Chapter 8

Falcon pulled out his combat knife, ready to give chase.

Damien raised his hand to stop him. "Don't bother. He's going back for backup. Pass the word—everyone assemble. Target: the Ford Manor. Tonight, I want the Ford family completely wiped off the face of this earth."

Half an hour later, on the outskirts of San Francisco, the Ford Manor.

This was a sprawling private estate. High-voltage electric fencing ran along the top of the towering walls. The main gate was shut tight. Heavy machine guns were mounted at several high points on the walls, and searchlights swept back and forth across the road outside.

Over a dozen black SUVs pulled to a stop at the end of the road.

Damien stepped out of the vehicle, followed by a hundred Iron Bear assassins and a hundred Eagle special forces soldiers. Two hundred men, fully armed and primed to kill.

"Frontal assault," Damien ordered.

Two Eagle soldiers hoisted rocket launchers onto their shoulders, aiming at the manor gates.

Two rockets, blazing through the air, struck the manor gates dead-on.

Alarms blared throughout the estate.

The heavy machine guns on the walls opened fire.

Damien was a blur as he charged into the manor, moving so fast the machine gun fire couldn't track him.

He leaped off a wrecked car, vaulted over the ten-foot wall, his combat knife flashing out to slice open a gunner's throat.

Then he seized the heavy machine gun, swung it around, and squeezed the trigger, firing into the bodyguard positions inside the manor.

The Ford family's bodyguards fell in droves.

The Iron Bear and Eagle members surged into the manor. This was a one-sided massacre.

Though the Ford family's bodyguards fought fearlessly, their prized combat skills and marksmanship were a joke against S-rank assassins.

In less than ten minutes, the outer defenses were crushed, bodies littering the manicured lawns.

Damien walked toward the main building at the center of the manor, his combat knife dripping with blood.

The doors stood open, the hall brightly lit inside.

Paxton sat in a chair in the middle of the hall. Beside him stood the last fifty Ford family death warriors. Boxes of C4 explosives were piled in the corners of the hall. Paxton held a detonator.

Damien stepped into the hall, his leather shoes muffled by the carpet.

"Damien, the newly appointed Supreme King of the assassin organization," Paxton said, looking at Damien.

Damien stopped, his gaze sweeping over the explosives.

"This is your trump card?" Damien asked, his voice cold.

"I know these bodyguards can't kill you. There's a ton of C4 here. If I press this button, nothing will survive within fifteen hundred feet. No matter how strong you are, can you survive that?" Paxton raised the detonator.

Paxton stood up, his eyes bloodshot.

"You've destroyed everything I had. Today, we die together. Though the Ford family ends with me, Celestial Temple will never let you go."

Paxton let out a roar and slammed his thumb down on the red button.

The red light flashed.

The instant he pressed the button, Damien moved—but he didn't charge forward. Instead, he shoved off with both feet and launched himself backward.

A massive explosion ripped through the roof. The surrounding walls collapsed instantly, burying Paxton and his death warriors inside.

Damien somehow made it out, standing on the lawn as the wind whipped his black coat. He opened his right hand—the pure black token lay in his palm.

Falcon hurried to Damien's side and reported with his head bowed, "Lord, the Ford Manor has been cleared. No survivors."

Damien nodded. His phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled out his phone and answered. An urgent voice from Shadow Sect intelligence came through.

"Lord, we just intercepted a top-secret directive on the dark web. Ares, the 'God of War' and one of Celestial Temple's twelve main gods, has left the European headquarters with his personal guard and is heading to San Francisco at full speed. Their target is you!"

Damien looked at the ruined wasteland before him and crushed the black token in his hand into a twisted lump of metal.

"Let him come," Damien casually tossed the twisted metal onto the ground, his tone icy. "San Francisco's cemetery has plenty of empty plots."

Damien turned and got in the car.

"Pull out."

Two hundred fully armed assassins quickly boarded their vehicles. Over a dozen black SUVs pulled away from the roadside and disappeared into the night.

Behind them, the Ford Manor was leveled. San Francisco's underworld had changed hands overnight.

Half an hour later, the convoy pulled into Safe House Number One on the hillside.

This was another sprawling private estate. Outside the perimeter, fifty fully armed Eagle special forces soldiers patrolled with Caucasian Shepherd dogs. In the control room, thirty screens monitored everything within a ten-mile radius in real time. The anti-aircraft missile system was on standby.

Inside the main building, lights blazed.

A world-class private medical team had been on standby.

Damien pushed open the master bedroom door.

Inside, Faye wore a pink nightgown and sat on a large leather sofa, holding a bowl of medicine that had been prepared for her.

Sophia sat beside her, dabbing at the corners of Faye's mouth with a tissue. She'd changed out of her damaged wedding dress into loose loungewear. Her face was still pale, but there was more life in her eyes.

"Daddy!" When Faye saw Damien enter, she immediately put down the bowl and threw her arms open for a hug.

Damien quickly walked over and pulled Faye into his arms. He'd already changed out of his blood-stained coat at the door and now wore only a clean white shirt.

"How are you feeling, Faye?"

Damien felt Faye's forehead. The Creation Pill was potent, and combined with the top medical team's care, Faye's pale complexion had returned to a healthy flush. The needle marks on her arm had scabbed over.

"It doesn't hurt anymore! The sweet water the doctor gave me was yummy," Faye said, wrapping her arms around Damien's neck, her eyes blinking up at him. "Daddy, where did you go for five years? All the other kids have daddies. Faye wants a daddy too. They all said you died and didn't want me and Mommy anymore."

Sophia's hands clenched tight. Her eyes instantly welled up with tears. She turned her head away.

Damien's heart seized with pain. He sat down, holding Faye, his voice gentle. "Daddy went to fight bad guys. There were a lot of bad guys, and Daddy had to fight hard, so he came home late. From now on, Daddy's not going anywhere. I'll be with Faye every day."

"Really?" Faye's eyes lit up. "Did Daddy win?"

"I won." Damien nodded.

"Daddy's the best!" Faye kissed Damien's cheek and yawned.

The medicine contained a sedative. After such a long day, Faye finally gave in to the drowsiness.

Sophia walked over and took Faye from Damien's arms, carrying her to the bed and tucking her in.

The room fell quiet.

Damien watched Sophia's back. She'd lost a lot of weight. Her thin frame was heartbreaking.