The Return of the Almighty Dragon Jackal

Chapter Seven: The Impossible Mission

The next day, Edward summoned Andrew to his private wing.

“You’re becoming quite the legend,” Edward said, sipping dark wine. “The men fear you. They admire you. Even Victor—though he’d die before saying it.”

Andrew didn’t respond. He just stood still, eyes cold and unreadable.

“I like you,” Edward continued. “But loyalty is a fragile thing. I hope you remember who you owe.”

Andrew’s jaw tightened. “You own the contract. Not my soul.”

Edward grinned. “We’ll see.”

Edward smirked, then slid a thick envelope across the glass desk.

Andrew stepped forward slowly. His fingers curled around the wax seal and cracked it open. Inside, a single sheet of cream-colored paper, crisp and clean, marked only with a name... and a face.

The moment he read it, the breath caught in his throat.

Target: Yuan Shen.

Location: Shanghai.

The room seemed to tilt. His grip on the paper tightened.

Edward leaned back, eyes glinting like a predator enjoying the moment his prey realizes the trap. “Surprised?”

Andrew’s voice was a rasp. “You want me to kill Yuan?”

“Your mentor,” Edward said casually, swirling his wine. “Your so-called master. The man who trained you, who gave you shelter when the world tossed you aside.”

Andrew’s heart thundered in his chest. Images of Yuan flooded his mind—of warm tea in the snow, the soft but firm voice guiding his hands in the ancient martial forms, the cane that snapped against his back when his strikes faltered.

“I owe him everything,” Andrew whispered.

“Exactly,” Edward replied, standing now, circling him like a vulture. “Which is why it has to be you. Anyone else would fail. You know his defenses. His habits. His weaknesses. He trusts you.”

Andrew’s jaw clenched. “Then find someone else. I’m not doing it.”

But Edward’s smile didn’t falter. He picked up a remote from the desk, clicked it, and a monitor lit up behind him—revealing a live video feed. Richard.

In a hospital bed. Pale. Tubes snaking from his arms.

Andrew’s fists shook.

Edward’s voice turned ice-cold. “You think you have a choice? One call from me, and the machines keeping your little brother alive go silent. Or maybe Cynthia disappears again… only this time, no one finds her.”

Andrew’s vision blurred with rage.

Edward leaned in, his voice a whisper of venom. “Kill Yuan. Or bury everyone you love.”

The room was silent for a long moment, except for the hum of electricity and the sharp hammering of Andrew’s heartbeat.

Finally, Andrew spoke—his voice hollow and bitter.

“…When do I leave?”

Edward smiled like the devil. “Tonight.”

—

The announcement came like a thunderclap across the dimly lit hall of Thorne Industries' underground command chamber. The usual murmur of voices silenced the moment Edward stood, his presence like a blade cutting through fog.

"Jackal. Victor. Jax," he said coolly, his voice echoing off the cold concrete walls, "You're heading to Shenghai tonight. Your target is Yuan… Jackal's former master. The man who trained him. He's a man who knows our operations inside and out."

Gasps rippled through the ranks. No one dared to speak.

Edward’s eyes fell on Andrew—Jackal now, to everyone who feared and respected him. “This mission requires someone surgical. Someone I can trust to bring Yuan down quietly and completely. That’s you, Jackal. You lead.”

Victor’s jaw clenched.

Andrew gave a subtle nod, calm and collected, though the air turned sharp with the cut of unspoken tensions.

Later that night, in the weapons vault, Victor cornered Jax.

"You listen to me," Victor growled, voice low and venomous. "We’re not bringing him back."

Jax blinked. “What?”

“We’re leaving for Shenghai. But Jackal isn’t coming back alive.”

“Victor—”

“Shut it!” Victor’s eyes were bloodshot, furious. “How dare Edward trust him more than me? I was the head-captain before that street rat crawled in. Now he walks around like he owns the place, and even Cynthia—” he spat her name like poison, “—is trailing him like a lost pup. I’ll end him. And you’ll say nothing. You’ll back me up.”

Jax’s throat tightened. “You want me to lie?”

“No.” Victor smirked. “You’ll survive. He won’t. You’ll say Yuan’s blade wounded him fatally. I tried to help. He died. Simple.”

But Jax wasn’t a fool. As soon as Victor stormed out, he opened his phone and hit record. He replayed the conversation, heart pounding, before slipping into the shadows.

He found Andrew on the upper balcony overlooking the courtyard, hands folded behind his back like a soldier awaiting orders.

