2025-04-28 23:32:52The Wilson Group headquarters transformed into a glittering palace of New Year's celebration. Crystal chandeliers cascaded from impossibly high ceilings, reflecting off marble floors like a thousand tiny stars. Wealthy guests in designer suits and sparkling gowns mingled, their conversations a soft murmur of success and privilege.
Jack Parker stood out immediately. His attire was simple—dark jeans, a well-worn leather jacket, and boots that had clearly traveled far. While others wore thousand-dollar outfits, Jack looked like he'd just stepped off a long journey. Yet there was something about him that made the doorman hesitate before stepping aside. Wealth isn't always about clothes, Jack thought, sometimes it's in how you carry yourself. The buffet stretched like a culinary landscape. Silver trays laden with exotic delicacies beckoned. Jack approached with the hunger of someone who'd spent hours on a plane. He filled a plate with precision—smoked salmon, caviar, miniature quiches, and what looked like some kind of truffle-infused something. Two glasses of champagne completed his selection. Old Joe always said to eat well when opportunity presents itself, he mused, taking a generous bite. Around him, whispers began to rise like a gathering storm. "Who is that?" a woman in a red dress muttered to her companion. "Look at him. Dressed like that. At our party." "Freeloader," another voice said loud enough to be heard. Jack continued eating, seemingly oblivious. His casual demeanor only fueled their mockery. Robert Wilson, the head butler, approached with a look of pure disdain. "Excuse me," he said, his voice dripping with condescension, "may I see your invitation?" Jack looked up, champagne glass in hand. "I'm not here on an invitation," he replied calmly. "I'm here for Emily. I'm her fiancé." A moment of silence. Then laughter. Not just a chuckle, but a full-bodied roar of derision that echoed through the grand hall. "Her fiancé?" Robert sneered. "Emily Wilson is the CEO of the most powerful corporation in Draconia. Do you really expect anyone to believe she'd be engaged to... someone like you?" Jack's eyes, previously warm and casual, suddenly turned cold. "Take me to Emily," he said simply. More laughter. Robert's face reddened with anger. "Security!" he shouted, "Remove this man!" When Robert lunged forward, his fist aimed at Jack's face, something extraordinary happened. Jack didn't move. Didn't dodge. Simply... blocked. His hand intercepted Robert's punch with such casual efficiency that the butler stumbled backward, shock replacing his anger. "You're weak," Jack observed, not even slightly out of breath. Security guards converged, electronic stun sticks humming with potential violence. But before they could strike, a blur of motion swept through them. In less than three seconds, all six guards lay unconscious on the marble floor. No one saw how it happened. Jack looked amused. "Is that the best protection money can buy?" he asked the stunned crowd. Gasps and whispers multiplied. Who was this man? How had he neutralized trained security so effortlessly? More guards rushed in, filling the doorways. The tension became electric, ready to spark into violence. Then a voice cut through the chaos. Calm. Powerful. Commanding. "Enough." The crowd parted like water. Heads turned. And there, descending the grand staircase with the grace of a queen, stood Emily Wilson. CEO. Heiress. The most powerful woman in Draconia. Her emerald green dress seemed to shimmer with each step. Dark hair pulled back in a perfect twist. Eyes that could—and had—made powerful men tremble. She stopped three steps from the bottom, surveying the scene. Her gaze locked onto Jack. "Well," Emily said, "it seems we have quite the welcome party." Jack met her eyes. No fear. No apology. Just a calm, direct gaze that seemed to challenge everything and everyone in the room. So this is my fiancée, he thought. The New Year's party had just become something far more interesting than anyone could have anticipated.
