The Charity Gala should've ended in applause and laughter. For Ye Chen, the night's air tasted sharp, tinged with ozone and the scent of violence. His sister, Ye Qing, scrambled her people to lock down the city, but the Ye Family's Ghost Squad didn't play by normal rules. They didn't storm gates. They slipped through cracks, quiet as poison gas, deadly and unseen.
"Master, Cloud-Peak Manor's on lockdown," Han Mufeng's voice crackled over the radio as Ye Chen's car tore through empty midnight streets. "But something's off. The outer thermal sensors gone. No alarms, no interference. Just… nothing."
Ye Chen's heart hammered. Su Yan and her father were in that house. He gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles ached. "Qing'er, send the airborne unit to the manor. Now!"
"Ten minutes out, Brother! But the First Elder's jamming our satellite feed!" Ye Qing's voice came back, jittery with worry.
Ten minutes. That's forever if you're waiting to die.
Inside Cloud-Peak Manor, Su Yan helped her father, Su Tang, settle into bed. The whole place felt wrong. The air was too still. Even the hum of the AC had stopped.
"Yan'er," Su Tang whispered, eyes darting. "The shadows… they're moving."
She turned. Darkness peeled away from the wall. A man stepped forward, silent, wrapped in matte-black tactical gear and a mask—porcelain white, mouth slashed with a jagged red line. He held a blade that seemed to drink the light around it.
The Ghost Apostle. Squad leader.
"Ye Chen's wife," the voice behind the mask rasped. "The Elder sends his regards. He says if the Dragon has no heart to protect, he will have no reason to fight."
Su Yan planted herself between the man and her father. Her legs shook, but her eyes never left the mask. "Touch him and Ye Chen will hunt you to the ends of the earth."
The Apostle tilted his head. "Then I'll meet him in hell."
He raised his blade.
The window exploded inward. Glass showered the room. A shape shot through, so fast you couldn't track it.
Ye Chen didn't just arrive, he crashed into the Apostle, slamming him through the bedroom door, into the marble railing outside. The impact snapped stone and sent shards everywhere.
Ye Chen got up, jacket gone, white shirt streaked with fresh blood. His wounds had reopened, but his eyes burned—they weren't just gold now, they were molten.
"You broke into my house," he growled, voice shaking the crystal chandeliers. "You threatened my wife."
The Apostle spat blood, sneering. "Master Ye, you're spent. You used up your energy saving the old man. You're a tiger with no claws."
Four more Ghost Squad soldiers dropped from the skylight, blades out. They moved as one, weaving a cage of steel around Ye Chen.
He smiled, a thin, dangerous thing. "I don't need claws to crush bugs."
And then he moved.
This wasn't the Shadow-Step, No, this was something else, 'Dragon's Wrath,' the move nobody dared to use. It chewed through your life force just to let you move like a god for a few heartbeats.
Su Yan stood in the doorway and, to her, her husband just disappeared.
CRUNCH.
Ye Chen's fist smashed straight through the first Ghost's mask, shattering bone and porcelain in one go.
SHING.
He caught a sword barehanded, metal screeching as he snapped it in half. Then he drove that broken blade right into the second Ghost's throat.
Three left, including the Apostle. They all charged at once. Ye Chen didn't bother dodging. He let their blades sink into his shoulders, his side, pinning them to him.
"Now," Ye Chen growled, blood bubbling at his lips. "You're mine."
He grabbed two by the heads and slammed them together so hard the crack echoed down the hall. They crumpled, dead before they even hit the ground.
The Apostle stared, frozen, as his squad died in seconds. He tried to run, but Ye Chen's hand closed around his throat like steel.
"Who... what are you?" the Apostle gasped, his mask tumbling away. His face twisted up in pure terror.
"I'm the son you should've killed ten years ago," Ye Chen said.
He wrenched the Apostle's neck until it broke, then let the body fall.
Now he stood in the hallway, blood pouring from a dozen wounds, surrounded by the world's deadliest assassins. He looked like he stepped straight out of a nightmare.
"Ye Chen!" Su Yan rushed to him, sobbing. She barely noticed the blood or the bodies—she just threw her arms around him. "You're bleeding! Oh God, you're dying—"
"I'm not... allowed to die," Ye Chen wheezed, slumping against her as his strength gave out. "Not until... I've built you a world where nobody can ever hurt you again."
The Final Ultimatum
Chopper blades thundered overhead. Ye Qing's squad finally showed up, soldiers rappelling down and locking down the building, but it was all over.
Ye Qing sprinted inside, skidding to a halt when she saw the mess. Her brother, barely standing, Su Yan holding him up, bodies everywhere.
"He killed an entire Ghost Squad... while wounded," she whispered to Han Mufeng. "The Elders have no idea what they've started."
Ye Chen looked up, pale but sharp-eyed.
"Qing'er," he rasped.
"I'm here, Brother."
"Get the jet ready," he said, voice hardening. "And send a message to the Capital. Use the Ye Family's encrypted frequency."
"What's the message?"
Ye Chen glanced at Su Yan, then at the moon pouring in through the broken window.
"Tell them: The Dragon isn't coming back. The Dragon is here. Tomorrow, the Ye Family name disappears from history."