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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 51
A war wasn’t coming.It was already here.Jones barely had time to react before Clinton’s manipulated men lunged. The flickering lights of the underground chamber cast eerie shadows as chaos exploded in every direction. Jones dodged, rolling across the cold concrete as a fist nearly smashed into his skull.Leo tackled one of the turned men, his growl of rage echoing through the chamber. Derrick, still dazed from being restrained, barely managed to duck as a blade slashed where his ribs had been a second earlier.Clinton?Clinton just stood there, smirking.Jones gritted his teeth. This was entertainment to him. A final show before the real battle even began.Dre moved fast, his hesitation from before completely gone. He fought with brutal efficiency, his strikes methodical and lethal. He slammed one of Clinton’s men into the wall with a well-placed elbow, the crack of bone audible even over the chaos. But Jones wasn’t fooled.Dre had been turned once.He could be turned again.Jones c
The Brutal Revenge Chapter 52: Master of the Game
Beneath the City – Clinton’s Hideout.The candle had long since burned out, but Clinton didn’t need light to see the next steps. His mind was sharper in the dark. Shadows were where he thrived.Jones thought he had won.That was the beauty of it.Clinton leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. Across from him, Caleb waited, hands clasped behind his back like a soldier awaiting orders. Serena stood near the entrance, arms crossed, watching Clinton with that same knowing smirk she always had.“They’re settling in,” Serena murmured.“Good,” Clinton replied.“We should move now,” Caleb urged, stepping forward. “Before they reinforce. Before they suspect.”Clinton chuckled, slow and deliberate. “No, Caleb. We move when they least expect it. They think they’ve rebuilt Blackwood. They think they’ve won. That’s when you let them get comfortable. That’s when you study them.”He leaned forward, his grin widening. “And that’s when you break them.”Serena’s smirk deepe
Latest Chapter
Chapter 52: Master of the Game
Beneath the City – Clinton’s Hideout.The candle had long since burned out, but Clinton didn’t need light to see the next steps. His mind was sharper in the dark. Shadows were where he thrived.Jones thought he had won.That was the beauty of it.Clinton leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. Across from him, Caleb waited, hands clasped behind his back like a soldier awaiting orders. Serena stood near the entrance, arms crossed, watching Clinton with that same knowing smirk she always had.“They’re settling in,” Serena murmured.“Good,” Clinton replied.“We should move now,” Caleb urged, stepping forward. “Before they reinforce. Before they suspect.”Clinton chuckled, slow and deliberate. “No, Caleb. We move when they least expect it. They think they’ve rebuilt Blackwood. They think they’ve won. That’s when you let them get comfortable. That’s when you study them.”He leaned forward, his grin widening. “And that’s when you break them.”Serena’s smirk deepe
Chapter 51
A war wasn’t coming.It was already here.Jones barely had time to react before Clinton’s manipulated men lunged. The flickering lights of the underground chamber cast eerie shadows as chaos exploded in every direction. Jones dodged, rolling across the cold concrete as a fist nearly smashed into his skull.Leo tackled one of the turned men, his growl of rage echoing through the chamber. Derrick, still dazed from being restrained, barely managed to duck as a blade slashed where his ribs had been a second earlier.Clinton?Clinton just stood there, smirking.Jones gritted his teeth. This was entertainment to him. A final show before the real battle even began.Dre moved fast, his hesitation from before completely gone. He fought with brutal efficiency, his strikes methodical and lethal. He slammed one of Clinton’s men into the wall with a well-placed elbow, the crack of bone audible even over the chaos. But Jones wasn’t fooled.Dre had been turned once.He could be turned again.Jones c
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