“Boss,” Jax murmured.

Andrew turned, eyes sharp.

Jax didn’t waste a second. He played the recording. As Victor’s voice echoed through the speaker—his threats, his plan, his jealousy—Andrew’s expression hardened. He said nothing at first.

Then: “Thanks for telling me.”

Jax looked at him nervously. “What do we do now?”

“We go,” Andrew said, voice a stone against the storm. “But I’m not killing Yuan either. He raised me. The man taught me everything I know. Why now? Something doesn’t add up. This isn’t just a mission—it’s bait.”

Jax’s brows furrowed. “Then why go?”

“To finish what’s already begun.”

---

The journey to Shenghai was grueling. They crossed provinces by truck, switching vehicles in abandoned checkpoints. When they finally arrived, they ventured into the border jungle that marked the last stretch to Yuan’s old hideout. Trees loomed like sentinels. Rain misted the leaves.

Victor led, his steps fast and sharp.

Andrew walked silently, every sense alert.

Jax trailed, heart hammering like a drum.

Then it happened.

Victor spun around suddenly, gun drawn, and fired.

Andrew ducked, the bullet grazing his shoulder.

“You son of a bitch!” Victor bellowed. “You think you can take my place? Take everything? Cynthia?! You’re just a poor bastard Edward found on the streets!”

Andrew kicked the gun out of his hand, and they collided like titans beneath the thick canopy.

The jungle echoed with grunts, punches, and bone-breaking crashes. Victor swung with the fury of a betrayed king, but Andrew fought like a ghost sharpened by years of pain.

Victor tackled him into the mud, fists raining down. “I was supposed to be him! The leader! The favorite!”

Andrew growled, grabbed a branch, and slammed it across Victor’s face, blood splattering the leaves. They rolled again, Victor pulling a knife from his boot.

“You’ll die like your damn father—forgotten!”

But Andrew twisted, flipping him over and driving the blade into Victor’s side.

Victor gasped, mouth agape in shock. His eyes went wide. “You… were always… just a shadow…”

Andrew’s hands were trembling, heart hammering in his ears. “Then consider this your end… in the dark.”

He let Victor collapse, unmoving, into the mud.

Jax ran forward, panting. “You okay?”

Andrew nodded numbly. “We have to clean this up.”

They buried Victor beneath the thicket, camouflaging the area with broken branches and blood-soaked leaves.

Before sunrise, they found a quiet river and dropped a bag weighted with bricks.

Inside?

A staged set of clothes soaked in blood.

—

Back at headquarters, Edward waited in his shadowed office.

Andrew and Jax stood before him, silent.

“Report,” Edward demanded.

Andrew met his gaze. “Yuan’s dead. We left his body in the river. But Victor…” He paused, just enough. “Didn’t make it. He was wounded during the fight. I tried to help him. He bled out before we could do anything.”

Edward stared hard, searching.

Then slowly, he nodded.

“Pity. He was loyal... once.”

The moment they left the room, Andrew pulled Jax into the alleyway behind the garage.

“I need to talk to Cynthia,” he said. “Now.”

---

Cynthia’s room was dim, her face pale as moonlight when she opened the door and saw Andrew. Her eyes scanned him, tense.

“What happened?”

He stepped in, closing the door.

“I killed him,” he said flatly.

She didn’t flinch. “Victor?”

Andrew nodded.

“It’s not your fault. He got what he deserves, "she said calmly.

“Yes, I know.” He said, and then his gaze became more tense.

“But what worries me is Edward. We didn't enter Shenghai, we didn't do the operation. I lied that we've tucked Yuan's body in the rivers”

Cynthia became more serious.

“And Edward believed you?”

“For now.”

She stepped closer. “He’ll find out. You know he will. You’ve seen what he does when someone lies to him.”

Andrew nodded.

Cynthia reached for his hands. “Then we can’t wait anymore.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“We have to leave. Tonight.”

“Cynthia—”

“No.” Her voice trembled. “You’ve already buried one enemy. The next time, it could be you. I won’t wait around and watch them destroy you.”

Their eyes locked.

She stepped forward, pressing a trembling hand against his chest. “I don’t care where we go. I just want to be free—with you.”

Andrew closed his eyes. He could still feel the weight of Victor’s blood on his hands.

But when he opened them again, Cynthia’s eyes were the only anchor he needed.

He nodded once.

“Tonight,” he whispered. “We vanish.”