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Chapter_293
The scent of blood hung thick in the air, an iron tang that permeated the surroundings. Xeno and Finn stood in silence, their expressions unreadable, as the massacre unfolded around them. The Green Bamboo Association had never stood a chance against the great-grandmasters under the command of the Heavenly Martial Arts Order. It was a one-sided slaughter, swift and merciless.
Amid the chaos, Nash calmly retrieved his phone and dialed a number he knew well.
On the other end, Theo was sitting in his study, engrossed in a live broadcast of the events at Jonford’s Imperial Summer Manor. The ultra-high-definition stream, powered by a drone, gave him a front-row seat to the unfolding destruction. He had suspected Nash would have something up his sleeve, but he hadn’t anticipated the presence of the Heavenly Martial Arts Order scrolls—a power so devastating, it turned the tide of any battle.
When his phone rang, Theo picked it up, still watching the screen. “Nash…” he greeted, his voice steady.
“Where are the Young family members buried?” Nash asked, his tone businesslike, unaffected by the carnage around him.
“Gosh… I nearly forgot to tell you… The Young Family Village’s death anniversary is today… They’re all buried at the Young Gardens in Goldenfalls!” Theo replied quickly.
“Arrange for a helicopter to be flown to Imperial Summer Manor!” Nash instructed without hesitation.
“Alright, Nash. The helicopter will arrive in ten minutes!” Theo responded immediately, already dialing up Olivia to arrange for a helicopter from Drake Group.
As the night settled, it became clear that this would be no ordinary evening. Powerful families, underground organizations, and the shadows of power would not sleep tonight. The storm had only begun, and the ripples of its force would be felt far beyond the borders of Jonford.
Capiton City Hall.
Ninth floor.
At the top of the city’s power structure, Francis was summoned to Room 09. As he entered, he bumped into Tristan Campbell, a man from the Ministry of Diplomatic Security, who greeted him with a polite nod.
“Good day, Mr. Dunn!” Tristan greeted, though there was a hint of discomfort in his voice. It wasn’t easy addressing someone like Francis, a man younger than him but undoubtedly more powerful.
“Hi!” Francis acknowledged with a short nod before entering the office. He unstrapped the sword from his back and handed it to the guard, a routine as familiar to him as breathing.
The office was simple, unadorned—a reflection of the serious men who worked within its walls. At the center of the room, an imposing, square-jawed old man sat at a desk, staring intently at his computer screen. His graying hair, his sharp gaze—it was the face of someone who had seen far too much.
“Chief!” Francis and Tristan both saluted respectfully, acknowledging the weight of the office.
“Sit down!” The chief’s voice was firm, his presence commanding. The two men took their seats across from him, the air heavy with expectation.
The chief turned toward them, his eyes narrowed. “What are your thoughts on the Heavenly Martial Arts Order?”
Without hesitation, Francis responded, “They used a sledgehammer to crack a nut!”
The chief raised an eyebrow, momentarily stunned by the response, but then he continued. “**What I meant was… They killed over a thousand members of the Green Bamboo Association!” His voice was more contemplative now, the weight of the casualties evident in his words.
Tristan leaned forward, his voice calm but resolute. “The Green Bamboo Association has entrenched itself in Sagen for dozens of years. We should have dealt with them long ago. What happened tonight might just be a good thing.”
The chief leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “Over a thousand people died. But did they all deserve to die? Think of the thousand families who will be affected by this.” He fixed Francis and Tristan with a piercing gaze, each of them weighing the gravity of his words.
Both men lowered their heads, the weight of responsibility pressing down on them.
“Chief!” Francis spoke again, his voice low. “The Smiling Grim Reaper… He’s Wolfgang Young’s son!”
At those words, Tristan’s eyes widened, shock flashing across his face. “He’s a descendant of the Young family?”
Francis nodded, his expression grim. “He must have uncovered some clues about the Green Bamboo Association, which is why he moved so quickly to eliminate them.”
The chief’s fingers drummed thoughtfully against the arm of his chair. He was silent for a long moment before his brow furrowed. “If that’s the case, does this mean the end of the Klein family’s days are drawing closer?”
Francis shook his head slowly. “I haven’t even gotten a full picture of the Klein family’s operations yet.” His voice dropped, the weight of the situation sinking in. “The Master had suppressed their power once after the destruction of the Young family. Not too long ago, he flew out again to suppress them. I don’t know how long that suppression will last, but a family that requires such measures is not one to take lightly.”
The chief sighed heavily. “When will we ever see an end to this cycle of revenge?”
Francis looked up at him, a flicker of something in his eyes. “Let’s just hope that not too much damage has been done already.”
At the Klein household, senior members of the family gathered in the dead of night, their faces grim.
“**I can’t believe the Smiling Grim Reaper has the Heavenly Martial Arts Order!” The Klein patriarch muttered, his brow furrowed. “This complicates things.”
The Klein family’s young master spoke vehemently, his words full of resolve. “Grandpa… The Heavenly Martial Arts Order can only be used once. Let’s send our men out to avenge the Green Bamboo Association once the great-grandmasters leave!”
But the patriarch’s expression darkened further. “What if he has another Heavenly Martial Arts Order scroll? That would put the Klein family in a sticky situation where we’re doomed.”
With a slow exhale, he gave his final command. “Announce on my behalf that none of the Klein family grandmasters are to leave the castle. Everyone will focus on breaking the curse placed upon us. The day we break it is the day we unite all ten families!”
The stakes had never been higher. The Klein family was at a crossroads, and the choices made now would determine whether they would rise or fall in the coming storm.