The underground fight club was alive with chaos. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and money.
Ochieng stood in the center of the ring, rolling his shoulders, his presence alone enough to make the crowd hold its breath.
Across from him, his opponent—Dante "The Executioner"—was already trembling.
This wasn't just a fight.
This was a message.
The world thought Ochieng had disappeared.
Tonight, he was proving them wrong.
The bell rang.
Dante lunged first, a desperate swing aimed at Ochieng's jaw.
But Ochieng didn't move.
He didn't even flinch.
The punch connected—
But Dante was the one who staggered back.
Because Ochieng was made of something stronger. Something unbreakable.
And when he finally moved—
Dante never saw it coming.
A single hit.
A brutal, precise strike to the ribs.
The sound of bones cracking silenced the crowd.
Dante crumpled, gasping for air, his body refusing to move.
Ochieng stood over him, unbothered.
"Weak."
The fight was over.
But the war was just beginning.
--
In the tallest skyscraper of Emerald City, Kieran Blackwood poured himself a glass of whiskey.
Across from him, his younger brother, Lucas, grinned like a predator.
"You saw the fight?" Lucas asked.
Kieran exhaled, swirling his drink. "Of course."
Lucas leaned forward. "Then you know—Ochieng isn't here to play."
Kieran set his glass down. "That's fine. Because neither am I."
The Blackwood family had ruled this city for too long to let a ghost from the past take control.
But Ochieng wasn't just a ghost.
He was the storm they never saw coming.
And now—
It was too late to stop him.
---
At the university, Serena sat in class, her fingers gripping her notebook.
She wasn't paying attention to the lecture.
How could she?
Her mind was full of him.
Her professor.
Her obsession.
Ochieng.
She could still feel his presence from last night. His voice had sent shivers down her spine.
And now—
She wanted more.
Even though she shouldn't.
Even though it was wrong.
Even though she knew that if she let herself fall—
She would never escape him.
And maybe—
She didn't want to.
---
Ochieng sat in a dimly lit penthouse, a glass of red wine in his hand.
Across from him, an old enemy sat stiffly, his hands clasped.
"We don't have to do this, Ochieng," the man said.
Ochieng took a slow sip. "No, we don't."
The man relaxed for half a second.
Then—
Ochieng set his glass down.
"But I want to."
A gunshot rang out.
And just like that—
A piece of Emerald City now belonged to him.
The war had begun.
And Ochieng?
He was just getting started.
--