The air inside the Zhao Syndicate's grand hall was thick with tension. The golden chandeliers cast long shadows, but none as dark as the man standing in the center of the room.
Ochieng didn't blink. He didn't flinch. He just waited.
Lucien Zhao swirled the wine in his glass, a sinister smirk playing on his lips. "You know, I admire you, Ochieng. A man who built his empire in silence… yet shakes the world louder than any of us."
Ochieng's voice was calm. "I'm not here for admiration, Lucien."
The room froze.
Lucien chuckled, but there was something unreadable in his eyes. "Then what are you here for?"
Ochieng took a step forward. "You know exactly what I'm here for."
The laughter died.
The room darkened.
The doors behind Ochieng suddenly slammed shut.
A dozen armed men stepped forward, guns raised.
Aiden Xu, still kneeling, let out a slow breath. He looked at Lucien, then at Ochieng. "You set him up."
Lucien leaned back, his smirk returning. "Set him up?" He chuckled. "No, Aiden. I'm simply eliminating a threat before it becomes a problem."
The safeties on the guns clicked.
Ochieng didn't move.
He didn't need to.
A second later—everything exploded into chaos.
BOOM!
The windows shattered. The chandeliers swung violently.
The guards turned—too late.
Ochieng moved like a shadow. Silent. Deadly. Unstoppable.
One. He twisted the wrist of the first gunman, shoving the barrel under his chin before pulling the trigger. A clean kill.
Two. He ducked under a knife, grabbed the attacker's throat, and snapped his neck with a single twist.
Three. He grabbed a fallen gun and fired two shots, dropping the next pair of men before they could even scream.
Lucien Zhao's smirk was gone.
Aiden Xu… was watching in awe.
Within seconds, the entire room was silent.
Ochieng stood among the bodies, wiping the blood off his sleeve.
Lucien slowly rose from his chair.
"You…" His voice was hoarse. "You're a demon."
Ochieng finally looked at him.
"No, Lucien." His voice was calm. I'm just the ghost you thought you buried."