Avery, Axel, and Kade sat in the dimly lit strategy room.
A single board dominated the wall — a mosaic of faces connected by red strings.
Darius.
Andrey.
Ayla.
Clifford.
Kazuo Ryujin.
Red X's slashed across Ayla and Clifford's photos.
Axel leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, studying Avery with a mixture of awe and unease.
"You know," he said, "I didn't expect your way of justice to be this… intriguing. I thought you'd go for the usual. Shooting them. Cutting off their heads. Something loud."
Avery didn't smile.
Her expression stayed carved from stone.
"It's not my way of justice," she said quietly.
"I am justice."
She rose, walked to the board, and plucked a dart from the table.
With a flick of her wrist — sharp, effortless — it landed squarely on Andrey's face.
Axel raised a brow.
"And why not go for the big guns? Kazuo Ryujin is right there."
Avery smirked, the expression slow and dangerous.
"You start with the weak links to get to the mastermind. And I've already done that."
She tapped Darius's photo lightly.
"Originally, Darius and Andrey weren't supposed to be involved in any of this. But they involved themselves… with how they treated me."
She stepped back, letting her gaze sweep across the board.
"Some people see me as kind. Others say I'm rude. Some call me friendly. Others whisper that I'm a menace… or a sociopath."
She turned, her eyes cold and steady.
"But the truth is simple."
A beat.
A breath.
A line that landed like a blade.
"You are served according to what you bring to my table."
Axel stepped closer, his eyes fixed on me with a strange mix of challenge and curiosity.
"You know what?" he murmured. "The way you put it… come to think of it, I do qualify to be on that board."
He kept moving forward.
Instinctively, I stepped back until my spine met the cold wall behind me.
He didn't touch me — but he boxed me in with his presence, one hand braced beside my head, his body close enough to make my pulse jump.
"Why would you say that?" I asked, my voice steady even though my heartbeat wasn't.
He leaned in just enough for his breath to brush my cheek.
"Well," he said quietly, "I did forcibly abduct you… didn't I?"
Before the tension could snap, Axel suddenly turned away.
He picked up a dart, flicked his wrist, and sent it flying across the room.
It landed dead‑center on Andrey's picture.
He stepped back from me, giving me space again, his expression unreadable.
My heart was beating too fast — not from fear, but from the intensity of the moment, the way he could shift from dangerous to controlled in a single breath.
Kade's eyes dropped to the floor, his expression tightening.
Axel noticed immediately.
"Look up straight," Axel said, voice low but sharp. "You should know me by now."
Kade gulped, lifting his gaze.
"No, it's not that," he muttered. "I'm watching AFZ Global News."
Axel frowned. "What now?"
Kade turned the screen toward us.
On the broadcast, the studio anchor spoke with urgency.
AFZ GLOBAL NEWS — BREAKING STORY
HEADLINE: Mysterious Warehouse Inferno Leaves Authorities Baffled — Blood Traces Found Near Azure Serpent Sea
The anchor continued:
"Authorities are investigating a sudden and unexplained fire that consumed an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city late last night. Officials say the blaze was unusually intense, leaving almost nothing behind except twisted metal and charred concrete."
The screen cut to a field reporter standing near the coastline, wind whipping her hair.
"This is Mara Tembeko reporting live from the shores of the Azure Serpent Sea. Earlier this morning, investigators discovered blood traces along the rocks just below the tide line. Forensic teams are currently analyzing the samples, but sources say the amount found suggests a violent struggle may have occurred here."
Behind her, flashing lights from patrol boats cut across the water.
"Authorities have not yet confirmed whether the blood is connected to the warehouse fire, but the timing has raised serious questions."
Kade frowned at the broadcast.
"Is this a good sign or a bad sign?"
Avery leaned back, her eyes sharp.
"It's good. Since it's global news, I'm sure Kazuo Ryujin is aware of this… and so are Darius and Andrey. The thing is, they're all confused. No mafia dealings have ever been dragged into the light for a long time. This changes everything."
At Darius's Place
Andrey paced the room, agitation clear in his voice.
"Have you seen the news?"
Darius didn't look up from his glass.
"Of course I have. Who would have done this?"
Andrey shook his head slowly.
"Mmmh… I've no idea. Mafia dealings have always been kept in the shadows. No traces left. This feels different. Maybe someone new in town… sending out a warning."
In Japan
The chamber was dim, lit only by a single lantern that threw long shadows across the tatami floor.
Takahiro entered silently, masked, and bowed low until his forehead nearly touched the ground.
"Ryūjin‑sama, nyūsu o goran ni narimashita ka?"
(Master Ryūjin, have you seen the news?)
From the far end of the room, the chair creaked as it turned.
Kazuo Ryūjin sat shirtless, his chest marked by a sprawling dragon tattoo that seemed alive in the flickering light. He crossed his legs slowly, deliberately, every movement radiating control.
When he spoke, his voice was deep, domineering, and authoritative — the kind of voice that filled the room and left no space for doubt.
"Mochiron da, Takahiro."
(Of course I have, Takahiro.)
His eyes narrowed, his words pressing down like iron.
