2025-07-29 22:35:36It began like a typical club scuffle. Just two big men dragging an unwilling woman to some dark corner where their boss waited, grinning like the serpent he was named after. She kicked, squirmed, and shouted, but her efforts were wasted against their iron grips. Her red dress shimmered under the neon lights, the heels of her Prada shoes scraping the marble floor with every attempted step. A spectacle… yet not a single soul dared intervene.
Only one man did.
Ethan.
The two enforcers barely noticed him at first—a lanky figure standing calmly in their path. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t raise his voice. He simply spoke with a quiet command.
“Put her down and walk away.”
The first man paused, his lips curled into a smirk as he sized up Ethan.
“Are you drunk?” he sneered. “Or just plain lost?”
Ethan didn’t respond with anger. His eyes were ice. His stance, still. His tone, dangerous.
“That wasn’t a suggestion.”
A heavy silence dropped like lead in the room. Heads turned. Glasses froze mid-air. It was happening again—the same fool who had tried to stop them earlier was doubling down.
“Who’s this fool?” a man muttered.
“He’s dead,” a woman hissed, clutching her drink.
“You’ve got three seconds to walk away before we show you how things work around here,” the thug warned.
Ethan’s gaze didn’t budge. “By the time you finish that count, if she’s still in your hands, you’ll wish you’d never been born.”
The man scowled and began the countdown.
“One.”
Ethan didn’t move.
“Two…”
Mela, the head waitress, dashed between them like a panicked guardian angel.
“Please!” she begged, facing the thugs. “He doesn’t know who you are—he’s new here! Just… forgive his ignorance. Let this go.”
She turned to Ethan, her hand gripping his arm tightly.
“Do you have a death wish?” she whispered fiercely. “You’re playing with fire—hellfire. Even if you somehow beat these two, you think you’ll survive Cobra? The Red Serpent? Walk. Away. Now.”
But Ethan’s eyes weren’t on her. They were fixed on the woman, still hoisted over the thug’s shoulder like a trophy. Her heels dangled, her pride bruised. Rage burned in her eyes, but so did fear
Mela’s warning—Red Serpent’s reach, Cobra’s cruelty—meant nothing to the man who’d tamed Fort-tight’s kings.
Ethan’s jaw tightened. He said nothing.
The thug gave an exaggerated shrug. “Spared by grace,” he said mockingly. “Mela just handed you your only free ticket in this city.”
The men turned and carried the woman to the lounge at the back. A velvet platform, golden curtains, thick cigar smoke, and Cobra seated at the heart of it all like a cheap emperor with his entourage of thugs and plastic beauties.
The woman was dropped unceremoniously on the leather sofa in front of him, her Prada bag tumbling, her hat falling to the floor. She adjusted her dress quickly and looked at him with disgust.
Cobra leaned forward, his velvet suit gleaming, a cigar smoldering between his fingers. “Why’d you let that punk go?” he snapped, eyes narrowing at his men.
The first man shrugged, his chain glinting. “Mela’s call—she’s good to us.” Cobra waved it off, his gaze sliding to the woman.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked with a snake-like smile. “I like to know the names of the women I enjoy.”
She didn’t respond.
His grin twitched into a frown.
“Hey,” he growled, “I asked you a question.”
One of his men raised a hand, ready to strike.
“Don’t,” Cobra stopped him. “She’s too pretty. I don’t want bruises on her when I’m having fun tonight.”
He reached for her hair, his fingers grazing her auburn locks.
She slapped his hand away, her voice sharp despite the liquor. “Touch me again, and my family will bury you and your damn fraternity.”
Cobra’s laugh boomed, echoed by his crew and the booth’s women. “Who the hell are you, princess? Where’s this mighty family?”
He leaned closer, grabbing her hair, yanking her face to his. “I’ll have you, like it or not. And no one—not your family, not your make-believe guards—will stop me.”
Her eyes blazed, sober now, her voice a hiss. “You’re not fit to clean my security’s boots.”
The crowd joined Cobra’s laughter—“Security?” “She’s alone!”—their mockery a chorus.
“Where’s your mighty security now, princess?” he asked mockingly. “Did they drop you off at the door and vanish? Or maybe they don’t exist.”
He turned to his men, still laughing. “When I’m done with her, she’ll be too embarrassed to call anyone.”
“Take her to my room,” he ordered.
