Rise of the Street King

Chapter 26: Storm of Knives

The slums carried a strange hush that night, as though even the wind feared to move. Jayden walked ahead, Malik close to his side, Tariq trailing with wary eyes. They were heading toward the abandoned textile warehouse, where Razor had insisted on “discussing business.”

Jayden hated meetings he didn’t call.

The warehouse loomed like a corpse in the dark broken windows, metal ribs jutting from collapsed walls, graffiti sprayed over rust. Shadows hung thicker than smoke inside.

Malik leaned close, whispering, “Feels wrong. Like walking into a trap.”

Jayden’s gaze swept the cracked concrete floor. Too clean. No dust. No rats skittering. And the silence it was not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of people holding their breath.

His jaw clenched. Razor was here. And Razor wasn’t alone.

“Stay close,” Jayden murmured to Malik. “No matter what.”

Tariq unslung the pistol from his waistband, tucking it against his thigh. “Why’d you agree to this, Jay?”

“Because if I didn’t, Razor would have painted me a coward. And a coward don’t lead.”

They stepped into the hollow belly of the warehouse. A single lantern burned in the center, perched on an oil drum. Around it stood Razor and half a dozen of his men, steel glinting in their hands. Machetes. Blades. Not guns.

Knives made it personal.

Razor’s smile stretched thin, like the edge of a wound. “Jayden. You came.”

Jayden’s eyes flicked to the circle of men, then back. “You called. I answered. What’s this about?”

Razor spread his arms. “Respect. You’ve been taking corners that ain’t yours. Vendors whisper your name, kids cheer when you walk past. That ain’t survival anymore, Jay. That’s ambition. And ambition without permission is a crime.”

Jayden stepped closer to the lantern, shadows cutting his features sharp. “Permission? Last I checked, no one gave me bread, no one saved my skin. I carved my place with my own hands. Ain’t nobody’s to take.”

The men shifted. Knives caught the lantern’s flame, flashing like hungry teeth.

Malik’s small hand tugged Jayden’s sleeve. He whispered, voice trembling, “They mean to kill us.”

Razor tilted his head, eyes sliding to the boy. “Well, well. The little rat returns. You keep strange company, Jayden. Stray dogs and half-dead kids. That’s your empire?”

Jayden’s blood boiled, but he didn’t blink. “Careful, Razor. Stray dogs bite hardest when cornered.”

Razor chuckled low. “Then let’s see you bite.”

He snapped his fingers.

The shadows moved.

From the rafters and broken doors, more figures poured in ten, fifteen men, blades drawn. The circle tightened. Steel scraped against steel as they dragged the knives across the concrete floor, a hiss like snakes waking.

Tariq raised his gun, eyes blazing. “Jay, we’re boxed.”

Jayden’s heart hammered. He had expected betrayal, but not this many. Razor hadn’t come to talk. He’d come to finish.

“Kill him,” Razor said simply.

The knives rushed in.

The first swing came for Jayden’s throat. He ducked, feeling the blade whisper past his skin. His elbow cracked into the attacker’s ribs. The man wheezed, but another lunged immediately. Jayden snatched the lantern and smashed it into the second man’s face. Fire sprayed, smoke curling up. The warehouse filled with screams.

“Malik, down!” Jayden roared.

The boy dropped flat, covering his head. Tariq’s pistol thundered, dropping two men, but the echo only fed the frenzy. Knives slashed from every side. Jayden kicked one attacker back, seized another’s wrist, and twisted until bone snapped.

Razor stood just beyond the chaos, watching with cold delight.

“You wanted power, Jayden,” he shouted above the screams. “But power always draws blood!”

Jayden’s arm burned as a blade sliced his forearm. He grabbed the attacker’s head, slammed it against the oil drum until blood slicked the metal.

“Stay with me!” Tariq yelled, firing until his clip clicked empty. He swung the gun like a club, cracking skulls.

Malik crawled toward the wall, small hands fumbling for a loose pipe. He swung it clumsily at the nearest thug, connecting with a sickening crunch. The man toppled. Malik froze, horrified at what he had done.

Jayden yanked him back to his feet. “Don’t freeze, kid. You fight or you die!”

Another wave surged. Knives flashed. Tariq took a slash across the shoulder, staggering. Jayden drove his knee into an enemy’s gut, then rammed the man’s own blade up under his jaw. Hot blood sprayed his face.

Razor’s laughter cut through the madness. “Look at you! Killing your way to the top. Just like me.”

Jayden snarled. “I’ll never be like you.”

But the circle was closing. Too many blades, too little space.

Tariq bled. Malik trembled. Jayden’s arms grew heavy. For every thug he dropped, two more closed in.

Then Jayden saw it an opening in the far wall, where metal sheets had peeled loose. If they could break through, they might survive.

“Tariq! The wall!”

Together, they pushed, slicing, shoving, until Jayden kicked the loose sheet free. Cold night air rushed in.

“Go!” Jayden shoved Malik through first, then Tariq. Knives bit into his back as he followed, hot pain ripping across his flesh. He stumbled into the alley, blood soaking his shirt.

Behind them, Razor’s voice echoed, chilling.

“Run, Jayden! Run while you can. But remember this every street, every shadow, every corner bleeds with knives. And all of them point at you.”

They staggered through the alleys, lungs burning, wounds screaming. Malik clutched Jayden’s hand, face pale with terror. Tariq stumbled, blood dripping.

When at last they collapsed against a wall, Jayden pressed a hand to his torn back. His vision swam.

Malik whispered, “Why didn’t he kill us when he could?”

Jayden’s jaw tightened. “Because Razor wants me alive long enough to suffer. He wants me broken.”

Tariq spat blood. “Then he’s making a mistake. He should’ve finished it tonight.”

Jayden’s eyes burned with fury, sharper than the pain of his wounds. “No. Razor just showed me his hand. He wants me hunted. Cornered. Cut into pieces by fear. But I don’t break.”

He looked at Malik, then Tariq, his voice iron.

“This ain’t the end. It’s the beginning. Razor wants war? I’ll bring him a storm of knives he won’t walk away from.....

As Jayden spoke, Malik’s eyes widened. He pointed with a trembling finger.

“Jayden… look.”

Across the alley, painted in dripping red across a crumbling wall, were words that hadn’t been there before:

“ZURI IS NEXT.”

Jayden’s blood ran cold. His enemies weren’t just hunting him anymore they were reaching for the only family he had left.