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The Brutal Revenge Chapter 43: The Ambush
The air in Blackwood College was thick with tension, the kind that settles deep in the bones like the calm before a thunderstorm. The abandoned halls stretched like veins in a dying beast, silent and waiting for blood to be spilled.Jones crouched low against a crumbling column, gripping the cold steel of his knife. Across from him, Lexi, Dre, and Victor were poised, their breaths shallow, their eyes locked on their target.Calhoun.The behemoth stood in the middle of the old assembly hall, a battlefield carved out of history. He was a storm in himself—massive, unshaken, unbreakable. His men fanned out around him, oblivious to the noose tightening around their necks.Jones exhaled slowly. Showtime.He tapped the radio mic clipped to his collar, his voice a whisper in the darkness."Phase one. Execute."Plan A: The TrapFrom the shadows, Jasmine and Kayla struck first.A deafening boom ripped through the hall as pre-planted charges detonated, sending a cascade of debris crashing down t
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 44: The Fall of a Giant
Jones’ breath was ragged, his ribs screaming in protest as he pushed himself up from the rubble-strewn floor. Blood trickled from his temple, blurring his vision. Clinton’s gun was still aimed at his head, the smirk on his face one of pure control."Game over," Clinton said again, voice laced with satisfaction.Jones wiped the blood from his lip and grinned. "You keep saying that."Then, all hell broke loose.A flash of movement.Lexi struck first, a dagger flying from her hand. Clinton swayed at the last second, the blade slicing just past his cheek, leaving a thin red line. He cursed, firing a shot—but Lexi was already rolling away, vanishing into the smoke.Jones didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, slamming into Calhoun before he could fully recover from the last blow. They crashed to the ground, Jones’ knife aiming for the giant’s throat.Calhoun caught his wrist mid-air.Their eyes met—pure hatred burning between them.With a snarl, Calhoun twisted, flipping them both. Jones bare
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 45: The Counterstrike
The dust had barely settled, but Jones’ mind was already racing. Clinton had escaped, but he wasn’t gone. Not for long.He turned to his crew—Lexi, Dre, Victor, Leo, Jasmine, and the others—fifteen in total, all battered and bloodied, but their eyes still burned with resolve. The battlefield was theirs for now, but Clinton had made his move. He had vanished into the night, and Jones knew exactly what that meant.A strategic regroup. A counterstrike.Jones tapped his earpiece. “Leo, track Clinton. We need to know where he’s heading.”Leo, crouched over a downed enemy, wiped blood from his knuckles. “Already working on it.” He pulled a small device from his pocket, tapping rapidly. “He’s not going far. His people are still moving in the city. If I had to bet, he’s regrouping at one of his hideouts.”Jones turned to Dre. “How bad are we on supplies?”Dre exhaled. “Low on ammo. We’ve taken hits, but nothing fatal. We can still fight.”Jones nodded. “Good. Because this isn’t over.”His gri
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 46: The Illusion of Victory
The gunshot cracked through the night.Jones twisted just in time. The bullet grazed his ear instead of blowing his head off. Pain flared, sharp and searing, but he moved fast. His elbow slammed into Clinton’s ribs, forcing him to stumble back.Gunfire still roared around them. The half-built construction site was a battlefield of chaos—screams, bullets, the clash of steel against steel.Clinton recovered fast, raising his pistol again. Jones didn't give him the chance. He lunged, gripping Clinton’s wrist, forcing the gun upward as another shot fired wildly into the sky.Clinton snarled, eyes burning. “You’re persistent.”Jones gritted his teeth, muscles straining against Clinton’s strength. “And you’re done running.”He twisted, slamming Clinton’s hand into a nearby steel beam. The gun clattered to the ground.Clinton didn't hesitate. He drove a knee into Jones' stomach, then followed up with a ruthless punch to his jaw. Jones stumbled back, vision blurring for half a second. It was
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 1: The Return of Jones