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Chapter 290
The cavern quaked beneath their charge. Emerald and crimson streaks collided mid-air, a shockwave cracking a fresh fissure through the crystal floor. Dust geysered upward, momentarily swallowing them in a sandstorm of red grit and shards.Out of the haze, Khar’zek’s Bloodfang Saber slashed downward, a blazing comet-stroke. Jack pivoted, the tip grazing his helmet and carving a molten groove across his visor. Alarm lights danced across his HUD: VISOR DAMAGE – VISIBILITY COMPROMISED. His next breath tasted of metal and frost.“Close your eyes,” Old Joe’s voice urged inside his skull. “Feel the rhythm, not the light.”Jack obeyed—sliding sideways blind, dagger sweeping in a green crescent that carved a shallow line across Khar’zek’s chest. Blue acid spattered, hissing where it hit stone. The warlord snarled, twisting his saber in a reverse grip and driving forward with bone-crushing speed. Jack dropped to one knee, let the blade scream past his ear, and sprang upward with an elbow that c
Chapter 289
Jack’s HUD pulsed a frantic crimson: O₂ 1.8 %… 1.7 %… Every breath rasped like sandpaper over raw lungs. Frost hissed on his cracked visor with each exhale. By all rights, his body should have been shutting down. But Old Joe’s voice thrummed inside him—steady, commanding, alive. Ignore the numbers. You’re more than bone and breath now. You are the storm. Emerald light flared from Jack’s eyes, bright enough to stain the fractured crystal floor green. The Dragon Dagger vibrated in his palm, a living thing hungry for the fight. Across the collapsing cavern, Khar’zek—the Smilodon warlord—hauled his massive frame upright, blue acid still hissing from half a dozen wounds Jack had carved. Yet the alien’s golden gaze burned hotter, undimmed. The surrounding Smilodons ringed the battlefield in silence, their guttural growls suppressed by awe. Even wounded, their warlord inspired reverence. Even bleeding, he looked immortal. Khar’zek’s translator rasped, static-laced: “Your defiance shame
Chapter 288
The cavern shuddered like a living thing. Red dust sifted down in lazy spirals, catching the glare of emerald lightning and flickering plasma. The Smilodon leader’s claws glowed brighter—sparks dancing across its massive forearms as energy coiled inside it like a storm. The other aliens froze in a wide circle, their snarls hushed to low, guttural rumbles. Even wounded, their warlord commanded their respect.Ryan, breathing hard and clutching his plasma spear like a crutch, staggered two steps back. “It’s… drawing power from the cavern… Jack, it’s about to—”Jack cut him off with a raised hand, never taking his eyes off the beast. “Stay back, Ryan. This one’s between me and him.”The alien’s translator hissed, carrying its venomous words through the static: “You desecrate sacred ground. Mars belongs to my bloodline. I am Khar’zek, Warlord of the Crimson Sands. You will die before you steal our sky.”Jack’s lips curved into a grim smirk. The Dragon Dagger pulsed in his grip, its emerald
Chapter 287
Emerald light and alien roars filled the collapsing cavern—and Jack kept fighting.A blur of movement darted through the dust. Before Jack could pivot, one of the smaller Smilodon-like aliens vaulted over a fallen pillar and locked its sinewy arms around his throat from behind. Its claws dug into the seams of his chest plate, crushing his windpipe. The sudden pressure made spots dance at the edges of his vision.It yanked him backward, snarling in a deep, guttural voice that somehow carried a sharp, venomous clarity through his comms translator: “You will not claim Mars… It is ours… generations of dominion… You will die here, Earthborn thief!”Jack gagged, his boots scraping across the fractured crystal floor. The alien’s acidic breath steamed against his bare cheek where the visor had shattered. For a fleeting heartbeat, panic threatened to swamp him.But Old Joe’s echo cut through the haze: Stay present. Stay moving. You’re not prey.Jack snarled, twisting violently. With his free a
Chapter 286
Jack met the charging giant head-on, emerald light spilling across the cavern like a second sunrise. Their collision sent a shockwave through the crystal floor, shattering smaller spires and spraying shards that hissed in the acidic air.The leader’s claws came down in a blur—one overhead, one sweeping low. Jack vaulted sideways, feeling the gust of displaced air as the claws smashed where he’d stood. He used the momentum to roll onto his feet and slash upward. The Dragon Dagger bit deep into the giant’s bicep. Acid blood splattered his chest plate, eating a sizzling groove through the armor.Old Joe’s voice boomed inside him, steadier than his own heartbeat: Don’t give ground. Not to them. Not to fear.“Not planning on it,” Jack hissed, twisting away as another swipe narrowly missed his helmet.Two of the smaller Smilodons flanked him, snarling. One lunged for his left leg while the other leapt for his throat. Jack dropped to a knee, ducking beneath the high attack and driving the da
Chapter 285
Jack’s lungs burned like twin furnaces, every breath a ragged scrape against his chest as the cracked visor whistled precious oxygen into the Martian void. The Dragon Dagger pulsed in his grip, emerald fire lacing his veins. The two surviving Smilodons circled, their claws dripping acid that hissed against the crystal floor. Four more stalked from the shadows, their alien eyes flaring like distant stars.A low growl rolled through the cavern, vibrating the shattered pillars. Jack’s vision wavered—green lightning streaking across his sight—then steadied. A warmth, old and familiar, flooded him.Old Joe’s voice echoed from somewhere beyond the physical world: “You’re not alone, boy. I told you, when the blade sings, I’ll be there.”Jack gritted his teeth. “Then sing louder, Old Man.”The Dragon Dagger’s fire blazed brighter, swallowing the dim cavern light. His pain dulled, replaced by a savage, otherworldly focus. His stance shifted—no longer just Jack Parker the soldier, but Jack poss
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