Supreme Demon Emperor Returns

5. The Informant’s Bloody Trail

The freshly exhaled smoke froze in the air. The hellish blue light from Xavier’s eyes reflected off the phone screen, making the text look like two dancing spirits. The sensation of glass shards tearing through his right bicep seemed to vanish, replaced by a cold that pierced through to his very marrow.

"Fenrir! Lyra!"

The warehouse’s steel door flew open instantly. Lyra entered with a quick stride, followed by Fenrir, whose expressionless face looked even more lethal under the dim glow of the bulb.

"What is it, Boss?" Lyra asked, her eyes immediately fixing on the phone screen in Xavier’s hand.

Xavier didn't answer. He tossed the phone toward Lyra. The demoness caught it with one hand without a change in expression. After reading the message, her cynical smile vanished.

"Damn it," she hissed. "Isabella isn't wasting time. She knows Arthur is the only one of your grandfather’s spies left."

"I don't care," Xavier said, forcing himself to stand. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest. He had to lean against the brick wall to fight off a sudden wave of dizziness. "Get the car ready. We’re going to Brooklyn now."

"Boss, with all due respect, you haven't recovered," Fenrir interrupted, his voice deep and heavy like granite. "Your arm will tear again if you force it."

"Then let it tear," Xavier snapped back. "Arthur risked his life to give me that evidence. I will not let him die alone." He fixed his demonic guards with a stare that brooked no argument. "Understood?"

Lyra and Fenrir exchanged a brief look, then both bowed their heads.

"Understood, Boss," Lyra replied. "The car will be ready in two minutes. I’ll track Arthur’s phone signal and hack the CCTV around his location."

The drive from the Bronx to Brooklyn felt like an eternity. Heavy rain lashed against the windshield of the unbranded black sedan. Fenrir drove with a manic speed, slicing through New York’s night traffic as if he owned the asphalt. In the back seat, Xavier sat with his eyes closed, trying to steady his labored breathing. Lyra sat in the front passenger seat, her fingers dancing across a tablet screen with inhuman speed.

"Okay, I have visuals," Lyra reported. "Arthur’s apartment is on the fifth floor. I’m detecting six heat signatures in and around his unit. Two in the lobby, two on the fire escape, and two more inside the unit. They aren't common thugs, Boss. Their formation is professional. Military gear. This is a clean-up team from a private contractor."

"Blackwater?" Xavier asked without opening his eyes.

"Or something like it," Lyra answered. "Isabella isn't playing games. She hired the best hounds to bury her mess."

"Good," Xavier said. "Trained hounds are easier to predict than rabid ones."

"They have the technological advantage," Lyra continued. "Night-vision goggles, silencers, motion sensors. We’re going in blind."

Xavier opened his eyes. The faint blue glow reignited within them. "Every business has a weak point, Lyra. To destroy a company, you cut the capital flow. To blind a soldier, you cut the power."

Lyra smiled in comprehension. "Brilliant. I can hack the building’s main panel and kill the electricity for the entire block. But only temporarily. Ten minutes at most before city technicians bring it back online."

"Ten minutes is more than enough," Xavier said. He turned to Fenrir. "When the power goes out, you enter through the front door. Cause as much chaos as possible. Slaughter the two in the lobby, then head up the main stairs. Make yourself their target."

"With pleasure," Fenrir grunted, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel.

"Lyra and I will enter through the roof," Xavier continued. "Lyra, your job is to cripple their comms and block any emergency calls to the police. I don't want NYPD sirens interrupting my party."

"Consider it done, Boss," Lyra replied, typing a series of codes into her tablet.

The car stopped in a dark alley two blocks from Arthur’s apartment. The rain intensified, masking their movements.

"I’ll cut the power in five minutes," Lyra said.

Xavier nodded. He took a small earpiece from Lyra and fitted it into his ear. "Fenrir, you know your task. Leave no one alive."

Fenrir gave a single nod before stepping out of the car and vanishing into the darkness.

