The nights no longer belonged to them.Sirens carved through the dark like the cry of vultures, echoing off broken walls and rusted zinc roofs. Every corner had eyes now some in uniform, some in shadows. Jayden watched from a warehouse rooftop, wind pressing his coat against him as flashing blue lights bled across the river below.“Three routes shut down,” Malikah said behind him, breath ragged from the climb. “Checkpoint at Fourth Wharf, another at Gaskia, and the bridge at Dogon Noma? Locked tighter than a coffin.”Jayden didn’t turn. “Under-river routes still good?”“Maybe. But they’re watching the docks too. We lost two boats last night. One got lit up midstream.”He exhaled slow. “Bodies?”“Gone with the current.” Malikah’s voice cracked just slightly. “One was Timo.”Jayden’s jaw flexed. Timo had been one of the first to run packages for him, back when the slums still believed survival was about cleverness, not fear. “They’re tightening the ring,” he muttered.“They want to star

The streets had gone quiet not peaceful, but the kind of quiet that came after too much blood. Even the air around the market smelled tired, soaked with burnt rubber and gun oil. Jayden stood on the balcony of what used to be a Councilman’s residence, watching the slums below flicker under police spotlights. Patrols crawled like ants. Cameras now perched on lamp posts the way pigeons once did. Every eye was on him.Yet the empire still moved.Inside, maps sprawled across the table colored pins marking routes, factions, and debts. Malikah leaned against the wall, arms crossed, while two lieutenants argued over which gang still held loyalty. “They’re all scared,” Malikah said flatly. “Even the loyal ones. Fear makes people stupid.”Jayden didn’t look up. “Fear also makes people predictable.”He moved a pin. A green one the Council districts. “They want peace,” he murmured. “Or the illusion of it.”So he gave them one.Within days, Jayden’s messengers began to appear across the city poli

The morning broke with the weight of a city watching itself burn. The slums smelled of iron and smoke not from war this time, but from fear. Jayden stood in the upper room of the old factory that now served as his headquarters, eyes fixed on the skyline where cranes moved like slow predators. Beneath those glass towers sat the men who wanted him erased.Malikah paced behind him, her boots scuffing against the concrete floor. “The papers, Jay,” she said, voice tight. “They’re spreading like wildfire. The wire transfer’s all over the networks. Everyone’s saying you took money from the Ministry front.”Jayden didn’t answer at first. He held the photograph Amara had brought the same banker whose death had opened too many doors. A ghost deal from a dead man, he thought grimly. “They set the stage,” he muttered. “Now they’re waiting for me to walk into the light.”Malikah frowned. “You think Amara?”He turned sharply. “No. Not her. She might’ve been reckless, but she’s not stupid. Someone u

The city didn’t wake up it was forced awake.Engines thundered through the slum’s arteries as armored trucks rolled in, crushing broken stalls and scattering the few street dogs that still dared to linger. From the rooftops, Jayden watched the convoy snake its way through the main road like a metal centipede. The soldiers wore no badges, no names just blank patches where insignias should be. Their faces were covered. Their rifles gleamed.“This isn’t police,” Malikah muttered beside him. “They’re trained military. See how they move?”Jayden didn’t respond. He already knew. He could read intent in formation, just like he could read fear in silence. These men weren’t here to maintain order they were here to erase it.The Burned Boy climbed up the ladder, panting. “They’ve set up three zones already north by the docks, east near Mama Nuru’s kitchens, and one right here in the market ring. They’re saying it’s for safety operations.”Jayden gave a grim smile. “Safety,” he repeated. “That’s

The city was a breathing monster that night smoke rising from alleys, armored convoys prowling through empty streets, the hum of drones slicing the air above. The slums slept with one eye open.Jayden sat alone inside the war room, staring at the serpent insignia drawn across the whiteboard. His voice was rough, quiet. “Voss wants to clean house. He’s not after Razor anymore he’s after us.”Malikah leaned on the table beside him, face half lit by the flickering bulbs. “Then we hit him first. But we need eyes inside his fortress. We can’t fight what we can’t see.”Jayden nodded. “That’s the play. We put someone close to him. Deep enough to breathe his air, close enough to hear him plan.”The Burned Boy frowned from the corner. “Who’s gonna walk into a viper’s nest like that?”Jayden didn’t answer immediately. He already had someone in mind Kane, one of his earliest lieutenants. Kane was loyal, ruthless when he had to be, but smart enough to play the long game.“He’s been running front