Rise of the Street King

Chapter 31: Broken Empire

Jayden’s eyes snapped open to the sting of smoke in his lungs and the taste of iron on his tongue. His body ached like it had been dragged across the streets, beaten, and left for dead. His vision blurred before slowly focusing on a cracked ceiling.

The room smelled of sweat, blood, and cheap alcohol. A single bulb swung overhead, its dying light stuttering. He tried to sit up, but pain flared through his ribs. His stomach clenched, memories rushing back music, laughter, a drink in his hand… then darkness swallowing everything.

“About time you woke up,” Tariq’s voice came from the corner.

Jayden turned his head slowly. Tariq looked worse than him his face swollen, lip split, shirt torn. Blood was dried on his cheek like war paint.

“What happened?” Jayden’s voice was hoarse, each word scraping his throat.

“What happened?” Tariq spat to the side. “We got played, Jay. Poison in the drink. By the time I realized, half the crew was already on the floor. By the time I dragged you out, they came crashing in.”

Jayden’s stomach dropped. “Who?”

“Razor’s boys,” Tariq growled. “They knew exactly where to hit. Malikah fought like hell, but they outnumbered us. They took bodies, Jay. Alive. And the ones that didn’t make it… we had to leave them behind.”

Jayden’s fists clenched around the edge of the cot. “How many?”

Tariq’s jaw tightened. “Half. Maybe more.”

Silence stretched between them. The noise of the outside world seeped in the muffled shouts of vendors, the barking of dogs, the grinding sound of carts rolling over stone. Life went on while Jayden’s empire bled out on the floor.

He forced himself upright, ignoring the dizziness clawing at his skull. “Where are we?”

“Safehouse near the old textile factory. No one knows it but me and Malikah. For now, we’re ghosts.”

Jayden swung his legs over the side of the cot, his bare feet hitting the cold concrete. His hands trembled not from weakness, but from rage. “They thought they killed me.”

Tariq studied him carefully. “Jay… you were out cold. For two days. They could’ve finished you if they wanted.”

“That means they’re scared,” Jayden muttered. His eyes hardened. “Scared enough to hope poison and whispers could do the job instead of facing me head-on.”

Tariq sighed. “You keep thinking like that and it’ll get us both buried. We lost brothers out there. Malikah barely made it back alive, and now you’re talking about strength?”

“Because that’s all we’ve got left,” Jayden snapped. His voice echoed against the walls. “If I start grieving now, we’re done. Razor wins. Every rat in this slum will carve up what’s left of us.”

The door creaked open and Malikah stumbled inside. Her braids were messy, face bruised, arm in a rough sling. But her eyes still burned like fire.

“You’re awake,” she said flatly. “Good. Because we’re running out of time.”

Jayden studied her, guilt flickering across his face. “I should’ve seen it coming. That party—it was too easy, too loud. Razor fed me the bait and I swallowed it whole.”

“No use crying over poison already swallowed,” Malikah said, leaning against the wall. “The streets are buzzing. Word is, you’re dead. Razor’s boys are claiming it like a trophy.”

Jayden’s eyes narrowed. “Good. Let them celebrate too soon. We’ll make them choke on it.”

Malikah raised a brow. “And with what army? You saw what happened. We’re down to scraps.”

Jayden stood, his body swaying but his voice steady. “Then we build again. Piece by piece. Brick by brick. Out of blood if we have to.”

Tariq shook his head. “You don’t get it, Jay. You can’t just patch this up with swagger and rage. We’re hanging by a thread. One wrong step, and everything we’ve done goes up in smoke.”

Jayden stepped closer, locking eyes with him. “When has this game ever been about safe steps? We knew the cost from day one. Survive, adapt, rise that’s the only rule. And right now, I refuse to die crawling.”

Silence again, but this time heavier. Tariq looked away, fists clenched, torn between loyalty and fear. Malikah’s gaze never wavered.

Finally, Tariq muttered, “Then what’s the move?”

Jayden paced, each step measured. “First, we find out who fed Razor our location. There’s a snake in our house, and until I cut off its head, we’ll never sleep easy.”

Malikah nodded slowly. “You’ve got suspects?”

Jayden’s jaw tightened. He thought of the faces—laughing, drinking, swearing loyalty before the poison burned their throats. Shadows hung over each memory.

“One of ours talked,” Jayden said coldly. “And when I find out who… there won’t be enough concrete in this city to bury what’s left of him.”

Later that night, Jayden sat alone on the roof of the safehouse, the slums sprawling before him like a wounded beast. Fires burned in oil drums, kids played in dirty alleys, hustlers moved in shadows. The world hadn’t changed, but for him, everything had.

His empire small as it was lay in ruins. His crew broken, his name whispered as a ghost.

He pulled the knife from his belt, staring at the reflection of his tired eyes in the steel. “Broken empire,” he muttered. “But not finished. Never finished.”

The rooftop door creaked. Malikah stepped out, her sling replaced with a makeshift bandage. She lowered herself beside him.

“You keep talking like you’re invincible,” she said. “But I saw you, Jay. You were gone. Two days, not moving, barely breathing. For a second, I thought the streets had swallowed you too.”

Jayden didn’t look at her. “Maybe they did. Maybe the old Jayden died with them.”

Malikah’s eyes searched his face. “Then who’s sitting here now?”

Jayden turned, his gaze sharp, dangerous. “The one who’s going to burn everything Razor built to ash. The one who’ll never be caught slipping again.”

They sat in silence, the weight of his words heavy between them.

Below, the streets buzzed with life, oblivious to the storm gathering on the rooftop.

The next morning, Tariq burst into the room, panting, sweat rolling down his face.

“Jay!” he shouted. “You’re not gonna like this.”

Jayden rose quickly, knife in hand. “What?”

Tariq’s voice shook. “Razor’s put a price on your head. A bounty big enough to turn every hustler, thug, and rat in this city against you. They’re hunting, Jay. Hunting you.”

Jayden’s expression hardened into steel.

“Then let them come.”

Jayden, half-dead and rebuilding, now has an entire city gunning for him after Razor places a massive bounty on his head.