The acrid scent of clay hung thick in the air, a miasma interwoven with the faint tang of fear. Xander, his fists clenched, couldn't stand there any longer, a caged beast watching his prey chant insults. The man, a hulking form, stood by the racks, his gaze fixed on Xander, but his eyes, darting nervously, betrayed his vigilance. He was a watchman, a sentinel, placed there by the dragon group, the shadowy organization that had snatched his fiancée, Lina.Xander's anger was a roaring furnace within him, fueled by a desperation that gnawed at his sanity. He had tracked them, followed the slithering trail of clues, leading him to this ramshackle pottery shop, a facade cloaking a dark secret.With a roar, Xander lunged, a blur of fury. His fist connected with the man's jaw with the force of a battering ram, sending the watchman reeling backward. He crashed against the wall, but before he could find his footing, Xander was upon him again, his grip like a vise.'Now,' Xander growled, his vo
The oppressive weight of the iron door, thick as a tomb slab, pressed against Tobias's heart, a physical manifestation of the fear that had begun to gnaw at him. His mind, usually so sharp and calculating, was starting to scramble, his carefully constructed plan unravelling. He had anticipated every possible contingency, every threat, yet here stood Xander, a whirlwind of fury and determination, ready to shatter the illusion of Tobias's absolute control.A sickening thud echoed through the chamber, the sound of a man's body collapsing against the unyielding stone floor. Tobias's grip tightened on Lina's hand, his fingers sinking into her soft flesh, the pain a distant, irrelevant sensation. The man, a loyal soldier, had been a mere pawn in Tobias's grand scheme, a sacrifice to buy him precious seconds – seconds he was now desperately clinging to.He watched, frozen, through the intricate screen set into the door, as Xander, his face a mask of raw fury, gathered the raw power of the ri
The dimly lit room, once a den of gambling and illicit pleasure, was now a battleground painted in crimson and laced with the groans of the fallen. Xander, a whirlwind of fury and determination, moved through the chaos with the grace of a predator. His movements, a blur of fists and feet, were a symphony of violence, each strike delivered with the precision of a well-oiled machine. He fought like a man possessed, fueled by a primal rage that defied description.His opponents, initially a horde of thugs, were now a scattered, demoralized mob. Their bravado had evaporated like mist under the unforgiving glare of the sun. They stood frozen, their faces etched with a mixture of terror and disbelief. Some lay sprawled on the floor, their bodies contorted in ungodly positions, silent testaments to Xander's relentless assault. He danced around them, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light, his muscles taut with coiled energy, a predator circling its prey.The air crackled with an electric t
The cellar, once a dank and shadowed space, had become a crucible of raw magic and chilling fear. The air hung heavy with the lingering scent of burnt flesh and ozone, a silent testament to the fiery ball unleashed by Scarface, lieutenant of the Dragon Group. Everyone present, with the exception of Xander, had braced for a gruesome spectacle. They envisioned a scene of charred flesh and bone, the young man reduced to nothing more than a smouldering husk. Instead, they were met with a stillness that felt almost unnatural, a quiet defiance that spoke volumes.Xander stood amidst the wreckage, his clothes unmarred, his face serene. A soft smile played on his lips, a smile that held a hint of victory, of an inner knowledge that was unsettling in its calmness. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the ragged gasps of those who had witnessed this impossible display of immunity. Even Scarface, his face still contorted with a mixture of disbelief and rage, faltered, his eyes fixed on the
The rage that had been simmering within Xander for years finally boiled over. A raw, primal hunger for vengeance consumed him, leaving no room for reason or caution. He watched as Tobias, his face contorted with smug disdain, casually tossed Lina aside as if she were a discarded rag doll. The movement was a spark igniting the inferno within him, fueling a fury that had no bounds.“Tobias,” Xander snarled, the word heavy with unspoken threats. His body, taut with pent-up energy, launched itself forward like a guided missile, aimed directly at Tobias. The air crackled with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the thudding of his own heartbeat. He saw Tobias, his eyes widening in alarm as the inevitable collision drew near, raise his hands in a futile attempt to ward off the assault. The impact was brutal, a sickening crunch as their bodies collided with the force of a battering ram. They went down hard, the ground groaning beneath their combined weight.It was a dance of pure fe
The rage that had been simmering inside Xander since the first encounter with Scarface, the man with a face etched with cruel scars, bubbled over. The scene in the cellar replayed in his mind – the fear in Lina’s eyes, the taunts of Scarface, the taste of his own blood, the desperate fight against the Dragon Group. But then, the words of the old man, his mentor, echoed in his mind. The old man had said, 'Sometimes, forgiveness is the hardest choice, yet the strongest. It lets the poison go, not just for them, but for you too.'Xander turned to Lina, who was still trembling, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief. He knelt before her, his gaze lingering on the bruises that dotted her arms and the scratch on her cheek, his heart a knot of anger and concern. He wanted to tear Scarface limb from limb, to punish him for the pain he had inflicted on her, on him. Yet, the old man’s words resonated, a soothing balm on his burning rage.“I’ll let him live,” Xander said, his voice hoarse with th
Xander sat awkwardly on the plush armchair, its soft cushions offering little comfort. Across from him, Mr. James, a man whose face usually held a gloomy expression, sat with his shoulders slumped and a worried frown etched on his brow.'Where is Lina?' Mr. James finally asked, his voice a low rumble.'She's resting,' Xander replied, his voice tight with worry. 'The poor girl had suffered too much.'He couldn't bring himself to say more, not after the past few weeks. The events had been a whirlwind of betrayal, pain, and a chilling realization of the true depths of the Dragon Group's influence.Mr. James, as if sensing Xander's feelings, leaned back in his chair and sighed. 'It's all my fault,' he whispered, his eyes flickering to the floor. 'If I hadn't joined the Dragon Group, none of this would have happened.' He looked at Xander, his face breaking into a heart-wrenching expression of regret. 'I was so naive. I thought they were just a business group, a powerful engine of progress.
The warm morning air carried the scent of jasmine and wisteria, a sweet, heady fragrance that danced around Xander as he stood on the balcony with Lina. He held her hand, her fingers slender and cool against his palm, and his gaze swept across the bustling city below. The vibrant lights of the city throbbed like a giant, pulsing heart, a constant reminder of the life he had built, the life he was about to build with Lina.The ring, a band of polished silver etched with intricate symbols, sat comfortably on his finger. It was the ring that had shielded him from harm, the ring that had made him feel untouchable, a beacon of power that he could draw on. The ring was a constant reminder of his escape, his journey from a humble, forgotten corner of the city to the heart of its power, a rise that was as unlikely as it was exhilarating.But as he watched the twinkling lights and felt Lina's closeness, he felt a different kind of power, a warmth that spread through him like a gentle flame. It