The scene outside Zhenghua Imperial had shifted from elite tension to pure chaos within minutes. Flashing red and blue lights painted the marble floors. The glass doors whooshed open and in came six officers, armored up, brows low, batons swinging slightly at their hips. They weren’t here to negotiate. “Zhao Mark?” the lead officer called. Mark took a step back, sweat already rolling down his temple. “Wait—hold on. This is a misunderstanding. I’m Mark Zhao. Zhao. As in the Zhao family. You don’t just arrest people like me.” “Funny,” the officer said dryly. “You just made it easier to find you.” Before Mark could blink, his hands were twisted behind his back and the cuffs locked in with a loud click. “What the hell?!” he yelled. “Do you know who I am?! I’m the son of Zhao Guohai! This is police brutality! This is—this is TREASON!” From the far side, Kai watched the spectacle unfold, arms folded, face calm… and smiling. Mark caught the grin and thrashed harder. “What the f*ck are

Smoke hissed from the hood. The front of the car was crushed inward, mangled steel folding around the engine. Sparks spit from the undercarriage, and one headlight flickered before finally dying. The air reeked of fuel, hot rubber, and scorched electronics.But inside the driver’s seat, someone was still breathing.Kai exhaled sharply, his eyes flicking open as the crumpled airbag deflated around him. His chest ached. His brow was bleeding. But his bones were intact. His pulse steady.Just before impact, instinct had taken over.Not the instinct of a normal man.The Heavenly Eye behind his right socket had flickered—burning a warning into his nerves a split second before the truck hit. With one surge of raw inner force, he had diverted his spiritual energy to his pressure points—tightening his muscles, bracing his organs, reinforcing skin and bone with qi armor so thin it was nearly invisible.A technique Caleb called Heaven's Thread.“Still hurts like hell,” Kai muttered, spitting bl

Kai stretched his arms slowly, muscles sore but steady. He wiped the blood off his brow with the back of his hand, breathing in the thick metallic scent of the room. Around him, bodies lay still. The motel’s wooden walls were chipped, some bleeding. But not like the men inside them.He glanced down at one of the corpses, noting the tactical boots, the reinforced combat vest, the custom silencer still clutched in a now-useless grip.“Military-grade again…” Kai muttered, crouching to inspect one of the weapons. “Clean. Modified. Serial scraped.”He rose and looked around the room, letting everything settle in.Every time he met King’s men, they weren’t just random thugs. They were trained, armed, coordinated—and suicidal. This wasn’t some underground drug dealer with a petty grudge.King was playing a different game.One Kai was just beginning to understand.With a sigh, he pulled out his phone.The line connected instantly.“Master?” Thane’s voice sounded from the other end.“I need a

Kai had already turned to leave, humming under his breath like the chaos behind him was no more than street noise.But then—he felt a tug.Reginald.Gripping his wrist.Desperately.“Kai, please…” Reginald choked, his eyes glossy with the kind of tears you don’t want anyone to see. “You… you have to help me.”Kai turned slowly. His expression wasn’t cruel—it was worse.It was bored.He looked down at Reginald like someone staring at an emotional puddle in polished shoes.“Help you?” he repeated dryly. “Reginald, I just watched you confess that you knocked on the devil’s door and begged her to ruin your life… and now you want a refund?”Kai stared at Reginald’s teary, trembling face with mock awe, lips slightly parted like he’d just witnessed a grown man beg for help finding his self-respect.And fail."Do something, I know you are someone important, take her, you once loved her so please." Reginald begged in a whisper. “Wow,” Kai said slowly, dragging the word“You want me to help you

The next day came faster than expected. Kai stirred awake to a soft chime echoing through his room, followed by the calm, emotionless voice of his home’s AI system. “Good morning, Mr. Blackwood. Today is a good day. Temperature: 18°C. Mild clouds expected. Thane Jackson is at the main entrance, should I let him in?” Kai blinked once, rolled onto his side, and stared at the ceiling. Of course Thane was early. He sat up slowly, cracked his neck once, then muttered, “Let him in. And tell him to wait in the sunroom. Don’t offer tea. He’s dramatic enough.” “Confirmed,” the AI replied. Twenty minutes later, freshly dressed in a sharp black silk shirt and slate grey slacks, Kai stepped into the sunroom, towel still in hand as he dried his hair. Thane was already standing at attention like a military statue, back straight, expression solemn, hands respectfully behind his back. “Young master,” he said, bowing. Kai dropped into a chair, waving lazily. “Thane. I told you not to do that