All Chapters of Rise of the forgotten general: Chapter 51
- Chapter 60
95 chapters
Deep meaning
The night had stretched long and mercilessly over the city.Cole had been driving for hours, street after street, alley after alley, his headlights cutting through the fog like blades of light, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make his knuckles pale. Every turn he took, every lead he chased, led him nowhere.The penthouse Fiona mentioned wasn’t on any grid. It was as though the meeting had happened in a place that didn’t exist.He parked the car finally near an old bridge overlooking the lower district of the city. The engine hummed quietly, the rhythmic ticking of cooling metal filling the silence. Cole leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair, staring blankly at the windshield. His heart was pounding, but not from fear, from frustration.He had spent years reading people, predicting danger before it arrived, and yet something about Uzumaki unsettled him in a way nothing else had.He took a deep breath and reached for his phone. The screen glowed a
Shadows in velvet
The evening air settled softly over the estate like a silk curtain. The sun had long descended, leaving the horizon bruised with purple and orange streaks. Fiona stood before her mirror, staring at her reflection, at the faint circles beneath her eyes, at the quiet tremor in her hands as she adjusted her earrings.Her mother’s voice echoed faintly from downstairs. “You don’t have to go, Fiona.”Fiona hesitated, her fingers resting on the delicate chain around her neck. “He said it was just dinner,” she whispered, though it sounded more like a plea than reassurance.Her mother appeared by the doorway, worry carved deep into her features. “You think men like that invite you to dinner just to talk? You’re playing with someone dangerous.”Fiona turned, her voice soft but resolute. “He returned Grandma. He kept his word. I have to at least hear him out… maybe he wants peace.”Her mother said nothing. She simply stood there, watching as her daughter walked out of the room—graceful, determin
The lines we cross
The city moved differently when Fiona was with Uzumaki.It was strange, intoxicating, like a movie she never meant to star in.At first, it was supposed to be a polite thank-you dinner. Then came the invitations she never expected lunches, quiet strolls through the botanical gardens, late-night calls that always seemed to arrive when her thoughts were weakest. Uzumaki had a way of appearing everywhere, subtle, charming, persistent.Fiona didn’t know when the walls began to lower. Maybe it was the way he spoke to her with that calm, deliberate tone that made even the simplest words sound profound. Or maybe it was the unspoken pain behind his eyes, the kind of hurt she recognized in herself.One evening, they went to the cinema. Uzumaki had rented the entire place, empty seats, a single glowing screen, and a bottle of red wine waiting by their side.“Why an empty theater?” Fiona asked softly as they sat down.Uzumaki smiled faintly. “Peace is rare in my line of work. I thought we both d
The mysterious invitation
The rain hadn’t stopped since dawn. It came in thin, relentless sheets that blurred the world outside into gray and silver smudges. Cole sat in his car at the edge of the train station parking lot, the wipers creaking rhythmically across the windshield.He read the message again on his phone, the words plain yet unsettling:“If you want to know who Uzumaki really is, meet me at Central Station. Platform 7. Come alone.”— A Friend.Cole’s gut told him it was a trap. But instinct, the one honed by years of dealing with the unpredictable told him to go. People didn’t whisper Uzumaki’s name unless they had something to lose… or something to hide.He stepped out of the car, pulling his coat tighter against the rain. The platform was half-deserted, echoes of announcements fading in the distance. Steam from a departing train hissed across the tracks, wrapping the area in ghostly fog.Cole scanned the crowd. No one stood out at first until he saw a man leaning against a rusted pillar near the
The mask
The city below was painted in gold and shadow. From the top floor of Uzumaki’s penthouse, everything looked perfect, the skyline of Zurich gleaming through the glass walls, the soft hum of jazz music playing in the background, and the scent of expensive wine drifting through the air.Fiona sat across from Uzumaki at the long marble table, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The dinner was beautiful, roasted lamb, caviar, and a fine Bordeaux that shimmered like liquid fire in their glasses.Uzumaki was charm itself. His tone was calm, his smile practiced, his words smooth. “You know,” he said softly, cutting into his food, “I don’t often let people this close to me. You’re… different.”Fiona smiled, faintly. “Different how?”He leaned back, eyes fixed on her. “You don’t want anything from me.”She chuckled quietly. “And how would you know that?”“Because everyone else I meet wants power. Or money. Or protection.” He set his knife down. “You just… want to be understood.”The words linge
