Divorced by the Mafia Queen: My Death System Awakens

Chapter 2: The Crimson Wake and the Shadow's Return

The opulent grand ballroom of the Rossi Estate had been instantly transformed into a macabre slaughterhouse.

A heavy, suffocating cloud of plaster dust and pulverized crystal hung in the air, masking the horrific scene at the center of the room. The multi-ton chandelier had struck with apocalyptic force, shattering the marble floor into a crater of jagged shrapnel.

Isabella Rossi sat on the floor, her flawless black silk gown ruined by the thick layer of grey dust and the expanding pool of crimson spreading toward her designer heels. She was trembling uncontrollably, her usually cold, calculating eyes wide with an unprecedented terror.

Just three feet away from her lay Julian Vance. Or rather, what was left of him.

He hadn't moved from the exact spot. A massive, jagged shard of the chandelier's central brass support had pierced directly through his chest, pinning his lifeless, mangled body to the floor. The heir to the Vance Syndicate was dead.

The ballroom was in utter chaos. Mafia captains were screaming into their encrypted comms, bodyguards were drawing their weapons, and the wealthy socialites were scrambling toward the exits like terrified rats.

But Isabella couldn't hear the screaming. The only sound echoing in her mind, over and over, was the low, mechanical whisper of her discarded husband.

“I'd take exactly three steps to your left.”

It wasn't a curse. It wasn't a lucky guess. He had stated it with the absolute, chilling certainty of a man reading a digital clock.

"Isabella!" Her older brother, Marcus Rossi, sprinted through the dust, his face pale with rage and panic. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her away from the blood pool. "Are you hit?! What happened?!"

"Ren..." Isabella whispered, her voice shaking as she stared at Julian's corpse. "Ren did this. He knew."

Marcus’s eyes darkened with explosive fury. "That ghost? You think he rigged the ceiling?! He was standing quietly in the corner sipping bourbon five minutes ago! He doesn't have the brains or the access to pull off an assassination in our own fortress!"

"I am telling you, Marcus!" Isabella suddenly screamed, snapping out of her shock. "He looked at the ceiling and gave a countdown! Find him! Do not let him leave this mountain alive!"

"He won't make it to the main gate," Marcus snarled, pulling a heavy tactical radio from his belt. "All perimeter units. The stray dog is rabid. Shoot to kill. I want his head brought to my study."

Half a mile down the winding, heavily forested mountain road that led away from the Rossi Estate, the freezing rain poured relentlessly.

Ren walked with a slow, measured pace down the center of the asphalt. The icy downpour washed over him, but it could not wash away the deep, infinite darkness in his eyes.

Suddenly, the blinding high-beams of two heavily armored Rossi pursuit SUVs cut through the dark, speeding up the mountain road directly toward him. The vehicles screeched to a halt thirty yards away, blocking his path. Four heavily armed enforcers stepped out into the rain, raising suppressed submachine guns.

"End of the line, rat," the lead enforcer barked over the sound of the rain. "Don't know how you rigged the house, but Mr. Rossi wants you in a bag."

Ren didn't stop walking. His expression remained terrifyingly placid.

The digital world flickered to life across his retinas. The deep-blue cybernetic code of the Death-Prediction System instantly mapped the environment, calculating wind speed, ballistic trajectories, and human biomechanics in a fraction of a millisecond.

Blood-red text materialized above the four enforcers.

[Threat Level: Minimal.]

[Target 1: Fatal hesitation. Reaction time: 0.8 seconds. Optimal strike point: Trachea.]

[Target 2: Poor trigger discipline. Weapon jam probability: 87%.]

"I said stop!" the enforcer yelled, his finger tightening on the trigger.

Ren vanished.

He didn't just move; he exploded forward with a burst of kinetic violence that defied human physics. He slipped underneath the line of fire exactly 0.2 seconds before the enforcer pulled the trigger.

Pfft-Pfft-Pfft!

The suppressed bullets tore harmlessly through the empty air where Ren had been standing. Before the enforcer could adjust his aim, Ren was already inside his guard. With a surgical, devastating strike, Ren drove the matte-black tactical pen—the very same pen he had used to sign his divorce papers—seamlessly through the enforcer's throat.

Blood sprayed into the rain.

The second enforcer panicked, swinging his weapon wildly, but his gun jammed with a metallic click—exactly as the system predicted. Ren didn't even look at him. He pivoted smoothly, driving the heel of his boot to shatter the man's kneecap, before snapping his neck with a brutal, sickening crunch.

The remaining two enforcers froze in absolute terror. This wasn't the submissive, invisible son-in-law they had ignored and mocked for two years. This was a highly trained apex predator operating with impossible, mechanical precision.

Before they could raise their weapons, blinding headlights cut through the storm from behind Ren.

A massive, hyper-modified black armored Phantom glided silently onto the mountain road, stopping just inches behind Ren. The heavy rear door opened, and a towering figure stepped out into the rain. He was dressed in a pristine, midnight-black combat suit, holding a matte-black umbrella.

The two surviving Rossi enforcers dropped their weapons, their faces draining of all color. They recognized the crest on the Phantom. It was a symbol banned in the global underworld—the crest of the Shadow Vanguard, the most lethal and elusive assassin syndicate on the planet.

The towering figure ignored the enforcers. He walked over to Ren, respectfully holding the umbrella to shield him from the freezing rain, and bowed perfectly at a ninety-degree angle.

"My Lord," the man spoke, his voice vibrating with absolute, fanatical loyalty. "Your two-year system blackout is officially over. The global neural network is online. The Vanguard awaits your command."

Ren wiped a speck of blood from his cheek. He looked at the two terrified Rossi enforcers, his eyes glowing with the faint blue light of the Death-Prediction System.

"Tell Isabella," Ren said softly, his voice cutting through the storm like a blade. "The divorce was merely the prologue. The execution begins tomorrow."

Ren stepped into the Phantom. The door slammed shut, and the armored beast roared into the night, leaving the Rossi family's territory to burn in the wake of the Reaper's return.