"Are you sure you can do this, Boss?" Lyra asked, her tone carrying a hint of concern. "Your injury."

"I only need my brain for this one," Xavier cut her off. "Let’s go."

The two of them exited the car, blurring across the rooftops with supernatural speed. Reaching the roof of Arthur’s apartment building, they found the access door locked tight. Xavier took a step back.

"Lyra, countdown," he commanded.

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Now."

The moment Lyra finished counting, the entire block was plunged into total darkness. Streetlights, apartment windows, everything went black. Panicked shouts erupted from several units below.

Simultaneously, Xavier slammed his good left shoulder into the roof door. The steel door tore from its hinges with a resounding boom. They moved in.

"Boss, I’m in," Fenrir’s voice crackled through the earpiece. The sound of muffled gunshots and stifled screams followed. "Two targets in the lobby neutralized. I’m heading for the stairs."

"Good. Keep them busy," Xavier replied. He and Lyra descended the emergency stairs quickly and silently.

Through the earpiece, the gunfire grew more frantic.

"Damn it! What the hell is that?" A panicked voice came through the frequency Lyra had intercepted. "He isn't human! Bullets aren't working! I repeat, bullets aren't working!"

"Calm down, Alpha-Two!" another voice barked, sounding more professional. "Hold your positions! Bravo Team, guard the hostage upstairs! Do not let him go!"

Xavier stopped at an air vent on the fourth floor. "Lyra, you handle Bravo Team on the fifth floor. I’m going in through here."

"Be careful, Boss. I’m detecting laser sensors inside the vents."

"I know."

Xavier tore the vent cover off with his left hand. He crawled into the narrow, suffocating tunnel. With his demonic eyes, he could see the thin red lines of the laser sensors ahead. His large frame barely fit, and every movement made his right arm feel like it was being sliced by a hot blade. He ignored it.

Below, the sound of Fenrir rampaging grew closer. He heard the sound of breaking bones and the thud of bodies hitting concrete.

"He’s on the third floor! He’s butchering Charlie Team! Fall back! Fall back to the fifth floor!" a panicked voice screamed over the comms.

Xavier smirked. Fenrir was doing his job perfectly. Shifting through the pain, he moved through the laser grid as nimbly as a spider. He reached a vent cover directly above the fifth-floor corridor.

Beneath him, two heavily armed mercenaries stood guard in front of Arthur’s apartment. They were tense, aiming their rifles toward the stairs.

"Where is Lyra?" Xavier whispered into the earpiece.

"Right behind them, Boss. Awaiting your command," Lyra replied.

"Now."

The moment Xavier spoke, the emergency lights in the corridor suddenly exploded, showering sparks and plunging the hallway back into darkness. The two mercenaries jumped.

"Shit! Now what?"

Before they could activate their flashlights, two sharp shadow-blades shot out from the darkness behind them, piercing their throats without a sound. They were Lyra’s shadow-daggers. Both bodies collapsed before they could cry out.

Xavier kicked out the vent cover and dropped down. He landed smoothly in the dark corridor.

The door to Arthur’s apartment was slightly ajar.

Fenrir arrived at the end of the hall, his body drenched in the blood of his enemies. "Clear, Master."

Xavier signaled for silence. He approached the door slowly. The thick, metallic scent of blood immediately stung his nostrils. It was the same smell from the bottom of the ravine. The smell of death.

He pushed the door open with the tip of his boot.

The door swung wide, revealing a scene from hell. The room was a wreck. Furniture was overturned. Walls were riddled with bullet holes.

In the center of the room, Arthur hung from the ceiling by chains. His body was a map of lacerations and bruises. Blood dripped from his fingertips, forming a small pool on the parquet floor. The old man was barely conscious.

Standing beneath him, a man in a black ski mask leveled a suppressed pistol directly at Arthur’s head. He was the final member of the clean-up crew.

The man turned toward Xavier, his eyes narrowing behind the mask. "One more step, and this old man’s brains are going on the ceiling."