2026-03-01 04:05:11Caleb took one step forward. The snow beneath his boots made no sound.
"You know, Julian," Caleb said, his voice now sounding resonant, as if coming from all directions at once. "Where I have been for these past five years, we do not know forgiveness."
The second bodyguard, seeing his friend frozen in place, immediately drew his Glock 19. He aimed the muzzle of the weapon right at Caleb's head.
"Die, you bastard!" shouted the bodyguard as he pulled the trigger.
Click.
No explosion.
The bodyguard was confused. He pulled the trigger again.
Click. Click.
"Jammed? How?" He stared at his gun. The metal of the pistol suddenly turned a pale white, covered in a thick layer of ice in seconds. A burning cold spread from the grip to his hand, blistering the skin of his palm with frostbite.
"Arghh! My hand!" The bodyguard dropped the gun, which had now frozen into a block of ice.
Caleb tossed his cigarette butt into the snow. He looked at the bodyguard in pain.
"You are too noisy," Caleb whispered.
Suddenly, the bodyguard holding the gun was lifted into the air. His legs kicked at nothing, a meter above the ground. His hands clawed at his own neck, trying to pry away an invisible stranglehold. His face turned blue, his eyes bulged, and a cracking sound came from his throat.
Julian took a step back, his back hitting his luxury car. His legs trembled. His mouth gaped open, but no sound came out. He saw Caleb's shadow stretching over the snow, but the shadow was not the shape of a human. It was shaped like hundreds of writhing, sharp, and hungry hands.
Caleb walked past Boris, who was still frozen in fear, and stopped right in front of the bodyguard who was choking in mid-air.
Caleb leaned in, looked into the dying bodyguard's eyes, and gave a faint smile. It was not a human smile. It was the grin of a wolf finding a sheep.
"You woke them up," Caleb whispered softly, yet it was clearly audible to Julian standing five meters away.
Caleb tapped the floating bodyguard's cheek gently.
"They are hungry."
"Please... Sir... mercy..."
The floating bodyguard's voice sounded strangled, his legs kicking at empty space, his leather shoes scuffing against each other in futile panic.
Caleb did not answer. He just tilted his head slightly to the right, as if listening to a melodious tune.
"Put him down!" shouted Julian Sterling. "Who do you think you are, huh? A street magician? Let him go or I'll sue you until you rot in prison!"
Caleb let out a long sigh, white steam escaping his mouth. "You are so noisy, Julian. My army doesn't like noise."
CRACK!
The sound was crisp, like a dry tree branch stepped on by a heavy boot, but far more horrifying because it came from a human body. The floating bodyguard's body suddenly folded in an unnatural direction. His spine snapped backward until his head touched his own heels.
"ARGHHHH!" The bodyguard's scream was cut short instantly as his ribs crushed inward, destroying his lungs.
Fresh blood sprayed from his mouth, dripping onto the white snow below.
"What... what the..." Julian retreated, his heel catching on the tire of his luxury car. His arrogant face was now pale as a sheet, his eyes bulging as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. "What trick is this? Are you using wires? Where are you hiding the crane?!"
The bodyguard's body fell to the ground with a thud like a discarded rag doll. He moved no more. His eyes were open, staring blankly at the Zurich night sky.
Boris, the other bodyguard, dropped his iron baton. Boris's knees shook so violently that the sound of his chattering teeth could be heard.
"He... he is a monster..." Boris muttered, stepping back slowly. "Mr. Sterling, we have to go. This guy... he isn't human."
Caleb ignored them both. He turned around, his back to the corpse he had just created. He knelt before his sister.
"Lisa," Caleb called softly. His rough, calloused hand reached out but stopped in the air, hesitant to touch his sister's bruised face. "Are you okay?"
Lisa was still trembling on the snow. Her eyes looked at Caleb, then shifted to the corpse behind her brother, then back to Caleb. Tears flowed heavily down her dirty cheeks.
"Brother... you killed him," Lisa whispered, her voice choking. "You... you killed him with a look."
"He intended to break your leg," Caleb replied flatly, as if it were the most logical reason in the world. He unbuttoned his worn-out jacket, took it off, and draped it over Lisa's shivering shoulders. "In the world I came from, malicious intent is paid with life. That is a fair currency."