"Ano yō na kokuji o okonatta mono o sagashidase. Sono keikoku wa hijō ni kyōmi-bukai. Watashi no mae ni tsurete koi."
(Find the one who did this. The warning they sent is truly interesting. Bring them before me.)
Takahiro bowed again, his voice trembling with obedience.
"Hai, Ryūjin‑sama. Kanarazu mitsukemasu."
(Yes, Master Ryūjin. I will find them without fail.)
Without another word, he backed out of the chamber, leaving Ryūjin alone with the silence — and the dragon etched across his chest, a symbol of power that no one dared to defy.
---
This way, the Japanese is in words (romanized), easy to read, but still authentic and cinematic.
Do you want me to expand this scene further by showing Ryūjin's syndicate atmosphere — like guards, rituals, or the way his men react when he speaks — to give it even more weight?
Avery leaned back in her chair, eyes fixed on the board of faces.
"This way," she said, her voice smooth and unhurried, "everyone will be busy looking… scrambling… trying to figure out who did that."
She tapped her finger lightly against the table.
"But what they don't realize," she continued, her tone dropping into something colder, "is that while they're searching in the wrong direction… they're being eliminated from behind."
Axel and Kade exchanged a look — not of fear, but of awe.
Avery wasn't just playing the game.
She was rewriting the rules.
Kade leaned forward, brows raised.
"So… if I may ask, how exactly do you plan on eliminating Darius and Andrey?"
Avery didn't flinch.
Her voice stayed calm, almost bored.
"Well, you'd probably expect me to separate the brothers, make them turn on each other… something dramatic like that."
She shrugged lightly.
"But I want something fast. Unpredictable. And if I tell you what I'm going to do, it ruins the fun."
Axel coughed — then laughed under his breath.
"Since when did you become a sociopath? Weren't you the little timid girl I tamed? I guess I changed you."
Avery turned her head slowly, meeting his eyes with a look that wasn't angry… just honest.
"To be honest," she said, "I'm the one who chose to change. Life threw things at me, and I could've taken another path. A softer one. A safer one."
Her voice dropped, steady and unshaken.
"But I chose this one."
Axel's smile faded just a little — not out of fear, but out of recognition.
He was looking at someone he thought he understood… and realizing he didn't.
Later that day, a courier delivered two identical black envelopes to Darius and Andrey's residence.
No return address.
No seal.
Just a single silver letter on the front:
X
Inside was a card — thick, expensive, and scented faintly of smoke.
---
THE INVITATION
To Darius and Andrey,
You are cordially invited to a private dinner
tonight at 20:00
at the Rooftop Lounge Bar.
Attendance is expected.
Some events in this city have recently…
shifted the balance.
A warehouse reduced to ash.
A trail of blood washing up on the Azure Serpent Sea.
Whispers in the dark.
If you wish to understand what comes next,
join me.
— X
---
As soon as Andrey finished reading, his face drained of color.
"Darius… we shouldn't go. This feels wrong. Whoever this is… they're playing with us."
Darius folded the card slowly, jaw tightening.
"I investigated what happened to Clifford," he said quietly. "If someone is capable of doing that to him… imagine what they can do to us."
Andrey swallowed hard.
"So you still want to go?"
Darius nodded once, eyes cold.
"We don't have a choice. If someone like this wants to see us… running will only make it worse."
The room fell silent — the kind of silence that comes before a storm.
IN THE EVENINGS.
Darius and Andrey arrived at the lounge bar just as the city lights flickered on. After the usual formalities — which Andrey somehow managed to mess up twice — they were escorted to the rooftop.
The place was stunning. Lanterns glowed. The breeze was perfect. The kind of place where rich people pretend they're humble.
They took their seats. The attendants bowed and left.
Andrey stretched dramatically.
"This scenery is nice, isn't it?"
Darius didn't even look at him.
"Yes. But I'm more intrigued by who we're meeting. And it's been over an hour."
Andrey opened his mouth to complain — probably about hunger — when a loud feminine voice echoed across the rooftop.
"Apologies for the inconvenience. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I ran late."
Both brothers shot to their feet.
A woman approached, wearing a flowing Chinese hanfu and a black bamboo coolie hat with a veil. She moved like a floating cloud… a very intimidating cloud.
She bowed deeply.
"I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience caused."
Andrey blinked, then whispered loudly — too loudly:
"Oh wow… we're royalty now. Should I curtsy or something?"
Darius turned to him slowly, the disappointment radiating off him like heat.
"You dunderhead. That's their way of greeting and showing respect."
He bowed back, nudging Andrey so hard the man nearly toppled over.
Andrey's bow looked like he was trying to pick up something he dropped on the floor.
Darius straightened and cleared his throat.
"Please pardon my brother. He's careless… and lacks manners. And possibly brain cells. Forgive him."
The woman lifted her head slightly beneath the veil.
"It's no big deal," she said softly — though Darius was pretty sure she was judging them.
They all sat.
Andrey immediately whispered,
"Do you think she saw me almost fall?"
Darius didn't even blink.
"She saw everything."
