Chapter 1: Werewolf Bloodline

In a military basement in Brooklyn, the air was thick with the smell of disinfectant and blood.

"The werewolf bloodline in your body hasn't fully merged yet." Military doctor Henry took off his glasses and looked at James Smith with a complicated expression. "Are you sure you want to leave?"

James wore a black coat, tall and powerfully built, with sharp, cold features.

He lowered his eyes, his voice deep: "I have more important things to do."

Henry sighed, walked up to him, and lowered his voice: "I know I can't stop you. But this is peacetime—people only believe in science. You must hide your werewolf bloodline well. Once exposed, it won't just be you—all of New York will panic."

James nodded expressionlessly, but he didn't really think so.

Five years ago, on that rainy night, he came home to find his wife Emily lying in a pool of blood, with a burglar standing beside her, still holding a knife.

In that moment, his world collapsed.

Rage broke through the seal on his bloodline. He lost control for the first time, transformed into a wolf, and tore the man apart.

Just as he was about to completely lose his mind, a mercenary group passed by the scene. Their captain injected James with a sedative and brought him back to this secret base.

When the mercenary group discovered he was an extremely rare werewolf descendant, they didn't report it or kill him. Instead, they hid him and secretly trained him for five years.

During those five years, he learned to control his bloodline, suppress his beast nature, master combat and tactics, and even became the top fighter in the group.

The reason he was leaving now was because the group had found out through the dark web that Emily's death years ago was connected to his family, the Smith family.

James was determined to return to the Smith Villa to find out the truth about Emily's death.

Henry watched James's departing figure and said quietly: "May God protect New York."

He knew better than anyone that once this young man let go of his restraints, the entire city would run with blood.

Meanwhile, in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, the Smith family was in a panic.

"You're saying... that shipment is lost?" Joseph's face darkened, his eyes fixed on his younger son Jocent.

He was the head of the Smith family and the father of both James and Jocent.

"I didn't mean to! Something went wrong during the deal..." Jocent was trembling with fear. "The Gambino family said either return the goods or hand over a Smith family life."

"A life?" Jocent's mother Catherine screamed. "Whose life do they want?"

"They didn't say... but I don't want to die!" Jocent suddenly looked up at Joseph with tears in his eyes. "Dad, you go for me! After you're gone, I'll definitely take good care of the family..."

Joseph slapped him across the face: "What did you say?"

"Please, Dad." Jocent covered his face, his voice shaking. "I'm still young, I don't want to die... You've already lived so many years anyway, you've had all the good life you could have..."

"I'll beat you to death, you bastard!" Joseph was shaking with rage and raised his hand again.

Catherine grabbed him, crying: "What good will hitting him do? We need to figure something out!"

Joseph's hand hung in mid-air, then dropped weakly.

Figure something out—what could he do? He didn't want his son to die either.

But the Gambino family was New York's biggest mafia organization. No family dared to cross them.

When they wanted someone dead, even Jesus couldn't stop it.

Just as the family was at a loss, the butler suddenly burst in, looking flustered: "Mr. Smith is back."

Jocent paused, looking displeased: "I'm right here. What other Mr. Smith is there?"

For as long as he could remember, he had been the only son of the Smith family.

But Catherine started thinking. She slowly turned her head, her eyes full of hope: "Joseph, could it be your son with your ex-wife?"

Joseph's pupils contracted: "You mean James? How is that possible? He killed someone and disappeared five years ago. Even the police couldn't find him."

James was Joseph's child with his ex-wife. After his ex-wife died, to please his current wife Catherine, he kicked seven-year-old James out of the house.

He didn't even attend James's wedding.

Later, when the police came to him saying James's wife had died and he had killed someone, Joseph remembered he had a son with his ex-wife.

But by then he already had Jocent and didn't care whether James lived or died, so he gave a simple statement and put the matter out of his mind.

"Not finding him doesn't mean he's dead. He's come back safe and sound, hasn't he?" A cold gleam flashed in Catherine's eyes. "The Gambino family wants us to hand over a Smith family member, right? James is your son too, also part of the Smith family. How about..."

The family exchanged glances, understanding each other perfectly, and immediately went out to greet James.

The door opened. James stood at the entrance, still wearing that black coat, his face cold and his gaze indifferent.

"James! My child!" Catherine was the first to rush forward with exaggerated acting. "You're finally back! We've missed you so much!"

Joseph also forced an awkward smile: "It's good you're back."

Jocent stood behind them, his eyes full of contempt and disdain.

James stepped aside to avoid Catherine's hand, his tone icy: "Do I know you?"

Catherine's expression was awkward for a moment, then she immediately put on a smile: "I'm your mother! Don't you remember? I even held you when you were little."

James had actually recognized her long ago but didn't want to play along with her act. His expression remained cold: "My mother died when I was born."

Joseph couldn't take it anymore and tried to play peacemaker: "James, don't be like this. We're all family."

"Sorry, but I'm not family with you people." James's gaze swept over them coldly. "I was kicked out for over ten years, and none of you thought to find me. Now you're putting on this caring act—just tell me, what do you want?"

The group looked at each other. No one wanted to speak first.

Finally, Catherine dropped to her knees and wailed: "James, please save Jocent! He's going to die!"

"He offended the Gambino family, and they want to kill him! You're his brother—you can't just watch him die!"

James looked at Jocent.

Jocent pulled at Catherine, looking entitled: "Mom, why are you kneeling to him? Being able to die for me is his honor. How dare he refuse?"

"Shut up!" Joseph glared at him, then turned to James with a pleasing tone: "James, you're also part of the Smith family. You have a responsibility to contribute."

James laughed coldly.

He finally understood.

Five years away, and not one word of concern—they just wanted him to die.

"Why should I die for a waste of space?" James asked bluntly.

Jocent flew into a rage, rolled up his sleeves and charged at James: "Who are you calling a waste? Are you tired of living?"

He raised his fist, trying to punch James.

James didn't move, didn't even raise his hand.

An invisible force surged from within him, hitting Jocent square in the chest.

Jocent screamed and flew backward, crashed heavily into the wall, slid to the ground, and clutched his chest, wailing.

Everyone was stunned.

Joseph and Catherine stared wide-eyed at James, as if looking at a monster.

They hadn't seen James make a move at all. Did he have some special ability?

James slowly walked toward Jocent, looking down at him with cold eyes: "You want me to die for you? That's not impossible. But you must agree to one condition."