The shrill wail of the ambulance siren echoed into the emergency bay as paramedics rushed Andrew through the double doors on a blood-soaked gurney. His clothes were shredded, his chest crushed, and crimson blood soaked through the thick white bandages wrapped around his fractured skull. The medical team immediately swarmed him, hooking up monitors that beeped in a frantic, irregular rhythm.​Dr. Harrison, the senior surgeon on duty, quickly examined the scans and barked orders. The injuries were catastrophic, particularly the blunt-force trauma to Andrew’s head. Blood was pooling dangerously inside his cranium, and every passing minute dragged him closer to the grave.​Footsteps clicked sharply against the polished linoleum floor. Victoria arrived, still wearing her designer business suit, clutching an expensive leather handbag. She had been listed as Andrew’s emergency contact, and the horrific crash she had heard over the phone had confirmed something went terribly wrong. Yet, there

Victoria’s mother, Martha, was the first to completely lose control. Her face turned bright red, veins bulging along her neck with uncontrollable fury. For fifteen years, she had ordered Andrew around like an unpaid servant, and hearing him demand compensation was an unbearable insult to her pride.​“You insolent, worthless dock rat!” Martha shrieked, rushing forward. “How dare you speak to my daughter like that! How dare you demand a single penny from our family!”​Losing her temper, she raised her hand to deliver a hard, stinging slap directly across his face.​Smack!​Andrew’s hand shot up like iron, catching her wrist firmly in midair inches from his cheek.​The entire dining hall instantly fell dead silent. Martha gasped in shock, trying desperately to yank her arm back, but his grip was unyielding. Andrew stood motionless, his expression cold and carved from stone. Slowly and deliberately, he released her arm and pushed it down.​“Do not raise your hand against me ever again, Ma

Andrew stepped out of the heavy front doors of the Moore mansion, letting the night breeze wash over his face.​Waiting down the paved driveway was a sleek, pitch-black armored sedan. The rear door clicked open, and Andrew slid into the plush leather interior. Sitting behind the steering wheel was a sharp-eyed man in a dark suit—Leo, his most loyal right hand.​Leo glanced into the rearview mirror, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Boss! Man, I would have paid a million dollars to be a fly on the wall in there. Tell me, did Victoria and that greedy family of hers actually faint when the ‘dead fisherman’ walked through the front door? Their faces must have been pure comedy!”​Andrew adjusted his cuffs, his face expressionless. “Drive. And give me the update on the investigation.”​Seeing Andrew’s icy demeanor, Leo wiped the grin off his face and straightened his shoulders. He became dead serious in an instant. Leo had followed Andrew through hell and back, long before POWER had

Six armed thugs charged at once, swinging iron pipes and combat knives. Andrew moved purely on instinct—reflexes his conscious mind could barely comprehend. He ducked under a lethal swing, seized an attacker’s wrist, and snapped it with effortless precision before driving an elbow into the second man’s solar plexus, dropping them both like lead weights.​However, his recovery over the past six months was not yet complete. The heavy lingering damage in his ribs worked against him.​A heavy boot caught Andrew from behind, and a sudden, brutal blow to the temple sent him stumbling violently across the concrete floor.​Pain exploded behind his eyes. In that split second of blinding agony, another vivid memory flashed across his consciousness: explosions tearing through night skies, a muddy battlefield soaked in red, and thousands of roaring voices shouting his real title in desperate reverence.​I am not a fisherman, his blood screamed.​Andrew shook his head, planted his feet, and steadi

On the morning of the lawsuit, gray storm clouds hung heavily over the skyline. Andrew sat in the passenger seat of the black sedan as Leo navigated the busy downtown boulevard toward the courthouse. ​They had barely merged onto the elevated main road when the vehicle suddenly jerked violently to the left. ​“Boss, the steering wheel is locked!” Leo shouted, his knuckles turning white as he wrestled with the controls. “The brakes aren't responding! Someone cut the hydraulic line!” ​The sedan swerved wildly across three lanes, tires screeching against the asphalt before smashing hard into a reinforced concrete highway barrier. ​BANG! ​The violent impact shattered the windshield into thousands of flying crystalline shards, sending the vehicle spinning out of control. In that split second of terror, Andrew reacted on pure, seasoned reflex. He reached out with an arm like an iron bar, grabbing Leo by the collar and pulling him down toward the floorboards just as the car flipped sidew