I watched the group of businessn huddled around Franklin Duval, their nervous expressions betraying their unease despite his confident reassurances.
"Gentlen, relax," Franklin said, casually adjusting his expensive cufflinks. "These rumors about Liam Knight are nothing more than ghost stories. The dead don't return."
Caldwell, standing slightly apart from the others, nodded eagerly. "Franklin's right. Knight is finished. We have nothing to worry about."
The businessn exchanged doubtful glances. I could practically sll their fear from where I stood outside the doorway.
"But what if—" one of them began.
The massive double doors suddenly burst open.
I strode in with Roman Volkov and Eamon Greene flanking . The room fell into stunned silence.
"Impossible," soone whispered.
Caldwell's face drained of all color. His champagne glass slipped from his fingers, shattering on the marble floor. The sound echoed through the silent room like a gunshot.
"Knight," he choked out. "You're... you're supposed to be dead."
I fixed him with a cold stare. "Disappointed?"
Franklin Duval stepped forward, positioning himself between and Caldwell. His massive fra blocked my path, but I wasn't intimidated.
"Well, well," Franklin sneered. "The legendary Liam Knight. Not looking so legendary now, are you?"
Behind him, Caldwell found his voice. "Franklin will handle this. He's taken down n twice your size."
Caldwell's pathetic attempt to appear in control almost made laugh. Almost.
"Liam, please," Caldwell suddenly switched tactics, stepping around Franklin with his hands raised in a placating gesture. "We've known each other for years. There's clearly been a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding?" The temperature in my voice dropped several degrees. "You tried to kill . You tortured my friend. You stole what was mine."
Caldwell's fake smile wavered. "Business is business. Nothing personal."
"Is that what you told Roman while you had him beaten?"
Caldwell's eyes darted nervously to Roman, whose face still bore the marks of his ordeal. "He's exaggerating. We were just having a conversation that got a little heated."
Roman stepped forward, his expression murderous. "A conversation? You had your n break three of my ribs."
Caldwell's facade crumbled. "You don't understand my position! I had no choice—"
"There's always a choice," I cut him off. "You made yours."
Caldwell's deanor suddenly shifted. Fear gave way to desperate aggression.
"You think you can just walk in here and threaten ?" he snarled. "I own this town now! Everyone works for !"
Franklin pounded his fist into his palm. "Enough talk. Ti to finish what should have been done days ago."
With surprising speed for such a large man, Franklin lunged at . His fist ca straight for my face.
I didn't even bother to dodge.
My palm shot out, connecting with his chest in a simple, almost casual slap.
Franklin's body flew backward, crashing into the wall with bone-crushing force. A sickening crack echoed through the room as his spine shattered. He slid to the floor, eyes wide with shock, then emptiness.
Dead with a single slap.
The businessn gasped collectively, backing away from as if I were a demon materialized in their midst.
Caldwell stared at Franklin's lifeless body, his face contorting with terror. With shaking hands, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a pistol.
"Stay back!" he scread, pointing the weapon at my chest. "I'll shoot! I swear to God, I'll shoot!"
I took a step toward him.
The gun fired with a deafening bang.
The bullet struck squarely in the chest—and bounced off harmlessly. A golden light briefly flashed where it hit, dissipating the impact. For character sheets and glossaries, visit *.
Caldwell fired again. And again. Each bullet t the sa fate.
When the gun clicked empty, Caldwell sank to his knees.
"Please," he whimpered. "I'll give you anything. Money. Properties. Won. Whatever you want."
I looked down at him, feeling nothing but contempt.
"Where are the herbs from the west suburb warehouse?"
His eyes widened in surprise at the specific question. "The herbs? That's what this is about?"
"Answer the question."
Caldwell licked his dry lips. "I'll tell you everything, but first promise you'll let live."
"No promises. Talk."
He hesitated, glancing around desperately for help that wouldn't co.
"I need a guarantee," he insisted. "Otherwise, what's stopping you from killing afterward?"
I nodded to Roman, who stepped forward with a grim smile.
"Take him," I said. "Make him talk."
Roman grabbed Caldwell by the collar, hauling him to his feet. "With pleasure. I owe him for my hospitality."
"No! Wait!" Caldwell thrashed in Roman's grip. "I'll talk! I'll talk!"
But Roman was already dragging him toward the door.
"Please!" Caldwell scread. "Knight! Don't let him take !"
I turned away from his desperate pleas, focusing now on the remaining businessn. They huddled together like frightened sheep, watching with terrified eyes.
"Mr. Knight," one man stepped forward, his voice quavering. "We were forced into this alliance. Caldwell threatened our families."
Another nodded quickly. "We had no choice! We're innocent in this!"
"Besides," a third added with ill-concealed desperation, "you need us. We control the supply chains in Riverbend Town. Without us, the economy collapses."
That last comnt ignited sothing cold and dark within .
"Need you?" I repeated softly.
The businessman nodded eagerly, misreading my tone. "Exactly! We're indispensable!"
I raised my hand, summoning a brilliant blue fla that danced across my fingers. The temperature in the room plumted.
"No one is indispensable."
The Blue Spirit Fire leaped from my hand, engulfing them all in its rciless embrace. Their screams lasted only seconds before silence fell.
Where the businessn had stood, nothing remained but ash.
Eamon Greene, who had remained silent throughout, finally spoke. "Was that necessary, sir?"
I extinguished the flas with a thought. "They betrayed at the first opportunity. Loyalty has a price. So does treachery."
As we left the villa, I couldn't help but reflect on how easily I'd taken those lives. Once, such an act would have troubled my conscience for days. Now, I felt nothing.
Was it the power changing ? Or perhaps the dark energy I'd absorbed during my captivity?
Whatever the cause, I couldn't deny the truth: my heart was growing colder by the day. And so distant part of wondered if that should worry more than it did.
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