Rise of the Street King

Chapter 78 — The Inspector

The smoke of the execution still clung to the streets, rising like a curse from the square where the elder’s blood had soaked into the dirt. Jayden had walked away without looking back, though his shadow seemed heavier that night. The Council had fractured; whispers of betrayal had cut deep, and the lesson he had carved into the stones was unmistakable. But even as he tried to hold the city’s underworld by its throat, another kind of pressure was tightening around him. The kind that couldn’t be silenced with a knife in an alley or a torch set to a rival’s den.

The police.

Not the corrupt ones who had always taken envelopes and closed their eyes. Not the usual half-drunk detectives that looked the other way so long as their bellies stayed full. This one was different. Inspector Idris. Word traveled fast in the underworld, and it carried his name like a cold wind. A man who did not take money. A man who didn’t drink on the job. A man who had refused the envelopes slipped his way more times than people could count. And worse he was smart.

Jayden first heard of him when two of his laundering fronts went dark in one week. A gambling den that usually scrubbed cash through rigged dice games was raided, not by uniforms hungry for bribes, but by a clean team with sealed warrants. No one tipped them off in time. The second was a small cargo outfit near the docks, a company that existed only on paper but somehow carried his funds across borders. Shut down. Accounts frozen.

At the table that night, his lieutenants reported losses in tight voices. Malikah, her face still shadowed by the pain of accusation but unbroken in her loyalty, said it straight: “He’s cutting off your blood flow. Whoever this inspector is, he’s tracing your money back to you.”

Jayden leaned back, fingers drumming against the wood. Razor had tried to cut his head with blades and fire. Mama Nuru had poisoned him with half-truths and betrayal. Now the city itself was pressing down through this man, Idris. A new kind of enemy.

“Bring me his file,” Jayden said at last.

The next day, Amara slid a folder across the table. It wasn’t much, and that worried him more than anything. The inspector lived in a modest apartment in the city’s middle district, no wife, no children. He had a clean record, a reputation for fairness. No debts, no addictions, no weaknesses. Jayden studied the black-and-white photo clipped to the front. A man in his late thirties, dark eyes that seemed to pierce through the camera itself. The kind of eyes that didn’t flinch.

“Everyone has a price,” Stone grunted.

“Then find his,” Jayden replied.

A meeting was arranged, quietly. A mutual contact at a bar near the edge of the slums delivered the invitation, wrapped in polite words that didn’t carry threats. Just a man who wanted to “smooth tensions.”

Inspector Idris showed up. He didn’t dress like authority plain shirt, worn jacket, no badge in sight. But when he walked into the room, even Stone shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. Jayden dismissed his men and faced the inspector alone.

“Sit,” Jayden offered, pouring a drink.

Idris didn’t. “Save your liquor. Let’s speak plainly. You want me off your back.”

Jayden smiled faintly. “I want peace. You’re making trouble for businesses that don’t need more bloodshed. I’m prepared to make it worth your time to walk away.”

The inspector’s gaze hardened. “You think money solves everything. But I don’t take bribes. You don’t understand what you’re facing, Cole. You’re not just some street boss anymore. You’re climbing, and men like me we’re sent to burn ladders like yours before they touch the sky.”

Jayden’s hand tightened on the glass. He had expected defiance, maybe even threats. But there was no fear in Idris’s voice, no bargaining chip to grasp. Only certainty.

“I’ll give you one warning,” Idris continued. “Keep pushing and you’ll find me at your throat, not your door.” Then he turned and walked out, leaving the drink untouched, the air heavier than before.

That night, Jayden called his crew. “If he can’t be bought, then he’ll be broken. Dig. Everyone has shadows. If he doesn’t, we’ll paint some on his walls.”

They went to work. Rumors spread in bars, whispers planted in markets. Anonymous tips suggested Idris pocketed evidence, or leaned on informants until they broke. A quiet bribe was slipped into one of his subordinate’s hands with just enough witnesses to make it seem like Idris approved it. A campaign of dirt, crafted with care, designed to tarnish the man’s spotless record.

But Idris didn’t bend.

Instead, he moved faster. Raids increased. Fronts crumbled. Jayden’s pawns were arrested before they even knew they’d been compromised. It was as if the inspector had expected the counterattack.

Then came the hammer blow.

At a press briefing, Idris stood before flashing cameras, voice steady. He spoke of corruption, laundering, and networks of power feeding off the slums. And then he produced something Jayden hadn’t expected a witness.

The cameras turned as a figure was led forward. Hooded at first, then revealed. A face Jayden knew too well.

Amara.

His heart slammed against his ribs. She stood there, not broken or beaten, but calm, eyes flicking only once at the lens. Idris announced her as a witness willing to testify about meetings between Jayden’s organization and city officials. She would claim to have been present when envelopes changed hands, when promises were made.

For a moment, Jayden thought he was hallucinating. Amara the one who had saved him in weakness, the one who whispered warnings of police in the dark, the one whose loyalty he had trusted even when everyone else faltered standing under the lights, her name tied to betrayal.

His men watched in silence as the broadcast played out. Stone cursed low under his breath. Malikah’s fists clenched.

Jayden said nothing. He only stared at the screen, at the woman who had stood beside him through fire, now standing with the man who swore to destroy him.

The inspector’s voice echoed, final, cutting through the chaos inside his mind:

“This witness will reveal how deep the rot goes. Even those closest to power are not immune.”

And the feed ended, leaving the room in a silence heavier than gunfire.

Jayden’s glass shattered in his hand.