The Return of The Phantom General

Blood Debt Paid in Blood

"Let go of me, you bastard! Don't touch me with your filthy hands! My mother is still inside; she needs her medicine!"

Lisa Thorne's scream shattered the silence of the slums on the outskirts of Zurich. Her voice was hoarse. However, the protest meant nothing to the burly man currently dragging her. The man's grip on Lisa's arm was so tight that the girl winced in pain.

"Shut up, Sweetheart. Mr. Sterling doesn't like women who are too noisy, unless that noise is a moan," the bodyguard said with a chuckle, dragging Lisa through the piles of dirty snow in the courtyard of the dilapidated apartment complex.

"Help! Someone, please call the police!" Lisa screamed again, her legs kicking at the air, trying to find footing on the slippery ice.

"Police?" Another voice answered. "In this city, I am the one who pays the police's salaries, my dear Lisa."

Julian Sterling stood beside a gleaming black Bentley. He wore an expensive fox fur coat. His face was handsome, typical of a Swiss tycoon. He puffed on a thin cigar, then exhaled the smoke toward Lisa's face, who had just been thrown by the bodyguard, landing flat on the snow.

"Cough! Julian... please," Lisa coughed, trying to get up, but her body shivered violently. She was only wearing a thin sweater with holes worn through the elbows. "Give us one more month. I will work overtime. I will pay off Mother's medical debt."

Julian laughed. He stepped forward, the tip of his shiny Italian leather shoe pressing down on Lisa's fingers as they rested on the snow.

"One month? Lisa, Lisa... do you think my family's bank is a charity?" Julian pressed his foot down harder. Lisa let out a stifled scream. "Five years ago, your pathetic family borrowed money to save your blind mother's life. And now? The interest has piled up to five million Francs. Do you have five million Francs in your pant pocket?"

"I... I will pay it in installments..." Lisa cried, her tears instantly freezing on her cheeks.

"No need for installments," Julian cut in, crouching down to grab Lisa by the hair and forcing the girl to look into his eyes. "Your body is quite good. Your skin is smooth, even if it is a little dirty. Be my mistress. Warm my bed every night, and maybe... just maybe, I will let your mother keep living in this rat hole."

"I would rather die," Lisa hissed, spitting in Julian's face.

Smack!

A hard slap landed on Lisa's cheek, sending her sprawling once again. The corner of her lip split, and fresh blood dripped onto the white snow.

"Bad choice," Julian stood up, wiping the spit from his face with a handkerchief, then throwing the handkerchief away as if it were contaminated with a contagious disease. "Put her in the car. And destroy the apartment. Let the old blind woman inside freeze to death."

"Yes, sir," two giant bodyguards moved forward.

Just as their hands were about to touch Lisa again, an old taxi turned the corner and screeched to a sudden halt in front of the apartment. The brakes squealed loudly, breaking the tension.

Everyone turned to look. Julian frowned, feeling annoyed. "Who is this now? Chase him away."

The taxi door opened.

A man stepped out. He wore a black jacket that looked far too old, the edges torn and the color faded. The military boots he wore were covered in dry mud. His hair was black and slightly messy, covering part of his eyes, which looked incredibly tired.

The man carried no suitcase. He carried no weapon. He simply stood there, staring at the shabby apartment building as if he were looking at a ghost.

"Hey! You there!" shouted one of Julian's bodyguards, stepping forward while unbuttoning his suit jacket to show off the pistol in his shoulder holster. "This is Mr. Sterling's private property. Scram, or I'll make you eat snow."

The man did not answer. He didn't even turn toward the bodyguard. His eyes slowly lowered, fixing on the figure of the girl lying in the snow with bleeding lips.

The man's gaze was empty, yet in the depths of his black pupils, something was churning. Like a calm ocean hiding a monster.

"Lisa?" the man asked. His voice was hoarse.

Lisa lifted her bruised face. Her eyes went wide with disbelief. She recognized the shape of that jaw, even though it was now covered by a thin beard. She recognized the small scar on that temple.

"B... Brother Caleb?" Lisa's voice trembled, hovering between hope and fear. "Brother... you're still alive?"

Julian Sterling narrowed his eyes, then burst into laughter. "Oh, look who came home from hell! Caleb Thorne! The fugitive rapist who ran to the border five years ago! I thought you were already fertilizer in a minefield."

Caleb finally shifted his gaze from Lisa to Julian.

"Julian Sterling," Caleb said flatly. His tone was casual, as if he were greeting an old acquaintance, not the enemy torturing his sister. "You still wear the same cheap perfume."

Julian's face turned red with rage. "And you are still the same trash. You arrived just in time to see your sister become my private whore. And your mother? Ah, maybe she will freeze to death any minute now."

Caleb remained expressionless. He reached into his coat pocket. Julian's bodyguards immediately tensed, their hands moving toward their guns. But Caleb only pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and matches.

Click.

A small flame lit up amidst the snowstorm. Caleb inhaled deeply, then exhaled white smoke into the air.

"Leave," said Caleb quietly. "Leave my sister alone. Leave this place. And I will let you live today."

Silence fell for a moment. Then Julian and his men erupted in laughter.

"Did you hear that?" Julian pointed at Caleb while holding his stomach. "He will let us live! This coward who ran from the law is threatening me!"

Julian snapped his fingers. His face twisted into cruelty. "Break his legs. Make him watch as I put his sister into the car."

The two largest bodyguards stepped forward. One of them, a bald man with a dragon tattoo on his neck named Boris, grinned as he pulled a steel baton from inside his jacket.

"Don't worry, kid. This will only hurt for a second," Boris mocked as he swung the iron bar toward Caleb's knee with full force.

"Brother! Run!" screamed Lisa.

But Caleb didn't run. He didn't dodge either. He just stood still, the cigarette still tucked between his lips.

When the iron bar was one inch from Caleb's knee, Boris's movement stopped.

Not because he stopped it, but because something held him back.

The air around them suddenly became heavy. The wind howled strangely, not like the sound of ordinary wind, but like the whispers of thousands of angry people. The streetlights above them flickered wildly, then shattered completely.

Pop! Pop!

Darkness enveloped them for a moment, illuminated only by the headlights of Julian's car.

"What are you doing, idiot? Hit him!" shouted Julian impatiently.

"I... I can't move my hands, Boss!" Boris shouted in panic. His face went pale. His eyes bulged, staring at the empty space in front of Caleb. "There is something... there is something holding me!"