The men stepped forward—
A voice cut through, clear and commanding. “I’m her security.”
Ethan stepped into the lounge, his slim frame dwarfed by the booth’s shadows, his face calm but eyes burning.
The crowd erupted in laughter, glasses clinking, phones flashing.
“This guy?”
“He’s toast!”
The woman’s eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief—she might’ve laughed if fear hadn’t gripped her.
He stepped forward, hands still in his pockets, shoulders relaxed. His eyes swept across the room, and when they landed on Cobra, there was a pause.
The two goons from before groaned.
“You again?”
“You’re really begging for it,” the first said, stepping forward. “Get on your knees and apologize to our boss before we start with your arms.”
Ethan didn’t flinch.
He extended a hand toward the woman.
“Come with me. I’m here to protect you.”
The crowd’s laughter peaked—“Superman wannabe!” “He’s drunk!”
The lady blinked, unsure whether to be horrified or impressed. He looked like he had nothing—no weapons, no backup… just an iron will and a calm presence.
She didn’t move.
The second thug didn’t wait any longer.
He swung.
The punch came fast—wild, powerful, a street-trained haymaker aiming right for Ethan’s temple.
Mela and the woman gasped, “Stop!”—their pleas drowned by the crowd’s cheers.
But then—
Crack.
A grotesque sound echoed through the lounge.
The man froze mid-motion, his face transforming from rage to confusion… to horror.
Everyone looked, expecting Ethan’s face to crumple.
His wrist was bent backwards at an impossible angle.
His elbow—shattered.
His shoulder—dislocated, twisted out of socket.
Bone pierced through skin.
Blood gushed.
He collapsed, screaming like a dying animal.
Gasps filled the lounge.
The second thug launched forward— too slow.
Ethan’s foot met his chest and sent him flying. Mid-air, his limbs twisted unnaturally before he hit the ground with a bone-snapping thud.
Both men—disabled in under five seconds.
The lounge froze.
Cobra stood, veins bulging in his neck.
“Who the hell are you?” he barked.
Ethan took a step forward.
“The lady’s bodyguard. I came to protect her from you… and your lapdogs.”
Even Mela, standing near the bar, gaped.
Who is this guy?
Cobra’s fists clenched.
“Kill him.”
The command was ice.
His remaining men surged forward in unison, seven of them.
They didn’t reach him.
An unseen force rippled through the air.
Suddenly, all seven were sent flying backwards—launched across the lounge, their bodies flipping and crashing into walls, tables, and each other like ragdolls caught in a storm.
The club went silent.
Ethan walked toward the lady.
She sat frozen.
He offered his hand. “You’re safe now.”
She took it. Trembling.
He gently lifted her to her feet and, without a word, carried her on his shoulder as if she weighed nothing.
The crowd parted like the sea.
Just then—
Cobra screamed. His pride couldn’t take it.
He lunged with a knife in hand, rage replacing reason.
Ethan turned casually, as if swatting a fly.
Whack.
The motion was so fast no one saw it clearly. But the result was brutal.
The blade flipped midair, and instead of piercing Ethan, it buried itself in Cobra’s chest.
He dropped like a broken doll.
Half his body went limp.
Paralyzed.
Blood trickled down the hilt of the blade.
Gasps and screams erupted.
Ethan didn’t look back.
He carried the woman across the floor, placed her gently where he had been sitting earlier, and poured her a glass of water.
She looked up at him, completely undone.
“Who… who are you?”
Ethan smiled faintly.
“Just a man who hates snakes.”
