Inside the precinct of the City Internal Affairs Bureau, Detective Mara Voss stood in front of a wide digital workstation, her hands leaning against the desk. The screen in front of her was filled with hundreds of files: offshore bank statements, wire transfers, property records, and recorded conversations. Some were sent through an anonymous link, as if they had known she was digging into Donald Woods' case; each file sent to her was more helpful than what she had done herself. Every single document revealed dark secrets and was pointing directly to one man: Inspector General Donald Woods. "This is airtight," her lead investigator whispered, staring at the screen in disbelief. "We have proof of high treason, bribery, and active collaboration with the Top Five going back fifteen years." "Print the formal sealed indictment," Mara Voss ordered, her voice sharp and unwavering. "Route it straight to the Federal Prosecutor's Office and lock down every internal system. Today, D

Gabriel stood in the middle of his quiet office, holding the phone. Julian’s words echoed in his mind, making him restless. He also thought about Zane; why was he helping Julian? Does he have something else in mind?His mind drifted toward Julian’s last words: For fifteen years, he had carried the weight of the world alone in the cold trenches of the northern front. But hearing his younger brother choose to fight for Arthur’s family’s home, rather than run, moved him deeply.“Stand tall, Julian. No one will lay a single hand on Fletcher Logistics tonight. I give you my word,” he stated firmly, as his hand curled into a fist.Gabriel turned toward Andrew, who stood near the kitchen counter. The calm demeanor on Gabriel’s face had completely vanished, replaced by the terrifying presence of the Supreme Commander.“Andrew,” Gabriel commanded, his voice dropping into a chilling register. “Mobilise the Northern Vanguard battalion. Deploy every covert operative in the region to Pier 4 immed

Gabriel did not answer. He kept his back angled slightly away from Julian, ensuring his brother could not read the grief in his eyes. He reached out, gently placing a hand on Julian’s shoulder, forcing him to step back behind the protective shield of two soldiers.“Stay back with Arthur, Julian. Watch over him. I will handle this.”Before Julian could utter another word, Gabriel turned around. The gentle warmth in his posture vanished instantly, replaced by a terrifying aura that seemed to freeze the blood in everyone watching.Across the yard, several of Maverick’s hired soldiers, driven insane by panic and fear, raised their rifles wildly.“Shoot him, shoot him now!” one of the senior enforcers screamed, squeezing his trigger.Gabriel moved.He became a dark blur rushing across the illuminated concrete. Closing twenty feet in a heartbeat, he caught the first gunman by his collar, driving a ruthless palm strike upward into the man’s chin.The impact lifted the hired soldiers two feet

“You’re losing a lot of blood, old man; keep shut. The ambulance will be here soon.” Gabriel stated, not moved by his words.However, Zax stepped out, accompanied by four silent operatives. Zax looked down at Zane’s face, his hard expression softening with a solemn grief. He was kneeling beside the old man.“Take him home, call the doctor,” Zax instructed quietly, his voice heavy with emotion. Two of the operatives stepped forward, gently lifting Zane’s body and carrying him away.Julian watched them leave, his chest heaving with an aching sorrow. He turned his head slowly, looking back toward Gabriel.Gabriel stood beside the pinned body of Maverick Foster.“Please, have mercy.” Maverick choked out, blood spilling from his cracked lips. “The Top Five, they will pay you anything.”“Your father’s bloodline ends here, Maverick,” Gabriel said, his voice dropping with final judgment.With a swift shift of weight, Gabriel ended it.The crushing force echoed through the concrete, silencing

At Sovereign Mercantile Bank The city of Ironport was still reeling from the news of Donald Woods's arrest and the sudden death of Maverick Foster and the destruction of his strike force. But inside the executive boardroom of the Sovereign Mercantile Bank Sitting at the head of the table was Clement Nicolas. Unlike the loud bosses who had fallen over the past weeks, Clement was the most secretive founding leader of the Top Five, a man who never carried a weapon and never signed his name to public documents. For decades, he had controlled the invisible circulatory system of Ironport: its high-society banking cartel, commercial credit lines, and offshore asset networks. Sitting to his left was Grant Castellan, looking visibly agitated, his hands clenched tightly against his thighs. Surrounding them were seven of the city's wealthiest private bankers, corporate financiers, and commercial directors, all looking nervous. "Hundred hired soldiers, an entire squad wiped out in less th