The convoy of executives and security personnel moved through Apex’s sterile hallways, their shoes clicking against marble tiles. The deeper they went, the fewer windows, the dimmer the lights. The walls narrowed, painted industrial gray, cameras watching every corner.At last, they reached an elevator tucked behind a locked door. A biometric scanner glowed red. The manager pressed his trembling hand to the glass; it flashed green. The doors slid open, revealing a steel box with no buttons, just a single slot for a keycard.The manager glanced at Gary. “F7 is restricted to underground access only. Once we go down… there’s no stopping until we reach the floor.”Gary stepped in first. “Then let’s not stop.”The elevator dropped, smooth but fast. Gary felt the hum of machinery beneath his feet, the press of air growing heavier. He thought of Maria’s eyes. Of Mei Lin’s chest ripped open. Of his grandfather’s bloody smile. The ghosts followed him, but this time, he wasn’t the victim walkin

“You all disgust me,” Serena spat, her chest heaving. “While Master Gary was away, while I was drowning in reports and numbers, you thought you could turn his empire into a slaughterhouse for profit? You think you can hide this from me?” She pointed at the workers, pale as corpses, some of them crying quietly, their bodies shaking from exhaustion and toxins.She turned on Adam, eyes blazing. “Who did you sell it to? Who gave you this order?”Adam dropped his gaze, almost crying. Brown tried to speak, but his voice cracked. Finally, one of the younger men whispered, “Elijah Dane. Governor Dane’s only son. He… he was the sponsor. He gave the money, the guards, the threats. The offer was… it was too good.”Serena froze, then turned slowly to Gary. Her face softened, and she sank to her knees before him. “Boss… this was my responsibility. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve caught it. I failed you.” Her head bowed, her voice breaking. “Please… forgive me. Please.”Gary stepped closer, looking

Miles followed the sound, quickening his steps until he turned a corner behind the old maintenance building. His chest tightened at the sight: Tim was on the ground, curled up, his glasses cracked, his bag tossed aside. Four guys circled him, their laughter echoing like a pack of hyenas.Tim was getting beat!“Pathetic. Weak little pussy,” one spat, kicking Tim in the ribs. “Crying like a baby. That’s all you’re good for.”Tim wheezed, begging, his voice breaking. “P-please… stop. I didn’t do anything… I swear…”Another boy leaned over him, tall and wiry, tattoos peeking from under his sleeves. He yanked Tim up by his collar. “Didn’t do anything? That’s the point, loser. You exist. That’s your crime. This school is not for scholarship-given poor bitches like you.”The four guys wore black jackets with a jagged insignia on the back —a red slash in the shape of an ‘R’. Miles had heard whispers in class: The Razor Cult. A gang of rich kids, spoiled and untouchable because of their parent

The scarred boy went first, reckless from the humiliation of his broken arm. He rushed with his good hand, aiming a wild punch at Miles’ temple. But Miles was unfazed. He swiftly ducked under it, drove his fist into the boy’s gut, and spun, slamming an elbow into his jaw. The boy dropped, wheezing, his head smacking against the pavement. The crowd erupted, gasps mixing with cheers.The braces kid shrieked, grabbing a chain from his pocket. He swung it overhead, the links whistling through the air. “I’ll carve your fucking face, freak!”Miles sidestepped as the chain came down, seized the metal mid-swing, and yanked it hard. The boy flew forward, off balance. Miles’ knee met his face with brutal precision. Blood sprayed as the kid crumpled, teeth clattering to the ground. The crowd groaned in unison, a mix of awe and horror.“Holy shit,” someone muttered. “He’s actually beating them.”“This is so fucking impossible.”“I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing. Someone –anyone– is this r

The circle of students rippled with excitement as Carson Carter stepped into the clearing. Phones shot higher into the air as everyone now wanted to get a video of the next fight. The chants fell quiet, replaced by an electric buzz of whispers. Everyone knew what Carson’s presence meant. The lieutenant fights were fun, but this? This was history in the making. No one had ever seen someone stand up to the Razors, let alone beat them bloody. And now the king himself had arrived.Carson adjusted the cuffs of his blazer like he had all the time in the world. His polished shoes crunched against the gravel as he strolled forward, his free hand resting lightly on the green-eyed girl’s waist. She moved stiffly beside him, her smile faint, eyes darting once toward Miles before she quickly looked down. It was small, almost invisible, but Miles caught it. That flicker of unease. It gnawed at him.Carson stopped a few feet from Miles, surveying the scene. His lieutenants lay groaning on the grou