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Chapter 207: Visions like memories
Ethan lowered himself onto the woven mat, the coarse fibers a tactile anchor in the surreal chamber. He crossed his legs, rested his hands on his knees, and closed his eyes. The weight of the stone room, the scent of earth, the profound silence—it all pressed in, not as an assault, but as an invitation to dissolve.This was the same thing he had run away from back then that he was now finding himself performing again.But what choice had he got? He needed to complete this before he could think of facing Nathan for the sake of Emma and his unborn baby.“Breathe into the stillness,” the Grand Physician’s voice murmured, not from across the room, but seemingly from within the stillness itself. “The Quieting is not an erasure. It is a re-ordering. You will see the tapestry of your life. The threads of joy, of pain, of choice and consequence. Do not cling to them. Observe them as patterns in the weave. You will have visions. Keep an open mind. The mind that judges is the mind that suffers
Chapter 206: The sanctuary of stillness
They passed through corridors Ethan vaguely remembered, places of instruction and meditation. But the Grand Physician led him deeper than he had ever gone before, to a part of the compound that felt less like a building and more like a natural cave system that had been gently shaped. The air grew cooler, the scent of stone and damp earth replacing the incense.Finally, they entered a circular chamber. The ceiling was a natural dome of rock, with a single shaft of muted light falling from a hidden opening far above, illuminating the center of the room. In that pool of light was a simple mat of woven reeds. Around the perimeter, in deep shadow, stood nine smooth stone pillars, each carved with a single, complex symbol that seemed to shift in the low light.This was the Sanctuary of Stillness. The air itself felt thick, heavy with intention, as if sound went to die here.The Grand Physician gestured to the mat. "The place of unraveling."Ethan moved toward it, the gravity of the room pre
Chapter 205: The ‘Quieting’ Ritual
As Ethan drove to the Grand Physician’s the following morning, his hands tight on the wheel, his mind was a million miles away—or rather, decades.He wasn't navigating by GPS, but by muscle memory of a journey taken in a different life. The towering pines blurred into a green-grey wall, and with them, the present dissolved.“The focus is not to feel nothing, Ethan. That is the crude aim of a brute. The aim is to feel everything… and choose which sensation becomes action. The rest, you relegate to a silent room and lock the door.”The Grand Physician’s voice, dry as ancient parchment, echoed in his mind. He could see the austere training hall, the smell of sandalwood and cold stone. He’d been young, arrogant, flush with the early successes of the skills he’d already learned. The ‘Quieting’ had been presented as the final masterwork, the capstone. Not a new weapon, but the forging of an impregnable armory for the mind itself.And he’d walked away just before he could even get to underst
Chapter 204: Back To The Grand Physician
Ethan didn’t answer for a long moment. He pushed back from the desk, the chair rolling soundlessly on the thick rug. He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to the room, his silhouette tense against the glittering, indifferent cityscape.“I know my brother,” Ethan said, his voice hollow, stripped of all its usual command. “I know that Elizabeth Robbins would swallow broken glass before calling me for help. The fact that she did…” He bowed his head, a hand coming up to press against the cold glass. “It means she has exhausted every other option.”Ethan gave a single, jerky nod. The weight of it—the dual loss, the compounded violation—seemed to press him physically into the floor. “My brother understands currency. He understands leverage. He has just acquired the only two things in this universe I would trade the crown for. Not that I would ever be given the choice.”He strode back to the desk, not with purpose, but with a frantic, caged energy. He picked up the dead phone, s
Chapter 203: What do we do now?
Elizabeth’s phone slipped from her nerveless fingers, thudding softly onto the carpet. She didn’t hear it. All she heard was the roaring silence of a timeline that ended at seven o’clock.She was leaving.Four hours ago.The chill from the balcony was nothing compared to the glacial fear freezing her from the inside out. Every terrible possibility—the kind she’d spent years as a corporate wife learning to suppress—flooded her mind. An accident on the winding coastal road. A mugging in the city garage. Or worse, something deliberate, something linked to the crown, to the viper’s nest Emma had just been thrust into.Her gaze swept the room, landing on the family portrait from a decade ago—Richard’s arm around her, a young, smiling Emma between them. A perfect, painful lie. She was alone. Utterly alone with this terror.And then, unbidden, the most complicated, infuriating face of all surfaced in her mind: Ethan.She recoiled from the thought. Emma’s fury at him had been absolute, scorch
Chapter 202: Four hours ago
"You're operating under the assumption that Ethan and I are still connected. That I am leverage." Emma's voice was cold and sharp. "You're wrong. What happened with my grandfather severed that tie completely. I am done with Ethan. There is no loyalty to exploit, no affection to manipulate. Keeping me here is a pointless risk. Your quarrel is with him. Let me go, and you eliminate a complication. He will still come for you, for the crown. But you won't have an angry, resourceful hostage who has zero stake in his survival cluttering your operation."She delivered the speech with icy precision, every word a calculated move on this new, horrifying board. She was a redundant asset. A liability. She painted the picture with clear, logical strokes.And of course, that was what she thought. There was no point in dragging her into a sibling rivalry that she had no stakes in, and much worse, dragging her unborn child into it as well.Nathan listened, his head tilted. When she finished, he didn'
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