"So fast!"
Rhino only saw a flash before Javon was in front of him. His instincts screamed, his hand moving to grab the gun at his waist. However, it was the move of a street thug, not a true fighter.
Before his fingers could even touch the grip, his wrist was seized by an undeniable force. It wasn't a rough grab, but a precise touch on his joint.
With a fluid and efficient twist—a move from the Coral Flow Art he'd learned in prison—Javon rotated Rhino's arm.
KLAK!
The shoulder joint popped out of its socket. The gun, only halfway drawn, fell with a clatter onto the concrete floor.
Rhino didn't even have time to scream before Javon's palm struck a meridian point on his neck. His entire body convulsed for a moment, then was completely paralyzed. He collapsed to the floor, his eyes wide with horror, fully conscious but unable to move a single muscle.
"In my world," Javon said, looking down at the now-helpless giant, "Your strength is nothing but a joke."
He wasted no more time. The remaining thugs stared in horror as their mighty boss was defeated without even putting up a fight. They were sheep who had just watched a lion incapacitate their shepherd.
At that moment, new shadows moved at the factory entrance. Dozens of Nocturnal Hall members appeared silently, moving with deadly efficiency. They secured every corner, disarmed the remaining thugs, and took control of the entire area in less than a minute.
Megias strode forward, walking past the sea of groaning bodies, and bowed respectfully. "Master Zero, the place has been secured. Weapons, smuggled goods, and the women they were holding captive have all been detained. Awaiting your orders."
Rhino, lying paralyzed on the floor, heard the report. The terror in his eyes finally rolled back as he fainted from shock and despair.
"Good," Javon said, his eyes sweeping across the factory. "Take anything useful—money and information. Burn the rest to ashes. Spread a rumor that the Proteus Society clashed with their buyers in a deal gone wrong." He looked at Megias. "This territory now belongs to Nocturnal Hall."
"And Pablo Swenger?" Megias asked.
A cold smile played on Javon's lips. "I'm going to make him pay the ultimate price."
***
That night, a thick fog hung low over the Selvana Docks, muffling the sound of crashing waves and the creaking of old ships.
The smell of salt, diesel, and rotting fish stung the air. Amidst the towering stacks of cargo containers that rose like rusted buildings, the place felt like an endless labyrinth.
Pablo Swenger got out of his car, cursing. "Those crazy Proteus bastards! Choosing a place like this to meet?!" He pulled the collar of his coat tighter, feeling uneasy. "If they don't bring me Javon's head, they can forget about getting paid a single cent!"
At the end of a narrow alley between containers, a shadow appeared. Its face was hidden in darkness. It just stood there, holding a heavy-looking gym bag that was dripping something dark onto the ground.
"Hey! You from Proteus?" Pablo shouted, trying to sound braver than he felt. "Where's the proof? I want to see the goods!"
The figure didn't answer. It slowly placed the bag on the ground, then took a few steps back and vanished into the darkness.
An eerie silence enveloped the docks. Driven by curiosity and greed, Pablo cautiously approached the bag. He saw a phone lying on top of it. Suddenly, the phone's screen lit up, displaying an incoming call from an unknown number.
Without thinking, driven by a foolish instinct, Pablo reached for the phone. The moment his finger touched the screen to answer—
BOOM!
A massive explosion tore through the night's silence, turning the docks into an inferno of fire and shrapnel.
Far away, in the empty penthouse of the Forger Group headquarters, Javon stood alone on the balcony.
The night wind blew through his hair as he gazed toward the docks. A bright orange flash bloomed in the distance, followed by the faint sound of an explosion a few seconds later.
He wasn't toasting with wine. There was no beautiful waitress by his side. There was only him and the cityscape spread out below, a city that had now become his battlefield.
He had just crossed a line. From self-defense to becoming an executor.
This victory didn't taste sweet. It felt empty, cold, and... necessary. This was the price that had to be paid. With Pablo's ashes, one problem was solved, but a piece of his old self might have burned along with him.
He felt a vibration in his pocket. His phone. Not the new one given to him by Nocturnal Hall, but his old phone that he had recharged. A message from an unknown number. A number he didn't recognize, but for some reason, his heart hammered when he saw it.
He opened it. The message was short, riddled with typos from panic, but its meaning struck him straight in the heart.
[Mr Forger, help. Miss Sherly in danger.]