The parking lot was still and cold. My footsteps echoed as I walked between luxury cars, each one more ridiculous than the last. There were Maseratis, Bentleys, Lamborghinis, the toys of the arrogant sons of the elite.
And yet, for all their noise, none of them could buy the kind of silence that followed me now.
My phone buzzed again.
Not the old one, the burner. The real one, now reactivated.
A new message glowed across the black screen:
"Command center online. Awaiting location ping."
Another buzz followed.
Then another.Like a hive of hornets waking from slumber.
One by one, encrypted lines came alive. Ghost numbers. Hidden networks. Forgotten names.Dragon Court had returned.
And with it, so had I.
****
Ten minutes later, I stepped into a private suite on the 66th floor of the Sky Eagle Tower,it was a building no one knew I owned. It had been registered under a dummy corporation in Singapore, then layered under a subsidiary in Geneva, until it was forgotten by the very people who helped me hide it.
The elevator pinged. The lights blinked on automatically, revealing a space trimmed in black marble, gold accents, and silence.
But I wasn't alone.
He was already waiting for me.
Duan Yu.
He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in a sharp grey suit, his back straight, expression unreadable. His buzz-cut hair and the knife scar running from his jaw to his collarbone made him look more like a mercenary than a businessman and he was both.
When I walked in, he turned and dropped to one knee.
"Lord Tian," he said with absolute conviction, head bowed.
I stared at him for a moment.
The last time I saw Duan Yu, I was bleeding out on a rooftop in Morocco, betrayed, hunted, and presumed dead. I told him to disappear, to scatter the Court's assets and vanish without trace. I expected never to see him again.
But here he was.
Loyal and patient. waiting for me.
"Stand up," I said softly. "It's been three years."
He rose, eyes gleaming with something between relief and mischief.
"We've been monitoring the Zhang family since you vanished," Duan Yu said, walking to the digital panel embedded in the wall. With a swipe, he projected a 3D city map across the room.
"Your orders, sir?"
I stared at the map for a long moment. It flickered, zoomed, highlighted locations: banks, companies, criminal dens, private estates, they were all targets I once controlled.
And now?
Now they were fractured, swallowed up by the worms who rushed to fill the void I left.
"The Zhangs," I said calmly. "Start with them."
****
The next morning, I returned to the Zhang residence as usual. I carried breakfast boxes like always, from a local shop, because they never trusted my taste and wore the same faded jeans and knockoff sneakers they'd mocked me for two days ago.
To them, I hadn't changed.That was the beauty of it.
They still thought I was the dog.
I knocked twice before entering.
The house was a two-story faux-European villa, all marble tiles and gold-coated plastic. The chandelier in the dining room was imported ,they made sure to tell everyone but the plumbing didn't work half the time.
Pathetic.
Zhang Meiling was already at the table in her robe, reading gossip headlines on her tablet.
"You're late," she said, without looking up.
I set the boxes down. "I waited in line—"
She raised a hand. "Excuses. Always excuses."
I clenched my jaw.
It didn't matter.
The Zhangs weren't even worth my anger anymore.
They were pawns. Empty threats. Ghosts walking toward the cliff and smiling.
Zhang Deshun entered next, grumbling as usual. "If you're going to sponge off us, at least learn to be useful."
I said nothing. Just poured his tea.
They didn't notice the way my eyes no longer flinched.
They didn't notice the quiet calm in my breath.
They didn't know that by this time next week, they'd be begging in the streets.
Zhang Xue'er came downstairs last, dressed in a soft grey blouse and pencil skirt, her long black hair tied up in a low ponytail. She looked tired.
And beautiful.
I hated how that hadn't changed.Her eyes flicked to me.
There was something different in her gaze now, guilt, maybe. Or confusion. A part of her was still trying to justify what she said last night at the banquet.
Even dogs can be loyal.
That sentence should've broken me.
But it had forged something else.
Something unshakable.
"Li Tian," she said cautiously, "we need to talk."
Zhang Meiling looked up, immediately suspicious. "Talk? About what?"
"Alone," Xue'er said.
The old woman frowned, but her daughter's tone didn't leave room for argument.
I followed Xue'er to the side balcony. The air outside was crisp, laced with morning sunlight and smog. She stood at the edge, arms folded.
She didn't look at me when she spoke.
"I didn't mean what I said last night. Not... completely."
I waited.
Let her talk.
"Things have been difficult for me," she went on. "The company. My parents. Qin Hao. Everything's been pressing down and"
"I understand," I said quietly.
She looked surprised.
"I don't blame you," I added. "You did what you had to do."
For a moment, she looked like she wanted to cry.
But she didn't.
Xue'er never cried. Not in front of people. Not even in front of me.
She took a breath and said, "There's something happening. My father's company, it's being targeted. Our accounts were frozen this morning. Half the staff didn't show up. I thought it was just a competitor, but... it feels too precise."
I raised an eyebrow, keeping my expression blank.
"Oh?" I said.
She nodded. "I don't know how you know about this kind of thing, but if there's any way you can help... I'd appreciate it."
There it was.
The first flicker.
The first crack in the mask she wore.
But I wasn't here for gratitude.
I was here to take back everything.
"I'll see what I can do," I said, smiling.
She nodded slowly, unsure how to read me.
That made two of us.
****
That afternoon, the first strike hit.
Zhang Group's logistics network suffered a sudden power outage. Five trucks loaded with high-value inventory were hijacked by anonymous contractors that couldn't be traced.
Their headquarters received a cyberattack, wiping five years' worth of digital records and client files.
Qin Hao tried to step in with a "rescue loan" at 30% monthly interest.
Zhang Deshun accepted it.
But before the paperwork could be signed, a breaking news headline went viral:
"Qin Conglomerate Under Investigation for Tax Fraud — Stock Plummets 60% Overnight"
Qin Hao lost 400 million yuan before lunch.
His father had a heart attack.
I didn't have to lift a finger. Duan Yu handled everything.
By evening, I was sitting in the corner of the living room again, drinking tea, while the Zhangs paced back and forth like trapped rats.
"How could this happen?" Zhang Deshun shouted.
"That bastard Qin Hao tricked us!" Zhang Meiling yelled. "We should've listened to Xue'er!"
Zhang Xue'er stood in the corner, silent.
Her eyes found mine.
There was something different now.
Something dangerous.
She's starting to wonder.
Good.
Let her.
The night passed in chaos. Lawyers were called. Police arrived. News reporters camped outside the gate.
And through it all, I stayed silent.
I waited.
Until midnight.
When my phone buzzed again.
I opened the message.
"Phase One complete. Awaiting next command, Lord Tian."
I looked out the window, watching the chaos below. The Zhangs were learning what it meant to bite the hand that once fed them.
This was just the beginning.
They wanted a dog.
Now they'd learn what it felt like to face a dragon.