"The cleanest politician in all of Switzerland, you say?" asked Caleb coldly. His eyes stared sharply from behind the glass of the black sedan parked across the street."That is what is written in all print and digital media, Caleb," answered Isabella. She sat in the front passenger seat, holding binoculars to clarify her view. "Bastian built ten hospitals, five orphanages, and donates millions of Euros to the poor every year. The public worships him like an angel descended directly from heaven."Across the street, in the courtyard of a magnificent classical-style building, a crowd of journalists scrambled for positions to take pictures. Bastian, a middle-aged man in a very elegant gray suit, was kneeling, hugging two cheerfully smiling orphans. Bastian's smile was so warm and sincere. Cameras flashed endlessly capturing the holy moment."A very fake and sickening smile," growled Viktor from the back seat. The Russian giant was stroking the barrel of his modified sniper rifle with rac

"Put your hands down, Mr. Thorne. One touch from you on my body, and those children will burn to ashes in a split second."Bastian smiled very elegantly on the stage. The man swung the black remote control in his hand like an orchestra conductor leading a choir of death."You are digging your own grave too deep tonight, Bastian," answered Caleb coldly. The veins in his neck bulged, holding back anger ready to explode."A grave? I am offering you a playground," Bastian chuckled softly. "Walk out of this hall slowly. A black van in the front lobby is already waiting for you. We are going to play a little game at that orphanage right now."Caleb stared at the projector screen. The faces of dozens of soundly sleeping orphans held back every form of attack he had prepared at the tip of his tongue. His god of death powers were locked tight by the EMF frequencies in this building. If he moved to kill Bastian with physical strength, dozens of innocent liv

"Mr. Thorne, please stop this madness! You will destroy your own brain!" shrieked Dr. Hans Gruber through the earpiece. His voice cracked with absolute panic. "That optic nerve cable is connected directly to your visual cortex. If you sever it with the force of pure energy, you will suffer a permanent disability!""Shut up and watch your screen, Doctor," whispered Caleb with tightly clenched teeth. His hand holding the black dagger did not tremble in the slightest. "How much time is left before the bombs under these children's beds explode?""Ninety seconds, Sir! But you cannot make a biological sacrifice like this!" argued Hans hysterically.Bastian's laughter drifted again from the intercom speaker on the dormitory ceiling."What are you doing down there, Shadow Emperor? Trying to gouge out your own eyes so you don't have to watch the seconds of your death?" mocked Bastian. His tone of voice was incredibly arrogant, filled with the absolute conf

"Close your eyes tightly and do not breathe!" roared Caleb with a voice that drowned out the roar of death.A wave of blazing orange fire exploded from beneath the wooden floor. The first C4 explosion tore through the orphanage's foundation in a matter of milliseconds. The dormitory floor split and shattered, spewing pillars of fire that swept the entire room with temperatures of thousands of degrees. The air was instantly burned away.Caleb did not retreat. He hurled his massive body forward. Pure necrotic energy exploded from the remnants of his consciousness, solidifying the shadow nets wrapping the orphans' beds.Boom! Crack!The concrete roof above them collapsed instantly. Steel beams and cement pillars weighing dozens of tons plummeted down onto the room. Caleb thrust both his hands upwards. The muscles in his arms swelled until his veins nearly burst. He held up the giant chunks of the concrete roof purely with his physical strength.<

"Five small-sized coffins, Caleb. I have seen thousands of corpses in this underworld, but I don't think I will ever get used to seeing coffins that small."Isabella Vane stood close beside Caleb. The incredibly cold and bleak morning wind swept across the public cemetery on the outskirts of the city. In the distance, the sound of ambulance sirens still wailed mournfully in turns from the direction of the orphanage ruins, which had now been leveled to scorched asphalt. The smell of fire smoke was even carried to where they stood.Caleb stood frozen like a stone monument. A black leather eyepatch now covered his completely dead left eye socket. The thick black blood that had stained his face all night had been carefully cleaned by Dr. Hans, but the throbbing pain penetrating to the base of his skull still clearly remained. That wound would never heal. It was the permanent price of a flawed tactic.In front of them, about fifty meters from where Caleb stood,