Ochieng sat in the dimly lit chamber of The Black Pavilion, his fingers lightly drumming on the table. The five underworld figures in front of him were no ordinary criminals—they were the rulers of the city's shadows. Each of them controlled vast networks of assassins, spies, and merchants dealing in forbidden arts.
But Ochieng was unfazed. He had faced death too many times to fear it now.
The man with golden tattoos, known as Master Luo, leaned forward. "Tell me, Ochieng, what is it that you seek?"
Ochieng smirked. "Power."
The room grew silent.
The woman in crimson silk, Madame Wu, chuckled. "Power comes at a price. Are you willing to pay it?"
Ochieng's golden eyes gleamed. "I already have."
He stood, exuding an aura of authority that made even the most hardened criminals shift uncomfortably.
"Enough of this talk. The city is in chaos. You all know it." He swept his gaze across them. "The Red Scorpion Mafia, the Black Lotus Sect, and the Celestial Dragon Clan are all fighting for dominance. But none of them understand the real threat."
Master Luo raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?"
Ochieng smiled coldly. "Me."
Before the underworld leaders could respond, a loud knock echoed through the chamber. A masked servant entered, bowing deeply.
"A letter for the young master."
Ochieng took the letter and unfolded it slowly. The paper was marked with a blood-red seal—the symbol of the Celestial Dragon Clan.
He read the message aloud.
"Ochieng, if you truly believe yourself strong enough to walk this city, come to the Grand Arena at midnight. If you do not, we will tear apart every person you have ever cared for."
Madame Wu laughed. "Ah, the Celestial Dragon Clan. Arrogant as ever."
Master Luo stroked his beard. "You do realize it's a trap, don't you?"
Ochieng's smirk never faded. "Of course."
"Then what will you do?"
He folded the letter and slipped it into his pocket.
"I'll go."
The Grand Arena Showdown
Midnight arrived swiftly.
The Grand Arena was a colossal battleground, large enough to hold thousands of spectators. Torches flickered around the perimeter, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls.
In the center of the arena, a single throne stood, occupied by a man draped in royal blue robes. His presence alone sent shivers through the crowd.
Shen Tao.
The head of the Celestial Dragon Clan.
He smiled as Ochieng entered the arena, his voice echoing.
"You actually came."
Ochieng shrugged. "I was curious to see if you were as impressive as the rumors say."
Shen Tao chuckled. "And what do you think?"
Ochieng tilted his head. "I think you talk too much."
Shen Tao's smile faltered. "Bold words. Let's see if you can back them up."
He clapped his hands.
The ground trembled.
Dozens of warriors emerged from the shadows, their weapons gleaming. Elite assassins, each trained in the deadliest martial arts.
Ochieng didn't move. His expression remained calm, even as the assassins circled him like wolves.
Then—
He vanished.
One moment he was standing still. The next, he was a blur of movement.
Crack!
The first assassin dropped, his ribs shattered.
Boom!
A second was sent flying across the arena.
The crowd gasped. They had heard of Ochieng's strength—but seeing it was something else entirely.
Shen Tao's smile finally faded.
"You… you've grown stronger."
Ochieng wiped blood from his knuckles. "And I'm not done."
Shen Tao narrowed his eyes. "Then let's end this."
He leapt from his throne, his body glowing with an ancient aura.
Ochieng grinned. Now, the real fight began.