Lavender Edifice had become one of the most luxurious buildings in L.A. over the past five years. Major high-profile events were routinely held there. With security this tight, important guests felt no sense of danger at all.
"Your building is truly magnificent, Mr. Gonzales. You have only been playing in L.A. for five years, yet your fingers already grip nearly the entire city," a middle-aged man murmured while looking out the window from the fiftieth floor. Though it sounded like praise, there was no pleasure on his face.
"It is all thanks to your support, General Smith," Greg Gonzales lowered his head beside him, replying in a subdued tone. "With your connections, I was able to expand my underground business network. You are my savior."
Hauser Smith, a five-star general of the army, showed no reaction to the flattery. To him, it sounded no different from an annoying buzz.
"There is no such thing as a free lunch in this world, Greg. You understand that," Hauser replied emotionlessly. "Everything has a price. The question is, have you paid on time?"
"I have paid exactly as you requested, General Smith," Greg answered quickly. "That soldier named Johan Fox is dead. His body sank to the bottom of the ocean. His entire family went down with him. There will be no future retaliation."
"I never doubted your efficiency, Greg," Hauser said calmly.
"But this time, you were careless. And that disappoints me. Very much."
Greg swallowed hard when he noticed the change in Hauser's expression. Something had happened without his knowledge. Definitely. Something big, chaotic, and unstoppable.
"Johan is still alive."
The words struck Greg like lightning. His face turned deathly pale.
"That's impossible. It can't be!" Greg protested, breathing heavily. "I personally confirmed his death. A bullet was lodged in his chest. His body was dragged to the ocean floor with a one-ton anchor. There's no way he survived!"
His desperate denial was answered with a brutal punch to the stomach.
Greg vomited fresh blood and collapsed to the floor.
"I have the best intelligence network in the world," Hauser said coldly. "You should not doubt them."
"But, General—"
"One hour ago, Johan arrived at a secret harbor facility in this city. I ordered all the troops there to ambush and eliminate him," Hauser continued. "Do you know what happened to them?"
Greg froze. He did not dare to answer. He already knew.
"They are all dead. Not a single survivor. The reinforcement team found their heads crushed by blunt force. Not one of them died from gunfire."
Hauser paused, recalling the days he had fought alongside Johan. He had witnessed his brutality on the battlefield with his own eyes.
"One of my men saw him at a cemetery, burying his younger brother. You not only failed to kill that monster," Hauser continued, "you made him grow even bigger, more dangerous. And he will come here for your head."
Hauser turned and walked away calmly.
"He is only looking for you, Greg. I might only need to cut off your head to satisfy him."
Greg rushed forward and threw himself at Hauser's feet.
"General, please give me a second chance to fix this! I swear I will handle everything!" Greg begged hysterically, tears and mucus running down his face without shame.
Hauser shot him a cold, disgusted glance.
"Unfortunately, I see no way to stop that monster. He has grown beyond control. There is no seond chance for you nor for me."
Greg shook his head violently and blurted out, "There is still one way, General. One final move!"
Hauser said nothing, but he listened.
"His wife… Christina. She's still with me. I can use her," said Greg.
Hauser smiled faintly as he resumed walking.
"Do whatever you want. I'll give you until dawn. You know what happens if you fail."
***
The rain at the L.A. cemetery had never felt this cold.
Johan stood motionless before his brother's gravestone.
Beside him, Airen, now in her full human form, could sense the dark aura surrounding her master. She did not fully understand the depth of human loss, so she chose not to comment.
"Have you ever been betrayed this deeply?" Johan asked suddenly.
Airen pointed at herself, realizing the question was meant for her alone, but she could not find the right answer.
"Not just my friends," Johan continued, his voice sinking lower.
"Even the country I bled for betrayed me. I feel like a horse thrown away once it's no longer useful. In the end, all of this shit was meaningless."
"The gods did not choose you for a simple reason, Johan," Airen replied at last. "They saw something in you. They placed a heavy bet on you because they know you will win."
Johan lifted his gaze to her blue eyes and asked sarcastically,
"They'll betray me too in the end, won't they?"
Airen was briefly startled, then quickly composed herself.
"There are no actions without consequences, Master. You must become the consequence for those who stabbed you in the back. No matter who they are."
Johan looked up at the sky.
"Consequences, huh?" he said with a faint smile. "So be it."
He left the cemetery on his motorcycle. The engine's roar echoed through the city as he headed straight for Lavender Edifice.
It did not take long to reach the porte-cochère of the luxury building. Johan abandoned his bike and walked into the main lobby.
Every security officer and staff member turned their eyes toward him.
They scanned Johan from head to toe, filled with suspicion and alertness, yet chose to hold their positions. At least for now.
Still wearing his black leather jacket, Johan stopped in front of the reception desk.
"I'm here for Greg Gonzales' charity event," he said bluntly.
The female receptionist nodded politely.
"You have been personally expected by the host, Mr. Fox. I will escort you to Lavender Main Hall."
As he followed her, Johan glanced around with mild interest.
He noticed something the moment he stepped into the building.
Every single staff member had been replaced by special forces soldiers.
Every single one.
The receptionist walking ahead of him had a solid build and muscular arms. Her stride was wide and controlled. Her right arm did not swing freely, ready to reach for a concealed weapon beneath her leggings. A textbook operative.
"You guys are planning something, huh?" Johan murmured.
She just glanced at him with a smile.
They stopped before a five-meter-tall steel door under heavy guard. The receptionist explained that Lavender Main Hall lay beyond it, a room with the highest level of security in the entire city.
Johan entered alone once the guards opened the door.
Rows upon rows of seats filled the hall, all facing a stage where Jacob stood behind a podium.
"We are deeply grateful to our distinguished guests for participating in this charitable organization. May all the kindness you have shown—"
Jacob's speech halted when he noticed Johan seated in the very back row.
His body stiffened for a brief moment. His survival instincts screamed at him. But he remembered every instruction Greg Gonzales had given him. The event had to continue.
"Every good deed brings good karma," Jacob continued, forcing his composure. "No action escapes the creator's judgment. Consequences follow every action. That is what my friend always said."
He paused, smiling wider as he gestured toward the back seats.
"Speaking of him, the one who inspired me so deeply is with us tonight."
Jacob pointed straight toward Johan. His smile remained, but the tremor in his index finger betrayed his fear.
"Warlord Johan Fox is among us."