Heavenfall King: The Prison God Who Returned

Chapter 3: Blood Before Midnight

The rain hadn’t stopped. It hammered against the windshield as Mark drove through the city, wipers slicing back and forth like metronomes counting down to something inevitable. Streetlights smeared into long, distorted lines across the glass.

Tania sat in the passenger seat, silent. “You should’ve stayed home,” Mark said.

She didn’t look at him. “You didn’t ask me to.”

“I was going to.”

She turned then, eyes sharp. “No. You were going to decide for me.”

Mark tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “This isn’t something you should be near.”

“And prison was?” she shot back. “Five years without you was?”

Silence fell again. 

Mark exhaled slowly. “They used Andrew to bait me.”

“And you’re still going,” she said. “So what does that make you?”

“Someone who finishes things.”

The car slowed as they entered an older district, abandoned factories, shuttered warehouses, streets too wide and too empty. Mark recognized the area immediately. 

The old Lane shipping subsidiary. Sold on paper. Still very much active underground. 

“They planned this,” Tania murmured.

“Yes,” Mark replied. “Which means they want witnesses.”

He parked the car a block away. “Tania,” he said, turning to her fully, “listen to me carefully.”

She met his gaze without fear. “No matter what you see,” he continued, “do not move unless I tell you to.” She nodded once. “Just don’t die.” Mark almost smiled. They stepped into the rain.

The warehouse doors were open. Light spilled out, too bright, too deliberate. Inside, voices echoed. Mark walked in first.

Andrew was on his knees in the center of the floor, hands bound behind his back, face bruised and streaked with tears. Mr. and Mrs. Lane stood nearby, pale and rigid.

Around them were six men. All wearing black. All calm.

At the far end, a man sat on a folding chair, umbrella resting against his shoulder as if he’d stepped in from a stroll rather than orchestrated a kidnapping.

“Mark Lane,” the man said warmly. “Right on time.”

Andrew sobbed. “Mark! Mark, please,”

“Quiet,” the man said, tapping Andrew’s cheek with his shoe. “You’ve served your purpose.”

Mark stepped forward. “Let them go.”

The man chuckled. “Straight to the point. I like that.”

He stood, adjusting his gloves. “I’m Zhou Wen. You could call me a businessman.”

Mark’s eyes flicked briefly over the men. No visible weapons. No nervous movements. Trained. Confident.

“Who sent you?” Mark asked.

Zhou smiled. “Everyone.”

Mrs. Lane’s voice shook. “Mark… we didn’t know it would become like this.”

Mark didn’t look at her. “You sold information,” Mark said calmly. “About my parents. About me.”

Mr. Lane swallowed. “We were pressured.”

Zhou laughed softly. “They always say that.”

Mark turned his attention back to Zhou. “What do you want?”

Zhou tilted his head. “To see if you’re worth the trouble.”

One of the men stepped forward suddenly, fist driving toward Mark’s face. Mark didn’t dodge. He stepped inside the punch. His palm struck the man’s chest, lightly. The man staggered back two steps… then collapsed, eyes wide, mouth opening soundlessly. Dead.

The warehouse fell silent. Tania gasped. Zhou’s smile vanished. 

Mark looked down at his palm. “I warned them.”

One of the men reached for his belt. “Don’t,” Mark said. The man froze.

Mark stepped forward again. “You said you wanted to see.”

Zhou raised a hand. “Enough.”

He studied Mark with new intensity. “That was internal rupture. No external force.”

“Medical,” Mark replied.

Zhou laughed once, sharp and incredulous. “So it’s true.” He clapped slowly. “You really are Heaven’s stray dog.”

Mark’s eyes hardened. “Careful.”

Zhou gestured casually. Two men dragged Andrew to his feet. Andrew screamed. “Mark! I swear, I swear I didn’t,”

Zhou pressed a blade lightly against Andrew’s throat. “One step closer, and I open him.” Mark stopped. 

“Good,” Zhou said. “Now listen.” He walked closer, boots echoing. “People like you disrupt markets. Power structures. Balance.”

Mark said nothing. “So,” Zhou continued, “you either work with us… or we make examples.”

Mrs. Lane broke down crying. “Please, please, Mark,”

Mark finally looked at her. His voice was cold. “You stopped being my family five years ago.”

Zhou smiled again. “Harsh. But practical.”

Mark’s gaze shifted to Andrew. “Let him go.”

Zhou raised an eyebrow. “After everything he’s done?”

“Yes,” Mark said. “He’s already dead to me.” Andrew sobbed harder.

Zhou considered this. “Interesting. Very well.”

The blade pressed closer. Then Zhou leaned in and whispered, “But you’ll replace him.”

Mark felt it. That pressure again. Heaven’s gaze. Zhou straightened. “You’ll perform a task for us. A demonstration.”

“And if I refuse?” Mark asked.

Zhou shrugged. “Your wife bleeds first.”

The words landed softly. Too softly. Mark moved. The lights went out. Screams echoed. In the darkness, Mark was a shadow among shadows.

A hand reached for him, he twisted it, snapped bone. A body hit the floor. Another lunged, Mark ducked, fingers driving into the man’s throat.

Gurgling. Silence. Emergency lights flickered on. Four men lay motionless. Zhou staggered back, eyes wide, umbrella dropped.

Andrew collapsed, free. Mr. and Mrs. Lane screamed.

Zhou raised his hands. “Wait, wait,”

Mark stood before him. “You mentioned balance,” Mark said quietly.

Zhou swallowed. “You don’t understand what you’re doing.”

“I do,” Mark replied. “I’m ending this.”

Zhou laughed weakly. “You kill me, and Heaven will,”

Mark struck him once. Zhou’s body flew backward, slamming into a steel pillar, crumpling to the floor. Dead.

The rain poured in through the open doors. Mark turned. Tania stood frozen, staring at the bodies.

“Mark…” she whispered.

He walked to her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head slowly. “No.” Sirens wailed in the distance.

Andrew crawled toward Mark. “Thank you… thank you…”

Mark looked down at him. “Disappear,” Mark said. “If I see you again, I won’t stop.”

Andrew nodded frantically and ran. Mr. and Mrs. Lane were escorted out by fear alone.

Mark took Tania’s hand. “We need to go.” They stepped into the rain. 

High above the city, in a place unseen, a screen flickered. A figure watched Mark walk away. 

“So,” the figure murmured, “he’s chosen violence.” Another voice replied, amused. “Of course he has.” The first voice smiled. “Prepare the enforcers.”

The screen zoomed in on Mark’s face. “Let’s see,” the figure said softly, “how long the mortal lasts once Heaven stops watching… and starts hunting.”