The sound of the gunshot cracked through the station like lightning. For a moment, it silenced everything—Dorcas’ ranting voice, the murmurs of the officers, even the hum of the old ceiling fan above.People flinched. A few covered their ears. Dorcas stumbled back, her breath hitching as she saw the smoke curling from the barrel of Chief Banks’ gun.Her heart sank. That’s it. He shot him. She didn’t expect less. She just hoped the young lad knew what he was doing. hoeeHowever, the silence stretched. No scream. No collapse. No blood.Slowly, heads turned back toward the boy in the cuffs.Miles stood exactly where he’d been, his wrists chained in front of him, his posture straight, his eyes calm. At his feet, something small and metallic rolled across the linoleum with a faint ting-ting-ting.The bullet.Gasps ripped through the room.“What the…!!” one officer whispered.“No way.”“Impossible…”“Did it… bounce?”Miles glanced down at the bullet as if it were nothing more than a pebble.

Banks chuckled nervously, sweat gathering along his forehead. He waved a dismissive hand as though this was all a silly misunderstanding.“Gentlemen.. I think there is a misunderstanding here. You must be mistaken,” he said, forcing a grin. “This boy? This orphan? Come on, he’s not from any Wang family. Look at him! He was dragged here for almost murdering students on his very first day in school. He’s a criminal, not some young master.”He puffed out his chest again, hoping to regain authority. “It’s absurd to think he could be a Wang. The Wangs don’t walk into police stations in handcuffs. The Wangs don’t sit on school benches. This brat is nothing but trouble…”Antonio Drake moved.He didn’t shout. He didn’t snarl. He simply took one deliberate step forward, and the air shifted. The silence grew dense, pressing down on every officer’s chest. His suit was immaculate, his tie neat, yet his eyes burned with the weight of courtrooms, boardrooms, and execution grounds where reputations

The voice on the other end was a roar, deep and booming, so loud the officers nearby flinched even though they couldn’t hear the words. The man was Banks’ superior, his superior’s superior—the Regional Commander who oversaw the entire city’s security forces. The man everyone feared.“What have you done?!” the voice thundered. “I just lost my title! It’s gone! Do you hear me? Antonio Drake has been named the new Chief Marshal. By order of the Wang Empire itself. And they said it was because of you! Because of your corruption, your incompetence, your idiocy! What the fuck did you do, you stinking-ass motherfucker. “You are a bitch, a loser and I will fucking gorge out your fucking eyes, Banks! I will destroy your life forever! You’ve ruined me, Banks! You’ve ruined every fucking goddamn thing!”The line erupted with curses, foul and brutal. Banks’ face twisted in horror, sweat dripping down his temple. When the line went dead, the silence in the room was absolute. Every soul there unde

The air in front of Lancaster Mansion was so thick with silence that even the birds nesting in the grand oak trees seemed to have lost their voices. Gary stood there, bouquet in hand, his presence filling the doorway like a storm that had finally arrived after years of warning clouds. The Lancasters—every last one of them—lined the grand entrance like a tableau of power, wealth, and secrets they didn’t want unearthed.Their shock was written across their faces, though none of them admitted it aloud. What shook them wasn’t only the man himself but the sight beyond him—the cars. The convoy. The blacked-out SUVs with tinted windows that gleamed under the midday sun, engines humming low, guards posted by their sides. To neighbors, passersby, and the estate staff who dared peek from the corner windows, this was no ordinary visit. Whoever Gary was now, he had returned draped in shadows of authority.Madam Ann spoke first. Her voice, always so precise, carried a strange tremor, like silk hid

Back at Apex BioLabs when questioning those janitors as to why they looked ill, he also smelled something similar, rusted iron dipped in vinegar. It oozed off of each and every one of them like a stench. This solidified his notion that something was amiss. And he turned out to be correct. Perhaps, this was part of his enhancement as a true Wang blood. Ever since he went to China, a lot had changed about him. This enhanced sense of smell was one of them.He breathed in slowly and deliberately, his gaze sliding back to Madam Ann. “I smell fear.”The room froze. The boy—Donald’s son—shifted uneasily, darting to his phone every now and then. Donald’s wife looked away. Madam Ann’s fingers twitched against the silk of her dress.Gary tilted his head, describing it with clinical precision, his voice cutting into the silence. “It’s sharp, metallic. Acrid. Like burning wires, or sweet milk gone sour. Do you know what that means, Madam Ann? It means someone here is terrified. Someone’s hiding