The towering gates of Blackwood College loomed before Jones as a reminder of his past humiliation. A year ago, he had ruled these grounds, his name whispered with a mix of fear and respect. But all of that had been stripped away the night Clinton and his crew took everything from him. They thought they had buried him. They were wrong. A cold breeze brushed against his face as he stepped forward, his boots pressing against the familiar pavement. His black hoodie concealed most of his face, but it couldn’t hide the fire in his eyes. The moment he crossed the threshold, heads turned. Conversations died. The weight of a hundred stares settled on him. "No way…" "Jones? I thought he was gone for good." "He looks different… colder." Jones barely acknowledged the murmurs. Let them talk. Let them remember. They had stood by when Clinton humiliated him. They had watched him bleed. Now, they would witness his return. He didn’t come back for nostalgia. He came back for war. Hi
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 2: The Rise of Jones
The streets pulsed with raw energy, a battlefield disguised as a city. The college wasn’t a place of learning. it was a war zone, where power ruled and only the ruthless survived. Jones moved with purpose, his every step calculated, his every breath measured. He wasn’t just here to fight. He was here to take over.For too long, Clinton had reigned supreme, his empire built on intimidation and blood. But Jones wasn’t another pawn in his game. He was the one flipping the board.The Reapers had been making waves for months—fast, efficient, and unrelenting. Clinton’s gang had the numbers, but Jones had something more lethal: strategy. This wasn’t a war of brute force. It was a war of patience, intelligence, and precision. Clinton didn’t know it yet, but his downfall had already begun.As Jones walked through the heart of the campus, whispers followed him. Fear lingered in the air like smoke. Eyes darted away when he passed. He had earned that fear, and soon, he’d turn it into obedience."
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 3: The Reckoning beginning
The hallways of the college were eerily silent, the kind of quiet that carried tension rather than peace. Jones stood near the entrance, his back against the cold wall, eyes scanning the dark corridor. Every shadow felt like a threat, every sound a warning. It had been days since the first confrontation, and the war was reaching its breaking point.Trust was a fragile thing. Jones had learned that the hard way. The past few days had only confirmed his suspicion—alliances could shatter in an instant, and enemies were never as far away as they seemed.A voice echoed down the hallway."Jones, you here?"Lisa.Jones pushed himself off the wall as she jogged toward him, her expression tight with urgency."We’ve got a problem," she said, slightly breathless. "Clinton’s making moves. He’s trying to rally the other groups, and he’s got some of the higher-ups in his pocket. He’s calling a meeting tomorrow, this is bad."Jones clenched his jaw. Of course, Clinton was ahead, twisting the game in
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 4: The Power Play
Jones sat in the dimly lit dorm room, his fingers drumming against the wooden desk. The air was thick with the scent of stale beer and the faint traces of sweat, remnants of last night’s victory. The bruises on his knuckles still throbbed, a painful reminder that the fight was far from over.His crew was restless, the tension crackling like static in the air. Victory didn’t bring peace, only the promise of retaliation."Clinton won’t let this slide," Leo muttered, his voice tight with unease. He stood near the window, his grip firm on a steel baton. His eyes were sharp, scanning the darkness outside like he expected an ambush at any moment.Jones exhaled slowly, rubbing a bruise on his jaw. "I don’t expect him to. That bastard thrives on control. He’ll retaliate, and we need to be ready."A knock at the door cut through the silence. The room went still.Leo moved first, yanking the door open just enough to see who was outside. A folded piece of paper was shoved through the gap before
Latest Chapter
Chapter 46: The Illusion of Victory
