The night unfolded like a grand symphony, each movement orchestrated to perfection. The elite forces of the underworld had no idea their reign was about to crumble.
Ochieng sat in the backseat of his customized Maybach Exelero, the number plate reading O-888, a symbol of boundless fortune and dominance. The car hummed through the quiet streets, its presence exuding an air of mystery. The eight provinces were about to bow to a ghost they thought they had erased.
Inside the car, Jeff drove silently, while Wendy and Linet sat opposite Ochieng. The glow from the city lights cast haunting shadows across their faces.
Wendy smirked, "The Phantom Clans won't see this coming."
Ochieng's fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest. "That's the point." His tone was soft, yet it carried the weight of an execution order.
The first stop—Silver Crest Hotel.
It was the stronghold of the Yun Clan, rulers of the financial underworld. A grand birthday gala was in full swing. VIPs, business moguls, underground lords—all gathered under one roof, oblivious to their approaching doom.
Ochieng stepped out of the Maybach, adjusting the black onyx cufflinks on his deep navy-blue silk suit. He looked no different from the elites attending the event, yet his presence alone sent chills through the air.
The red carpet welcomed him, cameras flashing as if trying to capture a phantom. Beside him, Linet, draped in an emerald qipao with gold phoenix embroidery, held onto his arm gracefully. Her mere presence was enough to stun the guests into silence.
A young businessman scoffed, "Who is he? I don't recognize him."
A nearby woman, her breath caught in her throat, whispered, "That's Ochieng…"
Silence.
The name carried weight. Though few in the public eye knew him, those who did never spoke of him lightly.
Inside the ballroom, the Yun Clan's eldest son, Yun Cheng, stood at the center, raising a glass of aged Qinglong wine. Unaware that tonight was his last toast as a ruler.
Ochieng walked towards him, his every step echoing like a countdown to disaster. Yun Cheng's smirk faltered when he saw him approach.
"Who invited you?" Yun Cheng sneered.
Ochieng reached for a glass of wine from a passing waiter and swirled it lazily. "I invited myself."
A deadly hush fell over the ballroom. The game had begun.