The Velvet Fang was an exclusive bar hidden in the city's darkest alleyways, a place where power whispered beneath the clinking of glasses and the low pulse of jazz. Tonight, the air was heavy with silent threats as two notorious factions prepared to face off.
Leng Xuanmo arrived first, his presence a quiet storm. Tall and commanding, dressed in a midnight tailored suit that hugged his broad frame, he entered the dimly lit lounge without a word. His sharp eyes scanned the room always alert, always calculating.
Beside him walked Leng Shiyan, his cousin. Though less powerful than Xuanmo, Shiyan's cold aura rivaled his cousin's. The two men moved with the same predator grace, the room falling into a tense hush as they took their seats at the obsidian table, their Blood Shadow Hall emblem gleaming on the cufflinks.
Across from them sat the leader of the Heavens Net—a man known as Jiang "The Serpent" Wei, whose reputation for cruelty was matched only by the venom tattoo curling along his neck. Flanked by his bodyguards, Jiang's cruel smile barely masked his unease.
"Leng Xuanmo is the strongest for a reason," Shiyan growled, sweeping a body aside as another attacker charged. "You made a mistake underestimating us."
Jiang Wei tried to escape the firefight but was blocked by Li Zeyan, the strategist of the Blood Shadow Hall, who emerged from the shadows, gun trained on Jiang's chest.
"Your reign ends here," Li said coldly. "You attacked Xuanmo. You brought war to our doorstep."
The room was filled with the sound of grunts, crashing furniture, and harsh breathing. But the tide was clear—Blood Shadow Hall held the upper hand.
Xuanmo moved toward Jiang, calm and inexorable, his eyes burning with controlled fury. "You made a fatal error. Now you will pay."
Jiang smirked weakly, but before he could respond, Shiyan kicked a chair into his path, forcing him down.
"Leng Xuanmo is not to be challenged," Shiyan said, voice like ice. "He protects his family and territory. Cross him again, and there will be no peace."
The remaining Heavens Net men, broken and beaten, fled into the night.
As silence fell, Xuanmo surveyed the wrecked room—broken glass, blood-stained carpets, overturned chairs. His expression was unreadable.
Shiyan approached his cousin, nodding slightly. "We sent a clear message."
Leng Xuanmo's voice cut the silence like a razor. "You attacked me in my territory. You crossed a line that cannot be forgiven."
Jiang's smile twisted, darkening. "The Blood Shadow Hall thinks itself untouchable. We merely reminded you you bleed like the rest of us."
Leng Shiyan's eyes narrowed, but Xuanmo raised a hand to still him. Calm, cold, lethal, Xuanmo leaned forward. "This meeting was supposed to be peaceful. But you brought violence first."
The tension crackled, palpable as electricity.
Without warning, one of Jiang's men lunged forward with a hidden blade. But Leng Shiyan was faster. He grabbed the attacker's wrist, twisted it sharply, and with a sickening snap, disarmed him. Before the man could recover, a fist from Xuanmo's side smashed into his temple, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Chaos exploded.
Gunshots rang out, the velvet curtains trembling under the barrage. The Heavens Net men scrambled for cover, but the Blood Shadow Hall moved like shadows—silent and deadly.
Leng Xuanmo's hand was steady as he fired, each shot precise, incapacitating but not lethal. Beside him, Shiyan fought with brutal efficiency, turning enemies' attacks against them, dismantling the opposition with cold skill.
Xuanmo's gaze hardened. "Yes. Let them know the Blood Shadow Hall is not to be trifled with. This war is far from over."
The two men stood, their silhouettes sharp against the flickering candlelight.
In the depths of the Velvet Fang, power had spoken—and the blood shadow of the Leng family grew darker still.