2023-07-07 18:37:35
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4-62
The iron blade collided with the Shaman’s skeletal claws. Sparks—bright, erratic bursts of amber and crimson electricity—showered the walls. The sheer impact sent a shockwave traveling up Andrew’s right arm, tearing the partially healed muscle fibers in his shoulder. He groaned, his boots skidding back three inches, but he didn't lower his guard."Foolish boy!" the Shaman’s multi-layered voice roared, the shadows at his base twisting like striking serpents, snapping at Andrew’s legs. "The artifact requires an unblemished vessel! A mortal body cannot handle the friction of a broken seal! You are burning your own life away!""Then I’ll make sure you burn with me," Andrew rasped, his eyes flashing with a deep, blood-refined crimson.He twisted the hilt of his sword, utilizing a close-quarters parry to slide the steel blade along the Shaman’s elongated fingers. With a sharp, sudden snap of his wrists, Andrew sheared off three of the blackened bone fragments embedded in the Shaman’s right
4-61
The private elevator plunged down the shaft of the Smith-William tower like a falling stone. Inside the metallic box, Andrew collapsed against the mirrored wall, his breath coming in ragged, shallow wheezes. The momentary surge of raw power that had allowed him to overpower Orlando and flash-step across the boardroom was completely gone.His body was paying the price. His left shoulder, twice wounded, was bleeding heavily, the dark crimson soaking through his torn tactical vest. His bound ribs felt as though they were grinding together with every expansion of his lungs. But as he reached into his tactical pouch and felt the cold, metallic cylinder containing the violet neurotoxin antidote, a grim smile touched his bloody lips.He had the cure.The elevator doors hissed open at the subterranean maintenance level. Viper was already waiting, his submachine gun lowered but his face taut with anxiety. Two 'Ghost' unit enforcers stood behind him, scanning the shadows."Boss!" Viper rushed f
4-60
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass walls of the grand boardroom at the end of the hall, the scene looked pristine, a stark contrast to the violence on the floors below. Ten members of the Smith-William board of directors sat around a massive, rectangular table made of petrified wood. At the head of the table stood Orlando, wearing a fresh tailored suit, though he couldn't completely hide the small piece of medical tape covering his fractured jaw from their encounter in the garage. Beside him stood Elena, her expression calm, precise, and utterly cold as she adjusted a stack of legal documents under the glow of the recessed lighting.Two elite Tang Clan enforcers stood guard at the double mahogany doors, their hands resting on the grips of their concealed automatic weapons. They spotted Andrew the moment he cleared the corner.Before their arms could lift, Andrew’s right hand whipped upward.Pfft. Pfft.The suppressed pops were swallowed by the low rumble of the thunder outside. The fi
4-59
Down in the subterranean maintenance tunnels beneath the financial district, the air was thick with the smell of stagnant water and industrial grease. Every movement was an exercise in pure willpower. The temporary surge from the Crimson Catalyst was entirely gone, and his body was paying the price for the structural damage he had sustained. His fractured ribs throbbed with a rhythmic, dull agony that threatened to steal his breath, and the flesh wounds on his shoulder were stiff and burning.But his eyes—once a flat, defeated grey—now held a sharp, dangerous glint of erratic amber and blue. The seal on his necklace was still fighting him, but the desperation was gone. It had been replaced by a cold, calculating intent."All feeds are looped, Boss," Viper whispered, stepping out of the dark corridor with a modified submachine gun slung across his chest. Behind him, six men of the 'Ghost' unit stood in absolute silence, their faces covered in matte-black balaclavas. "The central secur
4-58
The temporary surge from the Shaman’s Crimson Catalyst had finally burned out, leaving his muscles shaking violently from pure exhaustion. His vision threatened to blur into darkness every time he blinked, but he kept his eyes pinned to the rearview mirror.Beside him, William rested his head against the leather seat. The older man was breathing more steadily now, but the prolonged confinement and the insidious effects of the Black Shackle had taken a massive toll on his aging body. He was no longer the imposing tycoon who ruled the city’s underground; he was a convalescent clinging to the remnants of his willpower."We’re entering the perimeter," Andrew rasped, his voice barely louder than the hum of the windshield wipers.William shifted his gaze toward the window, looking at the decaying warehouses, the overflowing trash bins, and the flickering neon signs of the lawless district. "You built a sanctuary in a rat's nest, Andrew. Smart. The proud klan houses in the upper hills would
4-57
The air in the grand hall of the Smith mansion fractured."Kill him!" Orlando shrieked, backing out of the doorway. He didn't even look like a corporate tycoon anymore; he was a terrified child hiding behind a wall of hired muscle. "What are you waiting for? He doesn't have his full strength! Look at him, he’s shaking!"The dozen mercenaries raised their submachine guns, their laser sights painting red dots across Andrew’s chest and shoulders.Before the first trigger could be pulled, Andrew moved.He didn't have the god-like, effortless speed he once possessed—the seal on his meridians was still fighting him, making his movements jagged and heavy—but his mind was perfectly clear. He dropped low, his boots sliding through the slick mixture of spilled champagne and rain water, just as a hail of lead tore through the space where his head had been.The shattered glass from the crystal chandeliers rained down like a frozen storm.Andrew drove his fist into the floorboards. He didn't chann
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