The gunshot cracked through the night.Jones twisted just in time. The bullet grazed his ear instead of blowing his head off. Pain flared, sharp and searing, but he moved fast. His elbow slammed into Clinton’s ribs, forcing him to stumble back.Gunfire still roared around them. The half-built construction site was a battlefield of chaos—screams, bullets, the clash of steel against steel.Clinton recovered fast, raising his pistol again. Jones didn't give him the chance. He lunged, gripping Clinton’s wrist, forcing the gun upward as another shot fired wildly into the sky.Clinton snarled, eyes burning. “You’re persistent.”Jones gritted his teeth, muscles straining against Clinton’s strength. “And you’re done running.”He twisted, slamming Clinton’s hand into a nearby steel beam. The gun clattered to the ground.Clinton didn't hesitate. He drove a knee into Jones' stomach, then followed up with a ruthless punch to his jaw. Jones stumbled back, vision blurring for half a second. It was
Chapter 45: The Counterstrike
The dust had barely settled, but Jones’ mind was already racing. Clinton had escaped, but he wasn’t gone. Not for long.He turned to his crew—Lexi, Dre, Victor, Leo, Jasmine, and the others—fifteen in total, all battered and bloodied, but their eyes still burned with resolve. The battlefield was theirs for now, but Clinton had made his move. He had vanished into the night, and Jones knew exactly what that meant.A strategic regroup. A counterstrike.Jones tapped his earpiece. “Leo, track Clinton. We need to know where he’s heading.”Leo, crouched over a downed enemy, wiped blood from his knuckles. “Already working on it.” He pulled a small device from his pocket, tapping rapidly. “He’s not going far. His people are still moving in the city. If I had to bet, he’s regrouping at one of his hideouts.”Jones turned to Dre. “How bad are we on supplies?”Dre exhaled. “Low on ammo. We’ve taken hits, but nothing fatal. We can still fight.”Jones nodded. “Good. Because this isn’t over.”His gri
Chapter 44: The Fall of a Giant
Jones’ breath was ragged, his ribs screaming in protest as he pushed himself up from the rubble-strewn floor. Blood trickled from his temple, blurring his vision. Clinton’s gun was still aimed at his head, the smirk on his face one of pure control."Game over," Clinton said again, voice laced with satisfaction.Jones wiped the blood from his lip and grinned. "You keep saying that."Then, all hell broke loose.A flash of movement.Lexi struck first, a dagger flying from her hand. Clinton swayed at the last second, the blade slicing just past his cheek, leaving a thin red line. He cursed, firing a shot—but Lexi was already rolling away, vanishing into the smoke.Jones didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, slamming into Calhoun before he could fully recover from the last blow. They crashed to the ground, Jones’ knife aiming for the giant’s throat.Calhoun caught his wrist mid-air.Their eyes met—pure hatred burning between them.With a snarl, Calhoun twisted, flipping them both. Jones bare
Chapter 43: The Ambush
The air in Blackwood College was thick with tension, the kind that settles deep in the bones like the calm before a thunderstorm. The abandoned halls stretched like veins in a dying beast, silent and waiting for blood to be spilled.Jones crouched low against a crumbling column, gripping the cold steel of his knife. Across from him, Lexi, Dre, and Victor were poised, their breaths shallow, their eyes locked on their target.Calhoun.The behemoth stood in the middle of the old assembly hall, a battlefield carved out of history. He was a storm in himself—massive, unshaken, unbreakable. His men fanned out around him, oblivious to the noose tightening around their necks.Jones exhaled slowly. Showtime.He tapped the radio mic clipped to his collar, his voice a whisper in the darkness."Phase one. Execute."Plan A: The TrapFrom the shadows, Jasmine and Kayla struck first.A deafening boom ripped through the hall as pre-planted charges detonated, sending a cascade of debris crashing down t
Chapter 42: The War Council
Jones’ lungs burned as they sprinted into the night. Every breath came ragged, each step dragging his aching body closer to their only chance at survival.Blackwood College sprawled ahead—silent, eerie, a battlefield waiting to be claimed.Jones didn’t hesitate. “Inside. Now.”Dre shoved open the rusted doors of the abandoned library, its grand walls now draped in dust and decay. The group staggered in, barely holding themselves together. Blood dripped, breaths hitched, but they weren’t done.Not yet.Jones turned, locking eyes with Riley, Kayla, and Dre. “We call them. All of them.”Kayla, still clutching her ribs, frowned. “You sure?”“No other choice,” he said, voice like steel. “We either stand together—or we fall.”He grabbed the emergency radio from his jacket, twisting the frequency dial.Static crackled.Then—“Jones?” A voice, sharp and clear.Leo.Jones exhaled, tension easing. “It’s time. Get everyone. Blackwood Library. Now.”No hesitation. “We’re coming.”The radio buzzed
