The air on the outskirts of San Siro felt heavier, as if every breath carried traces of rust and old sweat. The black van stopped in front of a red brick warehouse whose nameplate had fallen off long ago. From inside came a steady rhythm.The sound of fists slamming into a punching bag with relentless consistency.“Old Guard Boxing Gym,” Elena murmured, staring at the rusted iron door. “Kael is in there. Maya, do you see any communication activity in this area?”“Quiet, ma’am,” Maya replied from behind her laptop, fingers still flying across the keys. “No radio signals within a hundred-meter radius. Kael has completely cut himself off from the outside world. He’s living like an armed monk.”Dante stepped out of the van, his carbon cane tapping against the cracked sidewalk. He drew in a deep breath.“He hasn’t cut himself off, Maya. He’s waiting. He knows Lorenzo won’t let him live after he refused the contract on that ship.”“Are you sure he won’t just shoot you on sight?” Elena asked

The fourteenth floor of Moretti Tower had transformed into a command center that resembled a military intelligence headquarters. In the room, lit only by the glow of monitors, Dante Moretti stood perfectly still. He did not need visuals to understand the digital map Maya was projecting onto the large screen. To him, the room was a collection of humming frequencies and the heartbeats of his now-complete team.“Target identified, Boss,” Maya’s voice broke the silence. Her fingers danced across the mechanical keyboard at blistering speed. “A distribution warehouse in the Settimo Milanese industrial zone. Legally, it’s a packaging plant for household cleaning products. But the temperature control systems and power consumption indicate far heavier activity. It’s Lorenzo’s large-scale cocaine processing lab.”Dante turned his head toward Maya. “How many guards?”“Twelve on the outer perimeter, six inside,” Kael answered from the corner while sharpening his blade on a whetstone. The metallic

The rain over Milan turned into thick fog as the black van sped toward Lake Como.Inside the soundproof cabin, Dante Moretti leaned back in his seat. In his ears, the hum of Maya’s equipment provided a constant auditory map of every vehicle trailing them.“We’re almost in the Villa d’Este zone, Boss,” Maya said, breaking the silence. “I’ve disabled all GPS trackers on this vehicle, but Volkov’s passive radar around Como is extremely sensitive. We can’t get closer than five hundred meters.”“Drop me at the Bellagio hiking bend,” Dante replied. “The freshwater scent and humidity here give better sound reflections than the harbor. I can map the villa gardens from a distance.”“Dante, you can’t go in alone,” Elena protested as she checked the rounds in her pistol. “Vargo said Volkov is waiting there. That means full defensive protocol.”“Precisely because he’s ready, he’ll rely on visual and thermal sensors,” Dante straightened. “Kael, take position on the eastern hill. Use your rifle to

The elevator chime on the fourteenth floor of Moretti Tower sounded like a muffled death bell.Dante Moretti did not move from his leather chair. His back remained to the door as he faced Milan’s darkness through the glass wall, now reflecting a faint outline of his own shadow. In his ears, the approaching footsteps were wildly uneven, heavy on one side, dragging, accompanied by short, terrified breaths.They were the footsteps of a man who had just crossed a line with no return.“You arrived sooner than I expected, Lorenzo,” Dante’s voice broke the silence, so calm it could raise goosebumps on anyone’s skin.The double doors of the office burst open.Lorenzo Moretti stood there, his expensive suit stained with fresh blood. In his right hand, he clutched Don Galante’s black leather briefcase. In his left, he held a pistol that still smoked.“You… you devil, Dante!” Lorenzo shouted. His voice cracked, trembling between rage and despair. “You trapped me! You made me kill him!”Dante slo

The emergency stairwell door opened without a sound. The Russian agents moved in flawless formation. They did not use flashlights; they used night vision. In their world, they believed themselves invisible.Dante took a steel marble from his pocket and dropped it into a large iron pipe nearby.CLANG!The sound thundered through the empty floor, ricocheting off the walls and creating a chaotic audio distortion.“Contact! Twelve o’clock!” one of the Russian agents shouted in their language.They unleashed a barrage from their assault rifles toward the pipe. Sparks briefly lit the space. But Dante was already gone. He had slid beneath a pile of construction lumber, moving in rhythm with the echoes of their gunfire.“They’re wasting ammo, Boss,” Maya’s voice came over the radio. “I’ve cut their radio communications. They’re operating analog now.”Dante emerged from behind a pillar, directly behind the last agent. He did not use his sword; he used his bare hands. He struck the nerve at the