Rise of the Street King

Chapter 27: Razor’s Mask

The words bled down the wall like a wound.

ZURI IS NEXT.

Jayden stared until the letters swam in his vision. Blood roared in his ears. His hands curled into fists so tight that his nails tore skin.

“No,” he muttered, voice breaking like glass. “Not her.”

Malik shrank back, eyes wide, his pipe still clutched like a lifeline. Tariq grabbed Jayden’s shoulder, wincing as blood seeped from his own gash.

“This is Razor,” Tariq growled. “It’s gotta be. He’s telling you he knows where to cut deepest.”

Jayden’s mind spun. Razor had failed to gut him in the warehouse, but the message was clear: Jayden’s blood wasn’t enough anymore. He wanted to tear apart Jayden’s soul.

“We move now,” Jayden said, his tone like stone cracking. “I need to see her. Make sure she’s safe.”

Tariq shook his head, pained. “If you go near her, you’ll lead Razor straight to her door. He put this up to bait you, Jay. You walk right into it, you’re handing her over.”

Jayden’s heart hammered. Images of Zuri her thin hands clutching bread, her hopeful smile fought against Tariq’s words. He wanted nothing more than to break every door between them and pull her into his arms.

But Tariq was right. Razor was a serpent. He never struck once. He coiled, waited, and struck again when you moved exactly how he wanted.

Jayden swallowed hard, forcing steel into his veins. “Then I can’t go to her. Not yet. But I can make sure anyone who tries never comes back.”

By dawn, Jayden’s fury had cooled into strategy. His wounds burned, his shirt stiff with dried blood, but his eyes were alive sharper, darker than before. Malik dozed curled against the wall, but Jayden hadn’t closed his eyes once.

“We need to move careful,” Tariq said, lighting a cigarette with trembling fingers. “You saw Razor’s hand last night. He’s got bodies on bodies. If we come at him blind, he’ll drown us.”

Jayden nodded slowly. “Then we cut the snake where it’s weakest. He thinks he knows me. Thinks I’ll come running at the mention of Zuri. But what he don’t know is” He leaned closer, voice low. “I already have eyes on him.”

Tariq frowned. “What do you mean?”

Jayden pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Scrawled across it was a name and an address. “One of Razor’s own boys. Tired of scraps. Been feeding me whispers for weeks. He’ll talk.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say something?” Tariq demanded.

Jayden’s gaze was cold. “Because until last night, it didn’t matter. But now Razor made it personal. So now? Everything matters.”

They found the informant in a broken-down billiard hall, shutters hanging loose, pool tables scarred and rotting. The man sat alone, chewing sunflower seeds, eyes darting like trapped prey.

“Jayden,” he muttered when they stepped in. “You’re alive.”

Jayden crouched in front of him, close enough to feel his nervous sweat. “For now. Talk.”

The man licked his lips. “Razor’s not stupid. He knew the warehouse wouldn’t finish you. It was theater. A test to see who in his ranks hesitated when the blades came out. He saw who flinched. Who doubted. He’s cutting them out one by one.”

Jayden’s jaw tightened. Razor wasn’t just swinging knives. He was pruning his garden.

“And Zuri?” Jayden pressed.

The man swallowed hard. “He hasn’t touched her. Yet. But he knows where she lives. He’s letting the word spread. Fear’s worth more than action right now. If the streets believe your bloodline is on the line, they’ll start stepping away from you. They’ll say you’re cursed. Poisoned.”

Jayden’s knuckles cracked against the table, splintering the wood. “If he lays a finger on her

“He won’t,” the man cut in quickly. “Not yet. But he’s baiting you. And…” He hesitated, lowering his voice. “There’s talk of a deal. Razor’s been whispering to the Fangs. Trying to join forces.”

Tariq’s eyes went wide. “If Razor and the Iron Fangs tie hands, we’re done. No crew in the slums could stand against that.”

Jayden stood, shadows clinging to his face. “Then I break it before it ties. Razor wants me on my knees. But if he thinks I’ll kneel, he don’t know me at all.”

That night, Jayden walked straight into Razor’s den.

It was deliberate. Razor needed witnesses, so Jayden brought them to him. The gambling den buzzed with voices, dice clattering, bills sliding across tables. The stink of sweat and smoke filled the air.

Razor sat at the back, flanked by men, smile already fixed. “Jayden. Look who crawled out of the gutter after all.”

Eyes turned. The room stilled. Everyone waited.

Jayden strode up, ignoring the knives that slid from belts, ignoring Tariq’s hissed warning at his back. He stopped inches from Razor, their shadows colliding in the lamplight.

“You think painting threats on walls makes you king?” Jayden said, voice cutting. “You think dangling names makes me dance? You’re a clown, Razor. A loud dog with a sharper bark than bite.”

Gasps rippled. Men shifted. Razor’s smile never faltered, but his eyes gleamed like glass shards.

“You wound me, brother,” Razor said smoothly. “I bleed for this crew. I bled for you when no one else would. And this is what I get? Accusations? After the streets already whisper that you’re out of control?”

Jayden leaned closer, his words for Razor alone. “You tried to gut me in that warehouse. You failed. So now you hide behind games and paint. I see you, Razor. And when I move, you won’t see me until the blade’s already in your throat.”

For a heartbeat, their eyes locked two predators circling the same kill.

Then Razor laughed. Loud, theatrical. He threw an arm around Jayden’s shoulder like they were brothers again.

“Listen to him!” Razor shouted to the crowd. “The boy’s got fire, don’t he? That’s why I keep him close. Don’t mistake our little spats for weakness. Iron sharpens iron, and Jayden here? He’s sharp enough to cut steel.”

The crowd chuckled uneasily. Dice clattered again. Tension dissolved like mist.

But Jayden felt the knife beneath Razor’s mask.

And Razor knew he’d seen it.

Later, outside in the night air, Tariq cursed under his breath. “He played it off like you were brothers. Smiled through your spit. Half those men probably believe him.”

Jayden’s eyes were hard. “Let them. A mask don’t make a man. And Razor’s mask just told me one thing he’s afraid I’ll take what he thinks is his.”

Malik tugged Jayden’s sleeve, whispering, “Then what do we do now?”

Jayden crouched to the boy’s level, his voice iron. “We build. We grow. And when Razor’s mask cracks for real, we make sure there’s nothing under it but fear.”

He rose, shoulders squared, eyes on the horizon.

But in the shadows across the street, a figure lingered one of Razor’s men who had flinched in the warehouse. He watched Jayden walk away, expression torn between loyalty and survival.

And he slipped into the night, heading back to Razor.

Hours later, in Razor’s lair, the flinching man whispered everything he had heard.

Razor sat in silence, knife spinning between his fingers. Then he smiled a slow, thin smile.

“So. Jayden thinks he sees my mask.”

He set the knife down with a clatter, leaning back.

“Good. Let him. Because masks aren’t meant to hide. They’re meant to blind.”