb took a thick sewing needle and black nylon thread from a dirty first-aid kit on the table. The man poured a bottle of pure rubbing alcohol directly onto the torn wound on

"The steel crowbar swung heavily through the air, ready to shatter Caleb Thorne's skull into pieces. An incredibly sociopathic smile of victory was painted on Marcus Trent's face. In the CEO's eyes, this weak man whose life he had once destroyed would die pathetically by his hands once again."Die for the second time, my best friend."However, Marcus Trent never understood the fundamental difference between a corrupt businessman and a war general raised on the battlefield. In the final second before the crowbar touched his temple, Caleb used the momentum of his fall to twist his body. He rolled roughly to the side, ignoring his broken ribs cracking against the concrete floor. He turned that mortal pain into a surge of pure energy.CLANG.The steel crowbar only hit the empty concrete floor, sparking yellow embers.Caleb's blood-covered right hand snatched his dropped Karambit knife. With a highly precise and savage upward swinging motion, Caleb slashed the sharply curved blade right a

Absolute chaos erupted in the main lobby of Whitlock Tower precisely at ten in the morning. All daily operational activities of the massive conglomerate suddenly ground to a complete halt. Dozens of lower-level employees consisting of logistics couriers, janitorial staff, and night-shift security guards were forcibly herded out of their work areas. They were lined up facing the giant glass walls of the lobby, heavily monitored by a dozen black-uniformed security personnel standing at high alert with tasers drawn. The suffocatingly tense atmosphere sliced through the air exactly like a mass execution in a totalitarian state.At the very end of the elongated line stood Martin, holding a terrifyingly hunched posture, wearing his filthy blue uniform and the faded cap that heavily obscured his prosthetic face. "Everyone drop your belongings on the floor! Empty your pant pockets, take off your jackets, and place both of your hands high against the wall! Right

The bright morning sunlight completely failed to warm the freezing atmosphere inside the CEO's office of the Whitlock Tower on the fortieth floor. At exactly nine o'clock, the mahogany double doors were shoved wide open. Miller strode in with an incredibly wide smile, radiating an aura of absolute victory. He was wearing a custom-tailored silver suit and a maroon silk tie; his entire appearance looked exactly like a king preparing to count the tribute of his empire."Good morning to the Ruler of the World," Miller muttered to himself, carelessly tossing his briefcase onto the black leather sofa. Last night, after a completely idiotic argument with Moana and the absolute failure to steal the physical bearer bonds from the penthouse vault due to the terror of the black envelope, Miller had firmly decided to drastically accelerate his ultimate master plan. He no longer gave a damn about Moana's paranoia or Martin's ghost. Today, he was going to liquidate th

The atmosphere in the executive hallway instantly froze. The red emergency strobe lights continued their blinding flashes, but for Martin, time felt as if it had completely stopped ticking. Moana lowered her head, staring down at the tiny metal screw that had just bounced with a sharp ring right in front of the tip of her high heels. The woman's face immediately contorted in tension. Slowly, with highly calculated movements, Moana tilted her head upward, staring straight toward the slightly ajar gap of the ventilation grille. Inside the pitch-black ventilation duct, Martin held his breath so tightly his chest ached. His muscles tensed as hard as steel, fully prepared to lunge downward the exact second Moana screamed. The distance separating them was a mere three meters vertically. If Moana realized there was an eye watching her and shouted, the heavily armed security squad currently sweeping the lower floors would swarm up the stairs in a matter of seconds. Moana's brown eyes narro

"What kind of cable is this? This isn't our standard internal network cable," Hans muttered, reaching out his hand to pick up the end of Martin's modified black hacking cable."And look at the connector port, Hans. That's a modified port used to hack military-grade data protection systems. Someone infiltrated this place and is trying to drain our company's data or money tonight!" Dieter exclaimed, his face turning deathly pale, his security instincts instantly flaring to life. "We have to sound the code red alarm right now and lock down all building access!"Dieter immediately reached for the walkie-talkie at his waist, his thumb moving rapidly to press the red emergency button.Martin knew he didn't have a single second to think or feel pain. If that button was pressed, all the armor-plated steel doors on the fortieth floor would lock automatically, and dozens of heavily armed security personnel would surround this room in a matter of minutes. I

"Get out quickly through the emergency stairwell, Ma'am! I hear the footsteps of the night security patrol heading toward this hallway!" the unfamiliar man's voice whispered in sheer panic from the direction of the entrance."Damn it! Why did their patrol schedule change to be earlier tonight?! We will discuss the rest of your payment tomorrow morning outside the building, understood?!" Moana replied in a hushed tone filled with intense irritation and panic.The sharp clicking of Moana's high heels rapidly faded away as she ran, followed by the soft click of the server room's side access door shutting tight. The two of them had escaped a mere few seconds before being detected. Martin, still wedged in the narrow gap between the server racks, clenched his fists tightly. His wife had bribed someone to infiltrate the server room tonight? For what purpose?However, Martin had absolutely no time to ponder that puzzle right now.Screeeech... SLAM!

Last Updated: 2026-07-15