Adam’s expression hardened. He hadn’t expected Phoenix King to have not just one, but two divine grandmasters standing at his side. With Romeo and Dracula together, the odds were stacked mercilessly against him. Getting out of this alive would be no small feat.Romeo and Dracula strolled toward him with casual arrogance, their blades glinting under the pale light. They didn’t strike immediately. Instead, Romeo tilted his chin upward, his eyes full of contempt.“Kid,” Romeo sneered, “do you regret going against the Crossblood Organization now? You could have lived quietly, but you chose to oppose us. That was your biggest mistake.”Adam spat blood onto the dirt and raised his head defiantly. “Bah! What’s so great about two old dogs teaming up against me? If either of you dares to fight one-on-one, I’ll grind you into the ground.”Romeo’s lips curled into a mocking grin. “Why in the hell would I fight you one-on-one when I can crush you with help? Do you think I’m stupid?”A different v

With an evil glint in his eyes, Romeo slammed his fist into Adam’s other leg. Crack! The bone shattered instantly, sending a white-hot wave of agony through Adam’s body. He gritted his teeth, his face pale and streaked with blood, yet he only gave Romeo a cold, defiant glare. This infuriated Romeo further. His lips curled into a cruel sneer. “Kid, believe it or not, I’ll dig out your eyeballs! I’ll watch your life drain away while your eyes stare blankly at me!” Adam, bloodied and broken, tilted his head slightly and let out a small, mocking smile. He had already resigned himself to his fate. Death and torture no longer scared him; they were merely another form of suffering to endure. Romeo’s eyes blazed with fury. “Kid, what are you laughing at?” The sight of Adam’s calm in the face of unspeakable pain enraged him beyond reason. He wanted to see fear, desperation, and cries for mercy—he wanted to twist Adam’s soul into fragments before his body. He raised his dagger again, brin

Romeo’s grin died the moment he saw Adam’s face. The little half-smile, the stubborn curl at the corner of his mouth, it was not the expression of a broken man. It was a dare. And Romeo hated dares.“I get it,” Romeo said slowly. He straightened, every line of his body sharpening with malice. “You want me to kill you out of mercy. You think that will make you noble when you die. I will not grant you the luxury.”Dracula watched Adam like a connoisseur sizing up a rare wine. He ran a fingertip along the haft of his golden sword and smiled without warmth. “Mr. Treg is right. He has taken lives, and that calls for more than a quick blade. We can end him cheap. Or we can make him suffer. Which do you prefer?”Romeo’s laugh was a hard, dry sound. “Make him suffer,” he said. “Slowly. Make sure when he wakes, he understands every second of his defeat.”Dracula nodded and folded his hands behind his back. The two men were predators with time and resources. They did not merely want victory. Th

Adam had been waiting for this moment. Losing his cultivation base had gutted him; it stole the humming heat from his bones and the invisible scaffolding that let him move like a god. It had not taken his hands, his will, or the thin array of needles he kept hidden at his waist.He planted his feet like he was bracing for an earthquake, funneled the last of his energy into his palms, and let instinct take over. The needles were thinner than hair, hollow and wickedly sharp, a tiny storm packed into silence. Fifty at least. He sent them out like a thrown constellation.They filled the air, a sudden glittering hail. Too small to track for more than a blink, then everywhere — a silver rain aimed at men who already wrote him off as dead. The needles hissed through the heated night.For a beat the room registered nothing. Then chaos. Leather, cloth, bare skin — the needles bit. Men who had expected spectacle and domination flinched. Tessa and Winda, drugged and trembling, sagged further tow

Tessa’s voice had barely died when the other three convulsed again—harsh, animal screams tearing out of them as if their throats were rent by invisible claws. Nathaniel’s face had gone ashen; the veins at his temple throbbed like drumbeats. Each breath was a ragged, splintered thing. Blood bloomed dark at several puncture wounds along their torsos, each hole smoking faintly with something that smelled metallic and bitter.Winda and Tessa, by contrast, were a study in glassy calm. The aphrodisiacs had already hollowed them out earlier—left them stumbling, ripping at fabric, eyes like drowning things. Now the chemical lull settled over their limbs like a soft blanket. Their fingers uncurled slowly. Their chests rose and fell in long, lazy arcs until their faces smoothed, and sleep took them like a tide. The room, once full of frantic motion, felt suddenly obscene in its quiet.“Don’t use your energy!” Dracula barked, the command cracking the air. He moved like someone trying to hold a c