"But this is Zurich, Caleb! This isn't a battlefield!" Lisa gripped the sleeve of Caleb's shirt. "The police will come. They will arrest you. We have to run."
Caleb smiled faintly, his thumb wiping the blood from the corner of Lisa's lip. His touch was incredibly careful, a stark contrast to the cruelty he had just displayed. "Let them come. No prison can hold me anymore, Lisa. And no one is allowed to touch you ever again. I swear."
"Enough of this charade!" Julian Sterling suddenly shouted again. His fear was slowly turning into anger. He reached into the pocket of his expensive suit, pulling out a small gold-plated pistol.
"You think you're great because you can kill one idiot?" Julian aimed the gun at Caleb's back, his hand shaking violently. "Turn around! Hands up! Who are you really?! Answer me, you poor bastard!"
Lisa's eyes widened. "Watch out, Brother!"
Caleb didn't turn around immediately. He adjusted the collar of the jacket on Lisa's neck, making sure his sister was warm.
"Close your eyes, Lisa," Caleb whispered.
"What?"
"Close your eyes. Count to ten. Just like when we played hide and seek."
Lisa looked into her brother's eyes. She instinctively obeyed. She closed her eyes, hiding her face in Caleb's broad chest.
Slowly, Caleb stood up. He turned his body to face Julian.
"You asked who I am?" Caleb asked quietly.
Julian swallowed hard, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Yes! Who are you? You should have died at the border! You're just trash from the Thorne family!"
Caleb stared straight into Julian's eyes. And when their gazes met, Julian's world collapsed.
The air around them turned a deep red. The sound of the winter wind vanished, replaced by the screams of thousands of tortured souls.
"W-what... what is this?" Julian gasped.
Behind Caleb, Julian no longer saw the slum apartment or the snowy streets. He saw a sea of corpses. Corpses of soldiers in shattered armor, corpses of modern soldiers with torn bodies, corpses of strange creatures he had never seen in books.
They were piled as high as a mountain. And at the peak of that mountain of corpses, Caleb stood on a throne made of human bones.
Thousands of pairs of eyes from those corpses suddenly snapped open simultaneously. All of them stared at Julian.
"Kneel..."
The voice didn't come from Caleb's mouth. It came from inside Julian's own head. The voice of millions of spirits whispering in unison.
"Kneel before your King..."
"NO! NO! GET AWAY!" Julian screamed hysterically. He fired his pistol blindly at Caleb.
BANG! BANG!
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A Deal in the Basement
Isabella's grip on Caleb's neck tightened fiercely. Her body, trembling from blood loss, pressed flush against his broad chest. Her rapid breaths fanned warmly against his sharp jawline. In the middle of the freezing Black Castle lobby, surrounded by three elite hitmen who had been reduced to mindless slabs of meat, the woman had instead found a blazing, intoxicating lust."I need a man like you, Caleb Thorne," Isabella repeated, her voice huskier and more urgent. Her torn silk gown exposed her long thighs, intentionally rubbing against Caleb's dress pants. "My own family is hunting me. They threw me away like trash. But with a monster like you by my side, I can destroy them all."Caleb stared into Isabella's wild eyes. He didn't back down an inch. Instead, he snaked one arm around her slender waist, pulling her even closer until there was absolutely zero space left between them. Blood from Isabella's shoulder stained Caleb's shirt, but neither of them gave a damn.
