Rise of the Street King

Chapter 30: Collapse

The sun had barely cracked the horizon when Jayden jolted awake to someone shaking him hard. Tariq’s face loomed above him, drenched in sweat, eyes wild with panic.

“Jay! Get up!”

Jayden shot upright, heart hammering, hand instinctively reaching for the pistol under his pillow. His vision sharpened as the warehouse came into focus.

Empty.

The long row of bunks that had been filled with bodies just hours ago lay deserted, blankets tossed aside, gear scattered. Some bunks looked like they’d been packed in a hurry, others like the men had simply vanished into smoke.

Half the crew was gone.

Jayden’s stomach dropped like stone.

“What the hell happened?” His voice was sharp, ragged, already on the edge of fury.

Tariq paced like a wolf in a cage, fingers tugging at his braids. “I don’t know, man! I woke up and they were just gone. Moe, Richie, two of the new kids hell, even Sosa. Vanished. No noise, no fight. Just ghosted.”

Jayden’s jaw clenched, veins throbbing in his temple. He rose, sweeping his eyes across the abandoned warehouse. Weapons missing from the racks. A duffel bag half-zipped with nothing but scraps inside. Bottles from last night’s celebration still on the floor, the stink of stale liquor clinging to the air.

It didn’t feel like desertion.

It felt like theft.

“Check the doors,” Jayden barked.

Tariq sprinted to the back, rattled the lock, then cursed. “Forced. Someone picked it clean. They didn’t even bother breaking it just slid through like ghosts.”

Jayden’s fists curled so tight his knuckles cracked. “They didn’t leave. They were taken.”

Tariq spun on him. “Taken? By who? Razor? The Fangs? Both?!”

Jayden’s mind replayed the night before. Razor raising that glass with his sly grin. The stranger watching too closely. The poison meant to kill him.

It was too perfect. Too coordinated.

This wasn’t chaos. This was war strategy.

Jayden moved fast, storming across the warehouse, overturning crates, searching for anything left behind. Tariq followed, frustration boiling in his voice.

“Jay, talk to me! Half our muscle just vanished, and you’re tearing up the floorboards like answers are hiding there!”

Jayden stopped, eyes narrowing at the corner of the room where something glinted beneath a bunk. He crouched, fingers pulling out a folded scrap of paper.

The handwriting was jagged, messy, but the message was clear:

“One king too many. We chose our side. Don’t look for us.”

Jayden’s chest burned as he crushed the note in his fist.

“Traitors,” Tariq spat, voice shaking with rage. “Cowards ran to the Fangs. After everything after bleeding with us they sold us out.”

Jayden’s voice came low and deadly, each word dripping with venom. “No. They didn’t choose. They were bought. Razor’s poison failed, so the Fangs sweetened their tongues with promises. Bread. Safety. Gold. Maybe even power.”

Tariq slammed his fist into the wall, splintering wood. “So what now? We’re down to scraps! Half the crew’s gone, Jay. If the Fangs roll in tonight, we’re finished.”

Jayden turned slowly, his shadow long in the dim morning light. His eyes burned with something beyond anger something sharper, colder.

“Then we don’t wait for them to roll in. We make the first move.”

Tariq blinked, stunned. “First move? Against the Fangs? Jay, they’ve got numbers, guns, money. We’ve got… what? Ten men, maybe less, and a warehouse with a leaky roof!”

Jayden stepped closer, his voice a growl. “You think numbers win wars? No. Fear does. Loyalty does. And right now, the Fangs are spreading poison through these streets fear of them, doubt in us. We kill that poison by cutting deeper. We make an example. Not of their soldiers. Not of their rats. Of their leaders.”

Tariq stared at him, silence thick. “You’re talking suicide.”

Jayden’s lips curved into something that wasn’t a smile. “I’m talking survival. You think the crew left because they didn’t believe in me? No. They left because they think the Fangs are untouchable. We show them otherwise, they’ll crawl back on their knees.”

For a moment, the only sound was the hum of the broken stereo still faintly alive from last night, whispering static.

Tariq exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You’re insane. But damn it, I’ve followed you this far. Where do we start?”

Jayden turned, eyes burning toward the door. “We start by finding Razor.”

By noon, whispers crawled through the streets. Word of the vanished crew spread faster than fire in dry grass. Some said Jayden’s men had abandoned him, others claimed Razor had turned them, others swore the Fangs had already wiped them out and Jayden was next.

The slums thrived on rumor, and Jayden felt every eye on him as he moved. He didn’t hide. He wanted them to see. He wanted the whispers to keep circling.

Because whispers were power. Whispers could kill faster than bullets or crown kings.

Tariq walked at his side, his hand twitching near his waistband, ready for a fight. The few loyal men left trailed behind, tense and watchful.

They found Razor at a gambling den on the edge of Iron Fang territory. The room went quiet when Jayden pushed through the door, his presence slicing through the smoke and noise.

Razor sat at a table, dice in hand, grin spread across his face like he’d been waiting.

“Jayden,” Razor drawled, tossing the dice lazily. “Didn’t think you’d come so soon. Heard you had a rough night.”

Jayden didn’t waste time. He strode forward, grabbed Razor by the collar, and slammed him against the table so hard the dice scattered.

“You sold them,” Jayden hissed, voice low and venomous.

Gasps circled the room, chairs scraping back, but no one moved.

Razor chuckled, even as Jayden’s grip tightened. “Sold them? Please. Men aren’t property. They made their choice. Maybe they got tired of following a boy with big dreams and too many enemies.”

Jayden’s fist cracked across his jaw, snapping his head sideways. The room exploded with noise, men shouting, weapons scrapin but Razor waved them down, blood dripping from his lip, his smirk never fading.

“You hit like a king already,” Razor said, voice dripping with mockery. “But kings need crowns. And last I checked, the Fangs own this city’s crown.”

Jayden’s eyes burned hotter, his voice a whisper meant for Razor alone. “You think crowns are given? No. They’re taken. And when I take mine, I’ll carve it from your skull.”

For a moment, the mask slipped. Razor’s smirk faltered, his eyes flashing with something darker. Then it was back, sly and infuriating.

“Then come for me, Jayden. But don’t blink. Because when you do… you’ll find everyone you love already gone.”

Jayden shoved him back into his chair, turning to leave before the tension snapped into bloodshed. Tariq followed, shoulders tight, whispering furiously. “You should’ve killed him. Right there. Right now.”

Jayden shook his head. “No. Razor’s more valuable alive. His arrogance is bait. He’ll lead me to the Fangs.”

And deep inside, Jayden knew the truth: Razor wasn’t just a rival anymore. He was the key to this war.

That night, Jayden sat alone in the warehouse, the silence crushing. The bunks still empty, the laughter of last night now a ghost.

He closed his eyes and saw Zuri’s face in the bakery line, clutching a single coin. He saw the burned boy watching him with wide eyes. He saw Tariq, loyal to the end, and Razor, grinning like a wolf in the dark.

Collapse wasn’t the end. Collapse was the test.

If the streets wanted to see him fall, he’d give them a show. But when he rose again, it would be higher than before, sharper than before, hungrier than ever.....

As Jayden sat in the silence, a single bullet shattered the warehouse window, embedding in the wall inches from his head. He dove for cover, pistol drawn but when he looked outside, the street was empty. Only a scrap of paper fluttered in the wind, caught on the broken glass.

He yanked it free and read the words, written in the same jagged hand as before:

“Next time, we won’t miss.”

Jayden’s blood boiled as he crumpled the note in his fist. The Fangs weren’t just coming.

They were already here.