Enemy of my enemy
The warehouse was cold and dim, the air thick with the smell of gun oil and cigarette smoke. Heavy boots thudded against the concrete as men in leather coats moved crates of ammunition and rifles to the center of the room. Every sound echoed, a harsh reminder that something big was coming.The Russians were preparing for war.Their leader, Viktor Kolarov, stood near a long steel table covered with maps, cigars, and half-empty vodka bottles. His scarred hands rested on the table’s edge as he glared at the blueprint of Zurich, red circles drawn around locations marked Shinobi. His men waited in silence, tense, their eyes darting between their boss and the growing mountain of weapons.“Uzumaki killed my man,” Kolarov growled, his deep voice filling the room. “A man who did business with honor. A man who fed his family through this organization. That Japanese snake thinks he can put a bullet in my blood and walk away?”No one answered.He slammed his fist against the table. “He drew first
Deal or no deal
For two weeks, Cole Brady had been chasing silence. Every call he made to John Mendes ended the same way, unanswered, unreturned, lost in static. The city had begun to blur together in those days, the sleepless nights and endless plans weighing on him like chains. The streets were colder, darker; it was as if Zurich itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next explosion political or literal.Cole sat by the window of his small apartment one evening, the faint glow of streetlights flickering across his face. His phone lay on the table beside an untouched cup of coffee. He’d been calling the same number for the last three days, and still nothing.He sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes. The faint hum of the city filled the silence until his phone buzzed suddenly, making his heart skip.Incoming call: John Mendes.Cole picked up immediately.“Mendes,” he said quickly. “You’ve gone quiet on me.”The voice on the other end was hoarse, weary — the voice of a man who had seen too
Be careful of what you wish for
Cole and Mendes had burned through a calendar’s worth of wasted hours and dead ends. For a month they had moved through the underworld like ghosts, calls, dropped meetings, whispered names in cafés at dawn, only to find paper trails that ended in smudged ink. Mendes’ old contacts either had loyalty to a new boss, fear on their faces, or both. Each refusal left Cole with a little less patience and a little more certainty that Uzumaki was always one step ahead.That night in the hotel felt for a moment like a small victory. Cole had booked a cheap suite under a false name, hacked the cameras in and out, and had Mendes with him going over a ledger so worn the edges had been patched. Coffee cooled in paper cups. Rain ticked against the window like a metronome. They were tired but alive, elbows raw from leaning over maps and old receipts.At 2:12 a.m. the door exploded inward.Cole still remembers the sound as if it were physical wood splintering, the chain snapping. A dozen black-suited m
Good or bad luck?
He rose. The world had narrowed to steel and a single plan. He had no illusions. Uzumaki had drawn a line. Mendes had been the first man to cross it and pay with his life.Cole’s fingers tightened into a fist. He understood then, with the deadly clarity of a man who had watched too many friends fall: vengeance would not be enough. He would need a map, allies, and the kind of cold patience that waited for a man like Uzumaki to make a mistake.He vowed, quiet and absolute: Mendes would not be the last name written in that ledger.Outside, the rain fell harder. The lights of the city blurred. Somewhere far away a phone lit up with an unread message. In the silence that followed, Cole Brady began to count the numbers in his head—the hours, the contacts, the pieces he would need to move. The first move would be the pier. Mendes’ son would have his father’s face at the funeral, but Uzumaki would not enjoy a single quiet night thereafter.The hotel suite still smelled faintly of gunpowder. O
The choice is yours
The wind was colder now, heavier with night. The city lights reflected off the wet pavement like fractured glass. Cole walked slowly, but there was purpose in every step.Mendes was alive.But Uzumaki had fired without hesitation.That meant something important.It meant Uzumaki feared this thread being pulled.And that meant Cole was closer to the truth than he realized.Cole called Mason.Mason picked up immediately, voice strained, still bandaged from Blake’s beating weeks earlier.“Cole? Did… did he make it?”“He did,” Cole said. “He’s stable.”Mason let out a shaky breath. “Thank God.”“But listen,” Cole continued, stepping into the shadow of a streetlight. “I need every available contact, every runner, every informant who owes you a favor. We’re going after Uzumaki’s networks. Quietly. Patiently. He thinks he ended this tonight.”Mason’s tone shifted from relief to the grim edge of a man sharpening a blade.“What’s the first move?”Cole looked out across the city.“Pier 3. Wareh