The Black Castle and the Exiled Queen
"Keep your wine, Doctor. We have bigger business tomorrow morning," Caleb said flatly, his eyes glaring sharply at Dr. Hans Gruber, who was still offering the bottle of Pinot Noir left by Isabella."What could possibly be more important than celebrating our beautiful alliance, Mr. Thorne?" Hans placed the bottle on the table, his signature crazed smile plastered on his face. "Killing some big shot for a warm-up?""No." Caleb grabbed his new coat draped over a chair. "We're moving. I need to buy a throne fitting for my army."***The following afternoon, the Geneva air was bone-chilling. "Mr. Thorne, I must warn you one last time. The bank didn't confiscate this Black Castle just because of defaulted loans!" The real estate agent broke into a cold sweat, trembling outside the massive, rusted iron gates. "The last three owners hung themselves in the exact same basement, one after another. The locals refuse to even come near. This place is... absolutely cursed.""How much is it?" Caleb
The Collapse of a Dynasty
Meanwhile, in Lisa Thorne's shabby apartment.Lisa was sitting on the floor, surrounded by old suitcases filled with clothes. She was crying while folding her mother's sweater. She was ready to run. She was sure her brother would fail or even be arrested by the police."We have to go to the train station, Mom," Lisa sobbed. "We'll go to Auntie's village in the South of France. It's safe there.""But Caleb hasn't come home," Martha groped the air anxiously. "We can't leave Caleb.""Brother has gone crazy, Mom! He went to the mafia headquarters! He won't come b—"TING!A loud SMS notification sound from Lisa's phone cut her off. The cracked-screen phone vibrated on the wooden table.Lisa wiped her tears roughly. Maybe it was a threat from Julian? or a warning from the police?With trembling hands, Lisa picked up the phone. The screen lit up brightly in the dim room.SMS FROM: BANK OF ZURICHMESSAGE: Transfer received from Account XXX-STERLING.AMOUNT: CHF 500,000,000.00ENDING BALANCE:
Even God Cannot Help You
"Superior?!" Marcus wept, tears and mucus mixing on his expensive face. "Let go! Please let go!"The ghost general did not let go. Instead, he crushed Marcus's wrist.CRACK.The sound of Marcus's breaking bone echoed in the silent room.Caleb still stared at Marcus with a cold gaze, as if enjoying the sound of the snapping bone."ARGHHHH!" Marcus dropped his pistol. His hand was now bent at a gruesome angle. The ghost retreated into the shadows, but its cold aura still choked Marcus's neck.Caleb leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers."Your laptop is in front of you, Marcus," Caleb said softly. "The biometric system is active. You have one left hand that still works. Start typing or your other hand will be crushed too.""I... I can't..." sobbed Marcus, clutching his broken hand. The pain was excruciating, but the fear was far greater."Human resilience is funny," Caleb stood up slowly.He walked around the desk, approaching Marcus who was now cornered between the
That Weapon Isn't A Toy
Floor 30. CEO's Office.Marcus Sterling was pouring a drink into a glass. He heard the alarms below, but he was confident his forces had already taken care of the intruder."Probably just a madman with a toy bomb," Marcus muttered, trying to calm himself.Ding.The sound of the elevator was heard from the end of the hallway outside his office door.Marcus put down his glass. He opened his desk drawer, taking out a pistol. He aimed the gun at his office door.Footsteps.One. Two. Three.The footsteps echoed.Then stopped right in front of the door."Who's there?!" shouted Marcus, trying to sound brave. "I'm armed! Come in and I'll fill you with holes!"No answer. No words.BAM!The five-inch thick door wasn't opened. It was kicked.The hinges holding it were torn from the concrete wall. The heavy door flew across the room like a sheet of cardboard, smashing into a display cabinet and shattering it to pieces.In the now gaping doorway, Caleb Thorne stood. Thin smoke rose from the tips o
Visiting Marcus Sterling
"We have taken care of everything, Mr. Sterling. No media will report on it. The official report is a gas explosion caused by an old pipe leak."The voice on the phone line sounded nervous, breathing heavily as if speaking to an angry God. It was the voice of the Zurich Chief of Police.On the top floor of a black glass skyscraper in the heart of the Bahnhofstrasse financial district, Marcus Sterling listened to the report while swiveling his chair to face the window. Down below, the city of Zurich looked like Lego toys he owned."Good," Marcus replied flatly. He puffed on a Cuban cigar that cost more than a semester's college tuition. "And what about my son? Is Julian still raving about ghosts?""Young Master Julian... is being sedated by a private doctor. He... he is still hysterical, Sir. He keeps screaming about black eyes and shadows eating people."Marcus shook his head, refusing to believe what Julian had said about ghosts attacking him and his men.Marcus snorted softly, extin
