2026-03-21 20:14:09
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Ch 27.Casino Assault (Part 1)
The sky above the central district had burst open. A violent storm lashed against the glass walls of the skyscrapers, forming a curtain of water that reduced visibility to just a few meters. Lightning split the sky at intervals, illuminating the grand silhouette of The Grand Shark Hotel & Casino, standing like a steel fortress in the middle of a concrete ocean. At the top of the Artha Graha building, 650 meters away, Freya lay perfectly still. Her body was concealed beneath thermal camouflage, blending seamlessly with the shadow of a massive water tank. Her CheyTac M200 Intervention sniper rifle, specially modified by Belerik with a military-grade suppressor, was locked onto the coordinates of a basement ventilation window. Through her digital scope, Freya monitored every movement of the guards in the hotel lobby. “Eagle eye in position,” Freya’s voice came through the encrypted radio channel, flat and controlled. “Target is static. Night shift guards just rotated. You
Ch 26. Decapitation Startegy
The basement of the hilltop mansion had undergone a total transformation. The scent of fresh paint mixed with the warm, metallic smell of overheated electronics filled the expansive space, roughly the size of a small basketball court. At its center stood a holographic table, an illegal masterpiece assembled by Belerik, projecting a three-dimensional map of The Grand Shark Hotel & Casino, the heart of Claude’s power in the central district. Eduardo stood at the head of the table, his hands resting on the cold mahogany edge. Around him, his core team had gathered for the first time as a unified, lethal unit. Gord sat to his left, casually sharpening his new combat knife with a whetstone, the rhythmic scrape cutting through the silence. To the right, Belerik continuously adjusted his new glasses while scanning streams of data on a transparent tablet. And in the darkest corner, leaning against a concrete pillar, stood Freya. Dressed in gray tactical gear, her sharp eyes remaine
Ch 25. Blind Spot
The rattling descent of the service elevator felt like an iron coffin sliding into a grave. Inside, a suffocating silence wrapped around the three men who had just escaped death. The sharp scent of gunpowder still clung to Eduardo’s suit, mixing with the metallic tang of blood from his torn shoulder and the sour stench from Belerik’s soaked pants.Belerik leaned his head against the elevator wall, breathing hard. “We almost died... Eduardo, we really almost died. That bullet... it was just centimeters from your brain.”Eduardo said nothing. He stood straight, his eyes fixed on the floor numbers ticking down on the digital display. His wounded shoulder throbbed, not with ordinary pain, but with a hot, itching sensation as his cells were forced to regenerate by the system. The torn flesh slowly sealed itself, leaving dried blood crusted against his white shirt.“I don’t like this, Boss,” Gord muttered, checking his small Glock. “We’ve got muscle, we’ve got guts, but we’re blind. We can’
Ch 24. Dinner with the Devil
Le Sommet Restaurant stood arrogantly atop the tallest skyscraper overlooking the heart of the city. This was not merely a restaurant, it was neutral ground for elites, corrupt politicians, and businessmen whose hands were dirtier than soot. Here, candlelight reflected off pure silver cutlery, and the clinking of crystal glasses seemed to muffle the sound of shady transactions taking place at every table. That night, Eduardo had rented the entire private wing on the east side. He sat at the head of a long table draped in spotless white linen. Dressed in a bespoke midnight-blue suit worth the equivalent of a dockworker’s ten-year salary, Eduardo looked like a prince of darkness waiting for his subjects. “Damn... Boss, what kind of place is this? The floor’s so slippery I’m scared I’ll fall and break a plate that probably costs as much as a motorcycle,” Gord muttered as he entered awkwardly. His black tuxedo looked like it was strangling his massive frame. His tie was crooke
Ch 23. The Mansion on the Hill
The first light of dawn slipped shyly through the four-meter velvet curtains in the master bedroom of the hilltop mansion in the elite sector. Eduardo woke not because of an alarm, but because of his predator’s instinct, still alert even as his body sank into a king-size bed worth hundreds of millions. Beside him, Emily was still asleep, her breathing steady, her face looking ten years younger without the lines of worry that usually marked it back in their old rented house. Eduardo rose slowly, his feet touching the thick wool carpet that felt like clouds. He walked to the balcony and slid open the soundproof glass door. The cold morning air cut against his skin, but he did not shiver. His gaze immediately dropped to the massive iron gate in the distance, where two men in black suits stood guard with their hands behind their backs. “This is what you wanted, right, Grandpa?” Eduardo muttered. In the corner of the balcony, the silhouette of Grandpa Antonio appeared, sitti
Ch 22. Territorial Expansion
The aftermath of last night’s massacre at the fish warehouse still hung like a lingering trauma over the North Harbor. News of The Butchers’ destruction spread like a cholera outbreak, infecting every corner of the docks, from the mouths of porters to the ears of high-level logistics tycoons. No one knew who was responsible. They only called him “The Ghost,” a figure that arrived with fire and left behind piles of unrecognizable corpses. That morning, Eduardo stood on the balcony of a container office overlooking the loading docks. He wore a pitch-black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, concealing the “metamorphosis” scars that had now healed flawlessly. A lit cigar rested between his fingers, its smoke dancing in the sea breeze that carried the scent of salt and diesel. “Boss, they’re all gathered downstairs. Ten of the biggest wholesale shop owners and three trucking bosses,” Gord appeared from behind the steel door, wearing a safari suit that looked slight
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