Chapter 8: Shadow Syndicate

The Bronx, the most chaotic neighborhood in New York.

The streets here are narrow, walls covered with messy graffiti - a paradise for gangs.

James appeared, stepping through puddles on the street, his face ice-cold.

In the distance came the sound of shattering glass, followed by rough cursing.

"Victor, this is my last warning. This property has already been claimed."

"If you don't move your crappy bar, next time it won't be your windows getting smashed - it'll be your bones!"

A muscular man with a mohawk, holding a baseball bat, was arrogantly standing with one foot on the counter.

The bar was a complete mess - tables and chairs overturned, expensive bottles shattered all over the floor.

Victor was lying in a pool of blood.

His face was bruised and swollen, yet he still clung desperately to the thug's leg.

"This is... my father left this to me... I won't sell... you thieves..."

"You don't know when to quit!"

The thug sneered and raised the bat high, aiming for Victor's head.

Just as the bat was about to come down, a hand shot out from the side and grabbed the bat.

The thug froze. He realized that even using all his strength, the bat wouldn't budge from the other person's grip - like it was glued there.

He looked up along the arm and met a pair of cold eyes.

"Who... who are you?"

The thug's heart trembled inexplicably.

"The person who's going to kill you." James's voice was flat as his wrist gave a slight shake.

James's five fingers tightened.

The baseball bat twisted in James's hand like a toy.

With a backhand swing, the twisted bat struck the thug's chest. The thug let out a scream and flew backward, crashing into the liquor cabinet behind him.

"Damn it! Kill him!"

The thug's men behind him shouted and rushed forward.

James's expression didn't change. His figure became a blur, moving through the bar like a shadow.

Cracking sounds rang out, followed by screams!

In less than thirty seconds, all the thugs who had been so arrogant moments ago were now lying on the ground moaning.

James walked up to the lead thug and stepped on his throat. "Whatever you broke, pay back ten times. If Victor doesn't get his money by tomorrow, I'll go twist your boss's head off."

"Yes... yes... we'll definitely pay..."

The thug begged desperately, on the edge of suffocation.

James lifted his foot and bent down to help Victor up. His fingertips moved slightly, channeling a trace of werewolf power into Victor's body to stabilize his injuries.

Victor recognized him, his face full of surprise. "James? Is that you! You're back? You shouldn't have gotten involved. The people behind them..."

James patted his shoulder. "I don't care who's behind them. In New York, nobody can touch my friends. If there's more trouble, contact me anytime. Now tell me, about Emily coming to see you that day - do you remember any details?"

Victor's eyes dimmed as he shook his head. "That day she left in a hurry, just said she was meeting an old client, and then never came back... I've been searching for a long time too, but the trail went completely cold."

James's heart sank.

Even Victor didn't know?

Just then, Victor's phone vibrated.

It was Vito calling.

"James, we found it. Before that shipment of smuggled goods went missing, the last frequency signal pointed to a Chimera Collective location at the old port. That location is a freight company on the surface, but secretly it's their transfer station for storing illegal drugs. Do you need me to send Sal right away?"

"Got it. I can handle it myself."

James hung up, his eyes filled with killing intent.

Since there was nothing to gain from Victor, he'd go check out The Chimera Collective's place.

The Chimera Collective's freight company, underground warehouse.

Security here was tight, with mercenaries carrying automatic rifles everywhere.

James moved through the shadows like a ghost. His speed was so fast that even the security cameras couldn't catch his blur.

But he didn't expect anyone else to be here tonight.

Deep inside the location, in a large hall, a cold, stunning woman in a tight black leather outfit sat on a sofa, having just finished a cup of tea.

It's her!

Victor naturally recognized her - she was Shadow Syndicate's representative, Marjorie.

He'd dealt with her before on missions.

"Carlos, is this how The Chimera Collective treats guests?" Marjorie coldly glanced at the gunmen surrounding her.

Across from her, Carlos, the head of The Chimera Collective's location, lit a cigar with a cold smile on his face.

"Don't worry, Marjorie, they won't hurt you. But times have changed. Shadow Syndicate has dominated New York's assassination market for too long. I called you here to tell you that starting tonight, Shadow Syndicate either joins The Chimera Collective and becomes our hunting dogs, or disappears forever."

"Dream on!"

Marjorie stood up, flicking her wrists as two short daggers slid into her palms.

However, just as she was about to strike, her expression suddenly changed.

A wave of weakness quickly swept through her body. Her limbs became powerless, and even her heartbeat slowed down.

"You... you poisoned the tea?"

"Haha, not just poison."

Carlos sneered and clapped his hands.

The trusted subordinates behind Marjorie turned in unison, pointing their guns at the back of her head.

"You..."

Marjorie's beautiful eyes filled with shock and anger.

"Don't blame them. The price we offered is something Shadow Syndicate could never match."

Carlos stood up, reaching out to touch Marjorie's stunning face. "Shadow Syndicate's ice queen, I wonder if you'll still be so tough when you're begging in bed later? Sweetheart, guess what I'm going to do to you?"

"Idiot. My woman - you think you can touch her?"

An arrogant voice came from the dark door at the back of the hall.

A young man in a silver suit walked out slowly, his eyes sinister, his whole body radiating the kind of arrogance unique to the wealthy.

"Mr. Adams!"

Carlos immediately bowed and stepped aside, his attitude humble.

Owen, heir to the Dark Spirit Society.

He was the real mastermind behind tonight's events.

He walked up to Marjorie and lifted her chin with his fingernail, his face full of triumph. "Marjorie, I've been pursuing you for so long, but you always acted so high and mighty. Well, now your subordinates, your territory, even your life - they're all in my hands."

"You're despicable..."

Marjorie gritted her teeth, but the poison made it almost impossible for her to stand steady.

"Sweetheart, say what you want."

Owen yanked at Marjorie's collar. The fabric tore, exposing her ample chest.

"In New York's underworld, no one can save you. Tonight I'll show you what real despair is. I'll enjoy you right here. Don't worry, I'm very skilled, hahaha!"