In his entire career, he had never once heard the name Blue Vipers whispered in the underworld, never seen their mark, never crossed their trail.
As the world's biggest and most feared assassin group, the Phantoms prided themselves on knowing every corner of the underworld.
Their reach spread farther than governments, their network wider than corporations.
No syndicate, no mercenary cell, no shadow organization slipped past their eyes.
Yet here was a gang—small on the surface, nothing but street rats in comparison—bearing a mark, moving in silence, and somehow Bishop had never heard of them.
Not a whisper. Not a trace.
The thought unsettled him, clawing at the back of his mind.
How could insects like these exist beneath his radar?
How could they move so quietly, with connections stretched across borders, without leaving even a ripple in the Phantoms' intelligence web?