Servants arrived with trays of food — steaming hot pot, dumplings, grilled skewers, and dishes Darius couldn't even pronounce. The woman in the hanfu folded her hands politely.
"Well, it's a pleasure to finally meet Darius and Andrey."
Darius nodded.
"The pleasure is ours."
Before he could say more, Andrey had already grabbed chopsticks and started eating like he hadn't seen food in three days.
Darius nudged him under the table.
Andrey ignored him completely.
"This hot pot is amazing," Andrey said with his mouth full.
The lady tilted her veiled head.
"You're welcome."
Darius wanted to sink into the floor.
He cleared his throat.
"If I may ask… what's this meeting all about?"
The woman's posture shifted — intimidating, but still oddly warm.
"Well, nothing serious," she said. "I simply want us to chat. Get to know each other. Before we begin working together."
A chill ran down Darius' spine.
Working together?
With her?
"Why not," he said, forcing a smile.
He scanned the rooftop.
No guards.
No backup.
Just him, Andrey, and a mysterious woman who moved like a ghost.
He had to choose every word carefully.
They ate. They talked. She asked questions that felt harmless… but weren't.
After the plates were cleared, servants brought wine.
She took the first glass, lifted her veil just enough, and drank.
Darius stared at his glass.
"You're being cautious," she said lightly. "It's just wine. Not poisoned."
Fear crawled up his spine.
"No, it's not that," he lied.
They drank.
Darius set his glass down slowly.
"Who are you?" he asked. "You're the one who murdered the other two. Let's get things straight. No hiding behind the bush."
Andrey froze mid‑sip.
The rooftop went silent.
The woman tilted her head, amused.
"I'm surprised you had the courage to ask that," she said softly. "Who I am doesn't matter."
She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping into something cold and razor‑sharp.
"But what I've already done to you… and what I will do to you… should terrify you."
Darius felt his heartbeat slam against his ribs.
Andrey whispered,
"Darius… I think we should've stayed home."
The woman lifted her glass, her voice calm… almost too calm.
"Well, just so you know," she said, "there was a pill in the food you ate. Nothing lethal — but it will make you nauseous, your heart will race, and you'll feel dizzy. And that pill was placed in Andrey's meal."
Darius shot to his feet.
"What do you mean? What is all this?"
She stood as well, unbothered.
"You'll see for yourself."
Right on cue, Andrey pressed a hand to his chest, his breathing uneven.
"Darius… I feel weird. My heart's pounding… my head is spinning… everything feels too bright."
Darius rushed to him.
"Andrey? What's wrong with you today?"
The woman folded her hands behind her back.
"Well, Andrey sniffed something he shouldn't have while being escorted here. A little stimulant. It made him high — that's why he was acting the way he did."
Darius glared at her.
"I knew something was wrong."
She tilted her head.
"No, you didn't. You just assumed he was anxious because he rarely attends meetings."
Andrey swayed, gripping Darius' arm.
"Darius… help me…"
Darius looked up at the veiled woman, panic rising.
"Please. Help me."
The lantern lights blurred.
The rooftop spun.
His knees buckled.
And everything went dark.
I awoke to the suffocating darkness, the air thick with an ominous presence. Andrey stirred beside me, our wrists bound by ropes, suspending us above the void. The room pulsed with an infernal heat, as if the very walls sweated malevolence.
The woman from earlier emerged, shrouded in shadows, her face a mystery behind the bamboo veil. Her smirk was a palpable thing, a cold whisper of vindication. "Who are you?" I demanded, my voice steady, despite the dread pooling in my stomach.
Her laughter was a chilling melody, low and throaty. "Ah, it's I, your worst enemy," she purred, her words dripping with venom. "I am the one you buried alive, six feet underground. I am the one you doused in diesel, burning away my innocence. I am the one you abused, body and soul."
With a deliberate slowness, she removed the veil, revealing a visage etched with a beauty so cold, it seared. Her eyes, like dark stars, burned with a fury that made my blood run cold. "How does it feel," she whispered, her breath a caress, "to be trapped, helpless, with no escape?"
Andrey's voice was a rough whisper, "I had a bad feeling about this, Darius . I warned you."
Darius snorted, "Not now, Andrey. We can't die like this."
Avery's gaze never wavered from mine. "Enough with the chit-chat. Let's get this over with."
She snapped her fingers, and the room erupted into a fiery hell. Darius's scream was a primal thing, a raw expression of terror. Andrey's voice cut through the chaos, "A man screaming? That's..."
"Shut up, Andrey," Darius shouted, his eyes fixed on the inferno below.
Andrey's gaze dropped, and his scream joined Darius's, a macabre harmony.
Avery's smile was a fleeting thing, a glimpse of triumph. "I have a flight to catch, gentlemen. And you... have an appointment with the devil."
With a wave of her hand, her minions released the ropes. We plummeted into the abyss, our screams echoing through the chamber, as Avery turned to leave, her men following in her wake. Two guards remained, tasked with cleaning up the mess, as the room reverberated with the whispers of our demise.
Avery's parting words lingered, a vow of vengeance fulfilled: "Remember this face... the face that sends you to hell."