Ricardo stared at his daughter's corrupted hand, the grayish-black discoloration that seemed to pulse with malevolent life. "What is this? What kind of poison does this?"Diego's voice was heavy with dread. "It's called the Devil's Hand. One of the most feared substances in the ancient texts. I only know about it because Master Chen showed me warnings in his forbidden manuscripts—texts he kept locked away because the knowledge itself was considered dangerous.""Devil's Hand?" Ricardo's face paled. "That sounds like—""A myth? I wish it was." Diego moved closer to Esperanza's bed, his eyes never leaving the spreading corruption. "The name comes from what it does to its victims. The discoloration you're seeing now—that grayish-black spreading across her skin—that's just the beginning.""What do you mean 'the beginning'?""In a few hours, maybe less, the discoloration will turn red. Vivid, blood red. Terrifying red streaks that will cover both her hands like she's been branded by fire."

Vasquez stepped through, flanked by two of his largest enforcers. His expression was cold, calculating, and extremely displeased."We need to talk," Vasquez said quietly.Alejandro spun on him, his rage finding a new target. "Not now. I'm busy.""Busy throwing a tantrum like a child?" Vasquez's voice dripped with contempt. "Or busy thinking of more ways to bring heat down on my operations?""I did what was necessary—""You killed a senator!" Vasquez's voice rose. "You massacred fifteen people in a hospital! You poisoned the daughter of Ricardo Vega at a luxury resort! All without consulting me! All without orders! All while drawing attention we cannot afford!""Those were loose ends that needed—""You've been acting like a rogue agent," Vasquez interrupted, stepping closer. "Making decisions on your own, pursuing personal vendettas, using resources I provided for your own revenge fantasies. That stops. Now."Alejandro's hands clenched into fists. "Are you giving me orders?""I'm remin

Gael set down his phone after the fifth unsuccessful contact attempt and looked at Diego with serious eyes. "If you're truly desperate to save your wife—and I mean truly desperate, willing to do absolutely anything—then there's only one path left.""Name it.""You go back to being the Ghost."Diego went completely still, his entire body tensing at the name he hadn't heard spoken aloud in years. "No.""Diego—""I left that life behind. Permanently. You know that." Diego's voice was hard. "I dissolved the team, erased my identity, walked away from that world completely.""And that world is the only place where you'll find what you need." Gael leaned forward. "The Ghost had contacts in the underworld that Diego Herrera never could. Access to black markets dealing in artifacts and information that don't exist in the legitimate world. People who owe the Ghost favors that they'd never grant a civilian healer.""Those contacts are dangerous. Unpredictable. Using them means exposing myself to

The fight intensified as Diego struggled against opponents who'd spent five years preparing specifically for this confrontation. His movements were slower than they'd been in his prime—five years of focusing on healing rather than combat had dulled his killer edge, softened reflexes that had once been razor-sharp.Ring noticed it first. "He's slower! The Ghost is actually slower!""Retirement made you soft!" Knuckle laughed, pressing his advantage with a barrage of devastating punches.Diego dodged most of them, but his defensive positioning wasn't perfect. His footwork, once flawless, now carried fractional hesitations. His counter-strikes lacked the lethal precision they'd once possessed.He was fighting like Diego the healer, not the Ghost the assassin.And Ring and Knuckle were capitalizing on every weakness.Ring sent both chakrams in a scissor pattern, forcing Diego to choose which one to deflect. He blocked the right one, but the left sliced across his thigh—a deep, precise cut

Within hours of Diego's departure from the warehouse district, word spread through the underground like wildfire.Ring and Knuckle—found dead in an alley near Pier 17, their bodies displaying the precise, surgical violence that was the Ghost's signature. Ring's throat had been crushed with pinpoint accuracy. Knuckle's skull showed fractures consistent with strikes that required superhuman precision to execute.The message boards, encrypted channels, and shadowy meeting places where the underworld conducted business all buzzed with the same shocking news:The Ghost is back. And he just killed Ring and Knuckle."I thought they were supposed to be top-tier," one arms dealer whispered to another in a secure chat room."They were. That's what makes this terrifying. The Ghost took them both out like they were amateurs.""Didn't Ring and Knuckle spend years preparing specifically to fight him?""Apparently it didn't matter. The Ghost is still the Ghost."The rumors that had been whispers bec