In the dim control room, only the glow of the large monitors lit up the pale faces of Don Matteo and Silvana. The security feeds showed Brutus, La Serpiente, and Ravelo—all dead in gruesome conditions, their bodies no longer whole—while the man who should have been their victim walked leisurely through the carnage, as if nothing in the world could stand in his way.Silvana bit her lip, her clenched fists trembling. “Boss… we’ve lost. There’s no way we can beat that monster! We have to go. Now.”Don Matteo tried to swallow, but his throat was bone dry. His breathing was heavy, as though his lungs were filled with stone. He nodded quickly, his voice hoarse. “Y-yes… you’re right. The Marcellis are finished. We’re leaving. Right now.”Wasting no time, they opened the emergency evacuation route—a heavy steel door at the side of the room that led to an outer balcony. The night air was freezing, cutting to the bone. They stood at the edge, seven stories above the ground, the dim lights of th

The night air in the city center cut sharp and cold, its chill bouncing off the towering glass of Albrecht Tower—standing tall like a monument to arrogance. City lights shimmered below, but around the main gate it was silent, too silent—like the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to break.Kael walked steadily toward the black iron gates. Each step was calm, deliberate, as though he was simply walking home.But high above, on the 30th floor—two shadows froze behind tinted glass.“Target’s in the zone,” one of them whispered, his voice flat, almost mechanical. His finger rested firmly on the trigger of an anti-materiel rifle, the long barrel gleaming, ready to unleash death.The other, a man with a scar across his cheek, exhaled slowly. “Range: twelve hundred meters. Wind: point-two west. No chance of missing.”“He’s just a man,” the first one muttered. “Even if he isn’t—like Mr. Albrecht said—this bullet pierces a hundred centimeters of steel. Even if he’s a mo

Qian Long stood unsteady, blood dripping from his lips. But his eyes burned with a fire far deeper than anger—it was desperate resolve. He raised his hand, and from his sleeve rolled out a small, round object, no bigger than half a baby’s fist. A pill. It glimmered gold, like a living ember glowing from within. Kruger turned, his breath ragged, his body covered in wounds. “What… is that?” Qian Long’s voice was low, yet carried authority despite his broken state. “The Heaven-Breaking Pill. A forbidden treasure… only meant to be used when the world itself hangs in the balance.” His sharp gaze locked onto Kruger, each word striking like a hammer. “Whoever swallows it… their power will triple. But the price… is fifty years of life.” Kruger froze, his face tightening. “Fifty years…? That means—” Qian Long grinned faintly, blood staining his teeth. “We’re old men already, Kruger. What use is long life… if we die here tonight, torn apart by this brat? If we can kill him, then the pr

The first body was sent flying before it even had the chance to scream, its chest bones crushed under Kael’s palm strike. Two others tried to flank him from the left and right, but he only twisted his body slightly—his knee slammed into one man’s ribs, while his heel cracked the other’s jaw. Both were tossed into a pile of rubble, their weapons clattering across the floor.“Slow. Way too slow. I’m not even trying yet,” Kael said, his voice calm, as if he were scolding clumsy students.One after another, their formation fell apart. Kael moved like a black current flowing between them—sometimes surging, sometimes vanishing and reappearing in places they didn’t expect. Every time he reappeared, another body hit the ground—some merely unconscious, some never to rise again.Panic started creeping into Thorne’s men. Their eyes darted around for an escape that didn’t exist, cold sweat trailing down their temples despite the guns still in their hands. Their bullets hit nothing but dust and sh

The Laurent family’s main meeting room was thick with the scent of expensive tea and an undercurrent of tension. Hector sat with his arms crossed, Mariana stared out the window looking bored, while Grace tried to appear calm even as her fingers tapped the table nonstop. Agatha, as always, sat at the head chair—upright, cold, her gaze impossible to read.The double doors swung open.A group of soldiers entered, followed by a hard-faced commander. Two of them carried the bound and gagged body of Don Matteo, his head hanging weakly. A dark bruise marred the side of his neck.Silence.Hector shot to his feet, eyes widening. “Is that… Don Matteo?” he muttered, half in disbelief.“Look at his face… that really is Don Matteo!” Mariana leaned forward, her voice almost choking on shock. “We won?”Grace stared at the man’s limp figure, her heart pounding. “Unbelievable. We actually brought down the Marcelli Syndicate!”The commander gave a brief salute, then spoke. “Mission accomplished. Don Ma