2025-04-30 19:50:20
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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
Chapter 144
It was no surprise that by the following day, photos of Rex were everywhere. He had become the newest most-wanted killer. Though in that city, it wasn’t unusual to appear in such publications. Every day brought a new "most wanted."All it took was a glance at the endless list of people who had passed through that category in a single year.The police were just trying to do their job. However, the matter of the Euphoria app tournament was increasingly slipping from their control.The very fact that Ember had been murdered and Rex had been freed inside the same police station was the final straw. The governor demanded the mayor’s head on a silver platter and ordered his immediate removal.The whole world was talking about and criticizing that city in particular for its inability to stop the killings between civilians. Yet no one was prepared for the next battle. The tournament had just begun, and things were about to get worse.That morning, the world woke up to the faint glow of screen
Chapter 143
The last officer guarding Rex's cell was a shadowy, disoriented figure in the dense fog. His breathing—an audible gasp—gave away his position more than any image could.Jack moved with the deadly precision granted by his million-dollar system, a burst of motion barely perceptible to the human eye, even without the smoke. One final blow with the butt of his air-compressed pistol—a dull thud lost in the haze—and the officer collapsed without a sound, joining the silent pile of unconscious guards.The hallway fell into complete silence, broken only by the desperate hum of drones. Above, in the smoke-thick wall that made recording impossible, the tiny flying devices tried to adjust. Their infrared lenses activated, emitting a faint red glow that struggled to pierce the curtain.The broadcast for users following the tournament on the Euphoria app flickered, showing distorted images, blurred silhouettes, a vague promise of action that barely satisfied the viewers' thirst. But something was
Chapter 142
The air in the cell corridor was rent with a deafening chorus of gunfire. Jack, who had just turned the corner, was greeted by a relentless volley of lead. Rex's cell was in sight, and so were the officers guarding it, their guns spitting fire. There was no time to think, only to react.The million-dollar system in Jack's head activated, flooding his senses with an avalanche of data: bullet trajectories, ricochet angles, officers' movement patterns. His agility, amplified by the neural implant, was supernatural. He hit the ground, rolling with the grace of a feline, bullets whizzing inches above his head. The cold linoleum felt strange against his skin.Rex, inside his cell, screamed as he heard the shooting. He cowered under the grimy metal bed, seeking shelter from the hell that was breaking loose a few feet away. Gunshots echoed off the concrete, ricocheting, creating a sonic chaos that vibrated the air.Jack fired his air pistol. Cork bullets, propelled by the force of the air, st
Chapter 141
The stale air of the ventilation shaft scraped Jack’s throat.Every inch he advanced through the metallic darkness echoed with the sound of his own movements, the brush of his clothes against the rust.Inside the police station, Jack was a silent, efficient shadow. The plan relied on timing. And now, a small blinking light on Jack’s watch signaled that the moment had come.He pulled out his phone to send a message. He was already at the exact point, but he needed Kloe and Lix to play their part for the plan to succeed.Outside, on the main street, the stillness of the early morning was suddenly broken. Kloe and Lix emerged from the alley, not stealthily, but with calculated purpose. Kloe unrolled a banner with surprising speed, revealing hastily scrawled letters:"JUSTICE FOR THE INNOCENT. NO MORE UNJUST IMPRISONMENT."Lix, beside her, held another one: "OPEN THE CELLS. THE TRUTH WILL COME TO LIGHT."These weren’t cries of rage, but controlled, rehearsed chants.“Freedom! Freedom!” Kl
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