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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 47: The Art of Deception
Clinton leaned back against the cold concrete wall of his underground hideout, his fingers pressing against the wound on his arm. Blood oozed between his fingers, but the pain barely registered. His mind was already calculating, shifting the pieces of the game.Blackwood College wasn't lost.Not yet.He had expected Jones to come at him hard. Expected his empire to crumble under the weight of that final battle. But what Jones didn’t know—what none of them knew—was that Clinton never played a game he wasn’t ready to lose.Because a man who prepared for defeat?Could never truly be beaten.His remaining men stood in front of him, some wounded, some exhausted, but all loyal. They had watched their forces fall, their strongholds burn. But in their eyes, he still saw belief.Belief that he would turn this around.Clinton’s lips curved into a slow smirk as he stepped forward.“Listen up,” he said, voice sharp as steel. “Jones and his crew think they’ve won. They think Blackwood belongs to t
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 48: The Fall That Wasn't
The explosion tore through the east wing of Blackwood College, shaking the very foundation of the battlefield. Smoke and fire erupted, swallowing the air with an acrid stench. Shattered glass and burning wood rained down like a storm, obscuring the chaos unfolding beneath it.Through the thick haze, Jones surged forward, his crew right behind him, weapons drawn, their determination set in stone.This was it.The final battle.And he was ready to end Clinton for good.On the other side of the field, Clinton stood tall despite the destruction around him. His forces, battered and bleeding, formed a tight line behind him, outnumbered and overwhelmed. The weight of war clung to them, their muscles stiff from exhaustion. Yet, in Clinton’s eyes, there was no fear.No regret.Just a glint of something Jones couldn’t place.Something that made his gut tighten.Jones took a step forward, his voice cutting through the smoke.“You should’ve stayed gone, Clinton.”Clinton dusted off his shoulders
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 49: The Silent Conspiracy
Jones stood in the ruined halls of Blackwood College, staring at the blank screen where Clinton had just taunted him. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and gunpowder. His grip on his gun tightened.He had won.Hadn’t he?His crew was securing the college, sweeping every corridor, making sure Clinton’s forces had either surrendered or were eliminated. But something didn’t sit right.Clinton had been smiling.Not the smile of a man who had lost.The smile of a man who had already won.Jones exhaled, forcing his shoulders to relax. He had to be overthinking it. Clinton was beaten. His people were scattered. Blackwood belonged to him now.Then why did it feel like he was standing in a minefield, waiting for the next explosion?Leo’s voice crackled through the radio.“Boss, east wing secured. No sign of Clinton.”“Keep looking,” Jones ordered. “Lock everything down. If he’s hiding, I want him found.”He clipped the radio back onto his belt and turned toward the main hall.That was
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 50: The Silent Takeover
Jones paced the ruined halls of Blackwood College, his mind a battlefield of unanswered questions. The weight of recent disappearances pressed against his chest like a vice. Derrick was gone. Leo was gone. Dre had returned, but he might as well have been a ghost, lost in a haze of missing time and fear.The silence was heavier than the gunfire that had once ripped through these halls. It wasn’t the silence of peace. It was the silence before something unspeakable.Lexi stood at the far end of the hall, her arms crossed, eyes sharp with worry. “Boss, this isn’t a coincidence,” she said, voice low.Jones nodded. “I know.”But knowing wasn’t enough.Clinton was still playing the game. The problem was—Jones didn’t know what the game was.And that terrified him.Clinton stood in the underground surveillance chamber, his fingers gliding over a rusted keyboard. The glow from the monitors illuminated his smirk as he watched Jones through flickering screens.The fool still thought he was in co
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
Latest Chapter
Chapter 50: The Silent Takeover
Jones paced the ruined halls of Blackwood College, his mind a battlefield of unanswered questions. The weight of recent disappearances pressed against his chest like a vice. Derrick was gone. Leo was gone. Dre had returned, but he might as well have been a ghost, lost in a haze of missing time and fear.The silence was heavier than the gunfire that had once ripped through these halls. It wasn’t the silence of peace. It was the silence before something unspeakable.Lexi stood at the far end of the hall, her arms crossed, eyes sharp with worry. “Boss, this isn’t a coincidence,” she said, voice low.Jones nodded. “I know.”But knowing wasn’t enough.Clinton was still playing the game. The problem was—Jones didn’t know what the game was.And that terrified him.Clinton stood in the underground surveillance chamber, his fingers gliding over a rusted keyboard. The glow from the monitors illuminated his smirk as he watched Jones through flickering screens.The fool still thought he was in co
Chapter 49: The Silent Conspiracy
Jones stood in the ruined halls of Blackwood College, staring at the blank screen where Clinton had just taunted him. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and gunpowder. His grip on his gun tightened.He had won.Hadn’t he?His crew was securing the college, sweeping every corridor, making sure Clinton’s forces had either surrendered or were eliminated. But something didn’t sit right.Clinton had been smiling.Not the smile of a man who had lost.The smile of a man who had already won.Jones exhaled, forcing his shoulders to relax. He had to be overthinking it. Clinton was beaten. His people were scattered. Blackwood belonged to him now.Then why did it feel like he was standing in a minefield, waiting for the next explosion?Leo’s voice crackled through the radio.“Boss, east wing secured. No sign of Clinton.”“Keep looking,” Jones ordered. “Lock everything down. If he’s hiding, I want him found.”He clipped the radio back onto his belt and turned toward the main hall.That was
Chapter 48: The Fall That Wasn't
The explosion tore through the east wing of Blackwood College, shaking the very foundation of the battlefield. Smoke and fire erupted, swallowing the air with an acrid stench. Shattered glass and burning wood rained down like a storm, obscuring the chaos unfolding beneath it.Through the thick haze, Jones surged forward, his crew right behind him, weapons drawn, their determination set in stone.This was it.The final battle.And he was ready to end Clinton for good.On the other side of the field, Clinton stood tall despite the destruction around him. His forces, battered and bleeding, formed a tight line behind him, outnumbered and overwhelmed. The weight of war clung to them, their muscles stiff from exhaustion. Yet, in Clinton’s eyes, there was no fear.No regret.Just a glint of something Jones couldn’t place.Something that made his gut tighten.Jones took a step forward, his voice cutting through the smoke.“You should’ve stayed gone, Clinton.”Clinton dusted off his shoulders
Chapter 47: The Art of Deception
Clinton leaned back against the cold concrete wall of his underground hideout, his fingers pressing against the wound on his arm. Blood oozed between his fingers, but the pain barely registered. His mind was already calculating, shifting the pieces of the game.Blackwood College wasn't lost.Not yet.He had expected Jones to come at him hard. Expected his empire to crumble under the weight of that final battle. But what Jones didn’t know—what none of them knew—was that Clinton never played a game he wasn’t ready to lose.Because a man who prepared for defeat?Could never truly be beaten.His remaining men stood in front of him, some wounded, some exhausted, but all loyal. They had watched their forces fall, their strongholds burn. But in their eyes, he still saw belief.Belief that he would turn this around.Clinton’s lips curved into a slow smirk as he stepped forward.“Listen up,” he said, voice sharp as steel. “Jones and his crew think they’ve won. They think Blackwood belongs to t
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