Chapter 41: Into the Abyss
The air reeked of dust and blood. Rubble shifted as the monstrous hand clawed free, debris tumbling down in jagged shards. Calhoun’s fingers flexed—bones snapped back into place with sickening cracks. His bloodied face emerged from the wreckage, eyes glowing with cold, animalistic rage.Jones’ breath hitched.He’s still moving.Behind him, Clinton’s slow, taunting applause sent a chill through his spine.“Bravo,” Clinton mused. “I must say, Jones, you never fail to entertain.”Jones ignored him. Focus.“Everyone, MOVE!” Jones barked, shoving Riley toward the ruins.Kayla gritted her teeth. Dre was already limping, clutching his ribs. Riley wiped blood from her forehead, but her stance was firm.Yet, none of them were ready for what came next.Calhoun lunged.Jones barely had time to move before a brutal fist slammed into his chest.CRACK.Jones flew backward, skidding across the pavement. Pain exploded in his ribs, breath torn from his lungs. His vision swam. He forced himself up—just
Chapter 40: The Unchained War
The night was thick with tension. The kind that coiled in the air like a storm waiting to break. The moon hung low over Blackwood College, casting elongated shadows across the abandoned dormitories and the cracked pavement of the courtyard. Every breath Jones took felt heavier, thick with anticipation. Tonight, they either took Clinton down, or they lost everything.He crouched behind a crumbling stone bench, Riley at his side, her knuckles white against the handle of her knife. Ahead of them, across the darkened grounds, Kayla and Dre moved like ghosts, sticking to the shadows as they prepared the first phase of the plan—Misdirection.Step One: MisdirectionThe first explosion wasn’t real.Jones had made sure of that.A fireball erupted from the south dormitories, followed by the deafening crack of an incendiary charge. Thick black smoke billowed into the sky, painting the night with chaos. The perfect illusion.Seconds later, the sound of pounding boots echoed through the college as
Chapter 39: Mastermind's Gambit
Jones woke up to pain. A dull, throbbing agony that radiated from his ribs, his jaw, his knuckles. His body felt like it had been run over by a truck—no, by Calhoun.But he was alive.Barely.He blinked against the harsh light, his vision swimming. A broken ceiling fan spun lazily above him, the rusted metal groaning with every turn. The air smelled of dust, old leather, and something metallic—blood. His own.A shadow moved beside him.“Jones,” Riley’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You with me?”He turned his head slightly. Riley was crouched beside him, her face streaked with dirt and dried blood. Her eyes, though tired, burned with something fierce. Determination.Across the room, Kayla was pressing a torn cloth to Jace’s shoulder, whispering something he was too weak to respond to. Dre was slumped against a crate, his breathing shallow but steady.They had all barely survived.And Clinton was still out there.Jones exhaled slowly, shifting, forcing himself to sit up de
Chapter 38: The Unstoppable Monster
Jones’ skull throbbed, his vision blurred as he lay sprawled on the hood of a wrecked car. Blood dripped from his mouth, pooling on the rusted metal. His fingers twitched toward his knife, but his wrist was still numb from Calhoun’s crushing grip.Across the battlefield, his team was barely holding on. Jace was slumped against the ground, barely breathing. Kayla’s body twitched near the wreckage, her rifle lying useless beside her. Dre was on his knees, one arm cradling his ribs. Riley staggered forward, gripping a steel pipe with shaking hands.And towering above them all—Calhoun.The monster rolled his shoulders, the firelight dancing across his broad frame. He wasn’t just a fighter. He was a force of nature. His massive silhouette barely had a scratch from all their attacks.Behind him, leaning against a wrecked car, sipping whiskey as if this were a casual game, was Clinton.The bastard chuckled, swirling his drink. “I have to say, Jones… I expected more.” He took a slow sip, his
