Rise of the Street King

Chapter 34: Smoke & Blood

Jayden’s chest still burned with every breath. The poison had nearly taken him, and though his body fought its way back from the brink, he was far from healed. The nights blurred together in fits of fever and sweat, his vision swimming in and out of clarity. Tariq stayed close, guarding their hideout like a wolf, while Malikah tended his wounds with bitter-smelling herbs she claimed would cleanse his blood.

But weakness was a dangerous luxury in the slums. Word spread fast Jayden was down, and when a lion limps, the jackals circle.

It came on the third night after the poisoning.

Jayden lay half awake on the thin mattress, his mind hazy, when the first scream tore through the silence. Tariq’s voice followed, sharp and furious, echoing through the metal walls of the abandoned warehouse they were using as shelter. Jayden tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled under his own weight.

The gunfire started.

Jayden’s blood iced. He forced his legs to move, staggering upright, grabbing the pistol Tariq had left beside him. His ribs ached with fire as he stumbled toward the noise.

The warehouse doors were wide open, the night spilling in. Tariq was already in the thick of it, exchanging bullets with shadows moving through the dark. Muzzles flashed like fireflies, each burst of light revealing figures armed with blades and guns. Malikah was crouched low, dragging crates into a makeshift barricade while shouting for Jayden to stay down.

But Jayden couldn’t hide. Not now.

He crouched by a broken window frame, forcing his shaky hands to steady the pistol. His first shot went wide, but the second caught one of the attackers in the shoulder. The man crumpled with a grunt, vanishing into the dark. Another rushed forward with a machete raised high, and Jayden barely managed to fire before the blade reached Tariq. The attacker fell, the machete clattering onto the concrete.

Jayden’s body screamed at him to collapse, but adrenaline drowned the pain. He forced himself into the fight, each step feeling like wading through fire.

“Back inside!” Tariq roared, shoving an enemy to the ground and slamming his boot into the man’s chest. “They’re trying to box us in!”

But Jayden saw it. This wasn’t just a random hit. Their attackers weren’t fighting like gang boys looking for a quick kill. They moved in waves, coordinated. Razor’s style.

The thought made Jayden’s blood boil hotter than his wounds.

A bottle shattered near the entrance, flames erupting across the floor. The bastards had brought Molotovs. Smoke filled the warehouse, thick and choking, and the glow of fire danced across the metal walls. The attackers howled with laughter, emboldened by the flames.

Jayden stumbled back, coughing, vision blurring in the smoke. But his rage steadied him. He wasn’t about to die choking on fumes like a rat in a cage.

He grabbed the fallen machete, the weight heavy but grounding in his hand. A figure burst through the smoke, rushing straight for Malikah, who was still dragging crates to block the fire. Jayden didn’t think he moved. The machete swung, biting deep into the attacker’s side. Blood sprayed hot across his hands. The man’s scream ripped through the chaos before his body crumpled.

Jayden froze for half a breath, staring at what he’d done. The machete dripped crimson. His stomach twisted not from sickness this time, but from the cold realization that he had crossed another line. Shooting from a distance was one thing. This was different. This was blood on his hands.

“Jayden!” Tariq’s voice snapped him out of the haze. “We move now!”

The flames were spreading fast, smoke clawing at their throats. Tariq kicked open a side door, and they fought their way through the alley beyond. The attackers gave chase, their shouts echoing through the night. Jayden’s legs screamed with exhaustion, but survival drove him forward.

They cut through backstreets and jumped fences until their lungs burned and their bodies felt ready to collapse. Finally, Tariq pulled them into a ruined apartment building, slamming the rusted door shut behind them. Silence swallowed the room, broken only by the sound of their ragged breathing.

Jayden dropped the machete. His hands trembled violently, blood still slick across his knuckles. He sank to his knees, the world tilting around him. Tariq crouched low beside him, gripping his shoulder.

“You saved us back there,” Tariq said, voice rough but steady.

Jayden shook his head, eyes locked on the blood drying on his skin. “I killed him. I… I didn’t even think. I just

“You didn’t have a choice,” Tariq cut in. “It was him or Malikah. You chose right.”

Malikah sat against the far wall, her face pale, her eyes locked on Jayden. There was no fear in her gaze, only something heavier. Respect.

Jayden forced himself upright, chest heaving. His voice was raw, but his words were sharp. “That wasn’t just some random crew. That was Razor. He’s making his move while I’m weak.”

Tariq’s jaw tightened. “Then we hit back before he thinks we’re finished.”

Jayden’s hand clenched around the blood-stained machete, lifting it again. He stared at his reflection in the dull metal, at the stranger he was becoming. Weakness was gone. Doubt was gone. The fire inside him was clearer now than ever.

“We’re not running anymore,” Jayden said, his voice low but full of steel. “Razor thinks smoke and fire can finish me? Then I’ll show him what it means to choke on your own game. From tonight, we hunt him.”

The words hung heavy in the smoke-stained air, a vow carved from blood and fire.

And though his body still trembled, Jayden knew one truth.

The streets had taken his innocence, his rest, even his health. But now, they would feed his hunger.

And he would not stop until Razor’s blood soaked the ground.