"The body was found with a bullet wound to the back of the head—an execution-style killing. Authorities have also confirmed the death of his twin brother, who had been posing as a royal servant within the palace. His body was discovered in the palace yard, hidden in the bushes. Preliminary reports suggest he fell from a significant height, breaking his neck on impact."
The broadcast flickered across a wall of monitors in a dimly lit room, each screen tuned to a different news station—yet all playing the same report. The kingdom was watching.
Two figures stood in the shadows, faces obscured by hoods and masks.
"Well done, BK," one of them said, seated near the monitors, voice low and satisfied.
"Now we just killed two birds with one stone. It's only a matter of time before chaos starts to rain. The Twin Wolves gang won't sit still with two of their bosses dead and their killer is none other than Slovak the scorpion king. It won't be long until the war erupts."
"You know I always get the job done right, Bailey," BK replied, arms crossed.
"If you want it clean and quiet, I'm your man."
"Mmm... I guess," Bailey murmured, his gaze lingering on the image of the dead royal servant frozen on one of the screens.
A memory flashed through his mind.
The night of the Masquerade Ball.
He had just finished changing back into the elegant feminine disguise and was preparing to leave when a flicker of movement caught her eye—a shadow lingering just outside the cubicle door. She quickly slipped her gun into her purse, in order to reach it if the figure proved hostile.
Calmly, she packed the mission's incognito outfit into a bag and stuffed it back into the air vent. Then, with practiced precision, she poured a condensing liquid over the bag, watching as it dissolved into a pool of ash.
She moved slowly toward the door, one hand reaching for the handle, the other gripping her concealed weapon. She cracked the door open and scanned the hallway.
Nothing.
The shadow had vanished.
She stepped out, intending to retrace her steps—but froze. The corridor was now swarming with royal guards, clearly alerted to the break-in at the Royal Archives.
Pivoting quickly, she turned down the opposite hallway. As she passed another row of cubicles, something caught her eye—just the tips of two black shoes peeking out from beneath a door.
She kept walking, feigning nonchalance, disappearing around the corner. Then she waited.
Moments later, the cubicle door creaked open.
She saw him.
Recognized him.
His face was unmistakable—one she'd seen before during her reconnaissance missions through the gang-ridden underbelly of the kingdom.
He stepped out cautiously, glancing around before slipping into the cubicle she had just vacated. He began searching, rifling through the space, clearly looking for something she might have left behind.
She smiled to herself.
A plan already forming.
She pulled out her phone, quietly recorded the scene, then typed a message:
"Send this to Slovak. We just found his prey. Use it as bait to lure him to us."
She tucked the phone away, her smile widening into something wicked.
Then she turned and walked off—silent, composed, and utterly pleased with herself.
....
Back to the Present
Bailey was still smiling, lost in the memory.
"Did you leave the weapon like I asked?" he said, voice low and measured.
BK nodded.
"Yeah. I left it attached to the tree near the study. It's not easy to spot, but I'm sure the Dragon's minions will sniff it out once they sense something's off."
"Good," Bailey replied.
"That'll keep the Dragon chasing shadows for a while. I heard his favorite minion—the White Tiger—was snooping around the marketplace earlier, asking questions about us. They already know we exist, so we need to be ready. The Dragon's sharp. Smart. It won't take him long to trace the scent. We need to use this window of confusion to dismantle and disappear. We'll regroup after the bridal selection."
He stood from his seat, brushing imaginary dust from his coat.
"Affirmative, Boss," said BK.
"But what about Ricky and his mission? Should we abandon that too?"
Bailey shook his head.
"No. Ricky's mission is... special. It doesn't involve our current players. He's safe for now. Tell Yati to keep the money flowing to the needy and the vulnerable—but use the Black Widow's web. I don't want the Dragon's minions tracing it back to us."
"Affirmative, Boss," BK echoed.
"So... when do I get the pleasure of your company again?"
Bailey smirked.
"You know we're never too far apart, BK. Now go enjoy your holiday on that tropical island. Just don't let the piranhas bite your ass—I still need it in one piece."
BK grinned.
"Don't worry, Boss. I'll keep it firm and smooth for you until I get back. And when I'm back, I'll let you have a feel—just to make sure it's still up to your standard."
He winked.
Bailey chuckled.
"Stay in your lane, soldier. And don't let the booze run you over—or it won't just be your ass that gets chewed on."
He turned toward the door.
"See you when you see me."
BK tilted his head in parting.
"See you when you see me."
Bailey exited the room.
BK watched the door close, then turned back to the monitors.
The news had shifted.
Now, it was covering the upcoming bridal selection—how the kingdom buzzed with anticipation.
BK leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk on his lips.
"Good luck, Boss," he whispered.
.....
Beep. Beep.
The heart monitor echoed softly in the small hospital room.
Daniel stood in the corner, watching Blake's pale figure beneath the sheets. IV lines snaked around his arms, feeding a yellowish liquid through translucent tubes.
In Daniel's hand was a small vial filled with a golden, viscous fluid. He flipped it slowly between his fingers, the glass catching the dim light.
