2025-05-18 23:52:02
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Chapter 150
The stench of rain and wet earth was as thick as the mourning in the air. Kloe lay on the floor of an old abandoned warehouse, curled up, her arms wrapped around her knees. Rain hammered the metal roof like a drum, each drop a sharp beat that only amplified the despair of the moment. The screen of her phone, shattered from the fall when she heard the news of her best friend’s death, lay beside her. Its last image was the announcement of Lix’s match. She didn’t need to see it. She felt her best friend’s absence like an open wound in her soul. Lix was gone. She had blown her brains out to avoid getting her hands dirty.“It’s pointless,” Kloe murmured, her voice barely a broken whisper. “It’s all a joke. A fucking joke. We’re going to die. All of us. No matter what we do.”A shadow loomed over her. The smell of cheap perfume and hot metal, the same scent Jack carried, wrapped around her. She looked up. There he was—her last friend in this hell. His eyes, deep and filled with cold determi
Chapter 149
That same afternoon, just minutes after the news broke that Lix would participate in the next fight, the doors of her house were completely shut. Her parents had been investing in reinforced doors for when the moment finally arrived. The problem was, the moment had come—and that’s when they realized they weren’t as prepared as they had thought. The truth is, there’s simply no way to be ready for one of your children to face death head-on.Lix’s parents ran back and forth inside the house. They had a closed-circuit surveillance system set up all over. Anyone trying to enter the house would be seen immediately. However, the first things they noticed approaching were those annoying drones, always looking for the best footage to stream directly to the app’s broadcast. Viewers saw the empty doors and instantly assumed it would be another boring fight like the last one.“We have to call the police,” Lix’s father suggested, quickly falling into despair.“Are you completely insane?” Lix’s mot
Chapter 148
The following day arrived quickly over the city, where deceptively innocent people roamed the still-smoldering streets after the carnage unleashed between the men of Theo Walton and Jean Graham. Anyone who didn’t live there might have sworn it was a peaceful city. Yet the massacre had been total—a holocaust that left the area around Graham’s house like a twisted cemetery, with mutilated bodies that the police had only just begun to collect. In some cases, it was simply impossible to identify the dead due to their destroyed faces.However, in this city accustomed to horror, normalcy reestablished itself with surprising speed. No one dared to question. No one dared to point fingers.The Walton Mansion remained untouched. The police looked the other way. There were no investigations, no arrests, not even an official mention of the dozen burned armored vehicles or the bodies of elite bodyguards scattered across the asphalt. Theo Walton’s crime went unpunished—just another anecdote to whis
Chapter 147
The city still bore the scars of the savage war that had been waged the night before. Everyone powered down their devices when the buzz of drones in the sky faded into the fog. The prize from the Euphoria app’s tournament was not just a promise—it was a door. A door to an existential plane where the elite millionaires resided. Those who bent the system to their will: the Spiritual World. It was a ruthless realm, a slaughterhouse where only the most lethal could succeed and move forward—where the elite who controlled the Absolute Millionaire System lived. They were the rule-makers, the whisperers behind the curtain, those who wove euphoria into the reality of the city below.At the heart of this Spiritual World stood the Citadel, an elegant place built of gold and gleaming crystal, adorned with the most expensive diamonds on the planet. Within its walls, the elite millionaires—the masterminds who had reached the highest ranks of the system—lived in unimaginable luxury, their every whim
Chapter 146
The interior of Jean Graham's shattered bunker reeked of burnt gunpowder and molten metal. Morning light filtered through the cracks in the ceiling, revealing the chaos left by the battle. Graham, his clothes soaked in blood and his body lacerated, dragged himself back to his operations room. Every movement was agony—a price he was forced to pay in order to win a battle in the brutal war he had been thrown into. But a powerful survival instinct kept him going.Without hesitation, Graham threw himself onto a metal table, his eyes locked on the first aid kit. His bloodied hands, hardened by years of combat, pulled out a curved needle and thick thread. He stabbed the needle into his own flesh, beginning to stitch himself up, tugging at the torn skin. There were no groans, only a snort. Graham’s face was drenched in sweat and blood. Then he grabbed a syringe he had filled with a potent painkiller and injected it directly into his uninjured thigh, the cold liquid burning through his veins.
Chapter 145
The roar of armored engines tore through the stillness of the city night. It wasn’t the usual sounds of a city in celebration, but a heavy, blood-chilling noise. From the highest windows, one could see the column of black vehicles emerging from the Walton Mansion—a caravan of armored trucks advancing down the avenues.Dozens of armored SUVs, each packed with heavily armed men, were an unmistakable sign. Theo Walton’s men were on the move.A chill swept through the streets. People who had just begun opening their night businesses or heading out to dance stopped cold. There was no need for screams or alarms. The entire city knew what this display meant. It was the march of death. Doors slammed shut, blinds dropped, and storefronts pulled down their heavy metal shutters with a crash. The few pedestrians scattered like ants, seeking refuge in alleyways, behind dumpsters, or simply flattening themselves against the walls, wishing to become invisible. They knew that when Walton’s private ar
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