It was past midnight, the quiet hour where the city seemed to hold its breath. Only a few streetlights flickered, casting long shadows across the glistening pavement.Rain began to fall—light at first, then heavier, until the world seemed cloaked in silver threads.Ava walked down the dim street, soaked to the skin, heels clicking slowly against the wet asphalt. Her once-elegant dress clung to her frame, her hair plastered to her forehead. But she didn’t stop. Didn’t flinch.Her thoughts were louder than the storm.I’ve lost Langtech… reduced to a figurehead in a company my father built with his own hands.Is it really this hard for a woman to rise in the business world?Grandmother always preferred my cousin—simply because he’s a man. My father’s battling illness thousands of miles away, and Mom? All she ever does is complain or blame.What the hell do I do now?She stopped walking and stood in the middle of the road, staring up at the night sky. Rain streaked her cheeks—tears, hidde

Einstein Walter was no ordinary man.In Ray City, his name echoed louder than sirens, more feared than the mayor, and more respected than any CEO. The richest man in the city didn’t need bodyguards—he commanded them. People cleared paths at his slightest frown, and billionaires whispered his name with reverence. So when he stepped into a room, everyone either bowed or broke.And yet, the moment his eyes landed on Adam, the cold, dominant expression on his face flickered—replaced instantly by stunned recognition.It was him. The Supreme General. A man whispered about in secret circles, feared even in the darkest rooms of power. What is he doing here, mixing with a family like the Langstons?Einstein instinctively shifted in his chair, about to rise—a gesture he hadn’t made in over a decade. His men had carried him everywhere since a past injury, but for this man, even Einstein Walter was ready to stand.“Sup—” he began, about to bow——but Adam shot him a sharp look. A subtle shake of t

Carson stumbled forward, blood on his lips and fear in his voice. “Ava… she was able to raise ten million before—for Langtech. I’m sure she knows someone who can help. She’s resourceful. Give her time, and she’ll get the money.”Christie paused mid-breath, eyes gleaming as if struck by divine inspiration. “Yes… yes, that’s right!” she exclaimed, spinning on her heel and rushing toward Einstein like a woman possessed.She fell to her knees, groveling before the merciless man still lounging in his ornate chair, surrounded by bodyguards and two young women who clung to him like ornaments.“Sir, please… take my granddaughter instead,” she said, lifting a trembling hand and pointing toward Ava, who stood frozen by the entrance.“She’s younger, prettier than those women beside you. Look at her! She’s sharp, ambitious, and excellent at making money. If anyone can get you the three hundred million, it’s her. Just give her a little time.”Christie’s lips twisted into a sinister smile, her voic

A storm brewed over the dark skyline of Ray City. Neon lights flickered across the glass towers as rain hit the streets like scattered bullets.Inside the Presidential Safehouse—a private fortress deep beneath the city—five figures sat in silence around a metal table. The air was sharp with tension, thick with unspoken fears.At the head of the table, President Ryan’s face looked drained. His silver hair stuck to his temples, and deep lines creased his forehead. On the screen behind him flickered an image that had brought the nation to its knees:The President’s daughter, tied to a chair. Bruised. Pale. A Cross Blood insignia burned into her collarbone.The room’s only door opened with a hiss.Bootsteps echoed.Everyone turned.A man stepped inside—broad shoulders, sharp eyes, dressed in a black combat jacket with no insignia.it was Adam.The Supreme General himself, ghost of the battlefield. The president have been awaiting his visit for weeks after he heard he was in the city.Now,

Across the black waters of Ray City Bay, buried beneath the earth like a sleeping beast, alarms screamed.Cross Blood Headquarters.Steel walls reinforced with cultivation-grade alloys. Surveillance grids pulsing. Soldiers everywhere—armed, armored, eyes hard behind their masks.But none of them were the true threat.No—the real monsters stirred below.In a darkened war room, lit only by flickering holo-screens, General Voren stood like a shadow made flesh. His black armor gleamed with crimson sigils—the mark of one of the Seven Heads of Cross Blood.Footage looped across the largest screen.One man. No weapons. Only his fists.Tearing through Cross Blood soldiers like they were nothing but glass in a storm.Voren’s eyes narrowed, molten red pupils glowing brighter with every frame.The officer beside him was pale. Voice trembling. “He… he wiped out the entire convoy. Neutralized two strike teams. Intercepted the transport… rescued the girl.”Voren didn’t blink.Another officer whispe