His crimson eyes stayed fixed on Blake's chest—rising and falling in a fragile rhythm.
His own chest felt heavy.
With something he couldn't quite name.
Was it anger? Disdain?
Or something far more dangerous—something he thought he'd buried long ago?
Care.
Then, without warning, a memory surged.
A hospital bed.
A frail figure.
A small hand—his—reaching out.
Another hand, trembling, reaching back.
Eyes filled with pain.
A final, silent plea.
Daniel flinched and turned away.
The memory was too much. Too painful to remember.
He had locked it deep within the abyss of his heart, sealed behind walls he swore would never crack. He wouldn't let it surface. Not now. Not ever.
He drew a slow, steadying breath.
Trying to silence the storm rising inside him.
Trying to remember who he was.
And forget who he used to be.
"Where did you find the antidote?" Daniel muttered.
Beside him stood a figure clad in a black and red martial arts combat outfit, face hidden behind a sleek mask.
"A gang called the Scorpion Kings had it," the figure replied.
"The poison too. And you won't believe who their leader is."
Daniel turned, eyes narrowing.
"Who?"
But before the figure could answer, a knock came at the door.
"My Prince, it's me—Sam."
Daniel glanced at the masked figure and gave a subtle nod.
The figure bowed slightly, then vanished into the shadows without a sound.
The door creaked open, and Sam stepped inside, bowing in greeting.
"What did you find?" Daniel asked.
"My men searched the trees near the study," Sam began, "and we found... this. It was attached to a tree at the far back, near the direction of the window."
He pulled out his phone and held it up.
On the screen: a small tranquilizer gun, mounted to a tree, with a compact device wired to it.
Daniel's eyes flared.
"Good work. But why the fuck are you showing it to me on your phone? Where is the device? Where's the weapon?"
Sam flinched.
"Unfortunately... we can't remove it. It's movement-sensitive. One of the guards nearly got shot when he tried to approach. The gun auto-targets and tracks motion. We can't risk disarming it without triggering it."
Daniel's crimson eyes burned brighter as he stared at Sam.
Sam felt the weight of that gaze press down on him—like a boulder crushing his lungs.
"Is that all?" Daniel asked, voice low and dangerous.
"N-no... no. I also investigated the weapon's origin. It's a unique design. Only one manufacturer produces it..."
He hesitated.
Daniel's gaze sharpened.
"Who?"
Sam swallowed hard.
"T-Tristan Industries."
Daniel's eyes widened—just for a moment.
"Lord Slovak."
Lord Slovak was the Royal Minister of Defence and Security—and the Queen's paternal cousin, her older cousin brother. He had been appointed after the previous minister, Daniel's maternal uncle, was accused of treason. The charge: an attempted assassination of the Queen, whom he blamed for the death of his sister—Daniel's mother.
Daniel stood frozen, the revelation sinking in.
Then—
"Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha. Ha."
He burst into hysterical laughter.
Sam flinched, confused—and afraid. He knew this laugh. It meant the Prince was about to unleash hell.
Daniel laughed for a few more seconds before abruptly stopping.
"Sam."
"Y-yes, Your Highness."
"Call the special ops team. Tell them to extract that fucking thing from my tree—now. And make sure no one else finds out. I don't want my prey slipping away. This time..."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"...I'm going to make things even."
Sam saluted sharply.
"Yes, Your Highness. I'll see to it immediately."
He bowed and exited the room.
Daniel turned to Blake, still unconscious beneath the sheets.
"Viper."
The masked figure in black and red martial arts gear materialized from the shadows.
"At your command, my Liege."
"Is Lord Slovak the leader of the Scorpion Kings?"
"Yes, my Liege. He's the primary mastermind. But the gang has global branches, each run by different leaders. Taking him down directly will be... difficult."
Daniel smiled coldly.
"Don't worry. We're not in a hurry."
He sat back in the chair, eyes gleaming.
"Tell Wisp to stand down. We're not attacking tonight. The Twin Wolves gang will be calling for blood—they'll strike the Scorpion Kings soon enough. We'll watch. Learn how they operate. Gauge their strength."
He leaned forward, voice low and lethal.
"And once we have what we need... kill them all. One branch at a time. Until the trunk is bare. And when it is..."
He smiled.
"...I'll rip it out, chop it to pieces and burn it to ash. Slowly. Until nothing remains."
"Yes, my Liege."
Viper bowed and vanished into the shadows.
Daniel turned back to Blake, his gaze softening for a moment—as if making a silent vow.
Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a delicate blue necklace, its pendant etched with the initials: A.R.S.
He held it up, watching it shimmer in the dim light.
"Don't worry, my mystery woman," he whispered.
"I haven't forgotten you. You want me off your trail so badly... fine. I'll play along. And thank you—for handing me a foe of mine on a silver platter."
He twirled the necklace between his fingers, a wicked smile curling on his lips.
"But someday soon... I'll find you. And when I do, you won't escape me. Ever again."
It was a promise.
A vow of reckoning.
And the thrill of it made his heart race.
He couldn't wait.