Chapter 202
Chapter 202
Graham tilted his head slightly, the smile on his face deepening. He didn't deny it. Instead, he slowly reached into his coat's inner pocket and pulled something out, holding it up to the white beam of the headlights.
A dagger.
The hilt was carved with a roaring tiger's fang, the sheath made of dark brown leather, its edges worn smooth and shiny with age. It was one of the daggers Victoria had seen in the Clifford Family's vault.
This was Tiger Fang—the one that belonged to Desmond.
"Let me reintroduce myself." Graham toyed with the dagger in his hand, his tone friendly, as if he were genuinely meeting someone for the first time. "My father, Desmond—or as you might know him better, Damian. Not only did I not die abroad, I'm alive and well. Sorry to disappoint you."
Victoria's gaze turned ice-cold in an instant. Countless threads of information in her mind suddenly rearranged themselves all at once. Everything made sense now.
"You deliberately gave Scorpion to Angela," Victoria said, her voice cold and certain. "You left breadcrumbs on purpose, led us to the clues, all to lure us here."
"Ms. Getty, you truly are brilliant." Graham tucked the dagger away with elegant, unhurried movements, a trace of admiration playing at the corner of his mouth. "Scorpion, that second-rate organization, was never a trump card in my hands. I handed it to Angela hoping she could do some of my dirty work, but the woman turned out to be disappointingly stupid."
"Not ruthless enough, not clear-headed enough, and constantly getting emotional. But it doesn't matter. Even though she couldn't accomplish what I asked, she brought you here. That was her greatest value."
He glanced down at Angela's body on the ground, his expression utterly unmoved, as if looking at a tool that had outlived its usefulness and been discarded.
"Oh, Mr. Howard, I have some good news for you."
Graham lifted his head to look at William, his smile turning sinister, his eyes glinting with a near-maniacal light. "Your half-brother Lucas just became a vegetable."
"You were too merciful, actually leaving him alive. Since you couldn't bring yourself to finish the job, I figured I'd help you out. No need to thank me. After all, only by granting your wish can you go to your death with peace of mind, right?"
The moment his words fell, a familiar figure emerged from behind the wall of men.
William's gaze swept over, and his brow lifted slightly.
This was someone both he and Victoria knew well—Evan. Lucas's assistant, the trusted confidant who had been at Lucas's side for eight years.
Evan stood half a step behind Graham, head bowed, the picture of respectful deference, exactly as he had always appeared beside Lucas—except now he served a different master.
Or rather, the master he had served from the very beginning had only ever been one person: Graham.
Graham reached out and patted Evan's shoulder, his tone like that of a boss praising an employee with excellent performance. "Well done. All those years undercover must have been exhausting. Medicine truly is miraculous, isn't it? Just a little extra something added to the anesthesia, and a person's cerebral cortex permanently stops functioning at higher levels. They become a living corpse, lying motionless in bed. So, Mr. William Howard, are you satisfied with this outcome?"
William's jawline went taut as a blade. He slowly turned toward Graham, his eyes devoid of any emotional fluctuation now, leaving only a cold, compressed killing intent.
"You're doing all this to take the three daggers and activate the Kaiseraiser Unit by yourself," William said with certainty.
"Exactly." Graham snapped his fingers, and the gentle smile on his face finally revealed a long-hidden edge. "As expected of you—you figured it out so quickly. Since you've already guessed, I won't bother hiding it anymore."
Graham snapped his fingers again.
The sound was crisp and brief, like a pebble tossed into stagnant water in the quiet alley. Then suddenly the headlights flared violently, searing everyone's eyes. Instinctively, they all raised their hands to shield themselves. In that split second, several dull thuds of heavy objects hitting the ground came from beside William and Victoria.
When they lowered their hands, twelve figures had appeared like phantoms, having already eliminated all of William's men.
The twelve surrounded William, Victoria, and Frank.
No one knew when they had appeared—it was as if they had always been there, waiting in the darkness for a signal.
All twelve wore emotionless expressions behind demon-faced masks, like twelve statues emerging from shadow. The masks covered most of their faces, leaving only their eyes visible—and those eyes were the most unsettling part.
No extraneous emotion, no nervousness, no excitement, not even killing intent. Only a pure, bone-deep focus drilled into them through training, like twelve precision killing machines awaiting orders.
Their weapons were identical suppressed submachine guns, fitted with silencers and holographic sights. Red beams from the sights wove a dense net through the alley, each line locked onto a target—William, Victoria, Frank. The red dots scattered across their bodies like an inescapable web.
This was the legendary Kaiseraiser Unit.
The ultimate killing instrument, forged through the Kaiseraiser Unit's unique, nearly brutal training system, ultimately becoming emotionless, flawless, unhesitating killing machines.
This was also why the three daggers had been required to activate the unit—to prevent any one party, blinded by profit and power, from using it for wanton slaughter. Their fathers' original intent in creating this unit had been self-preservation, not massacre.
Graham stood behind the wall of twelve, hands tucked in his coat pockets, posture still casual and relaxed, but the gentle smile had completely vanished from his face. He took half a step forward, cold light pouring down from above and carving his features into stark contrasts of light and shadow.
The corner of his mouth curved upward—not a smile, but the twisted release of ten years of suppressed hatred finally unleashed in its final moment. "The blood debt you owe the Powell Family from ten years ago—today, it's time to pay."
He pointed at William with manic fury, shouting, "Ten years ago, my father died of sudden illness in prison! My mother couldn't accept it and jumped from a building—her body landed right at my feet, eyes wide open! I closed them with my own hands. Do you know what that feels like? You don't!"
"You've spent these ten years in glory, the Howard Group growing bigger and bigger, everyone calling you Mr. Howard. And me? I underwent three heart surgeries abroad. Every time I woke from anesthesia, I didn't know if I had a few more years to live, if I'd survive to see my revenge succeed."
"Fortunately, that day has finally come."
He took a step back, retreating behind the wall of men, his eyes brimming with towering hatred. "Today, all of you will accompany my parents to the grave!"
He displayed the three daggers—Wolf Head, Eagle Beak, Tiger Fang—then issued his command. "Kaiseraiser Unit, kill them. But don't make it too quick—that wouldn't be any fun."
The moment Graham's words fell, all twelve masked figures moved simultaneously—but they did something completely unexpected.
They dropped their guns.
The sound of metal hitting the floor came in perfect unison, twelve weapons falling at once, kicking up rings of fine dust.
Someone brought Graham a chair, the dark brown wood gleaming heavily under the white headlights.
Graham sat down, crossing his legs, his posture as relaxed as if he were in an opera box waiting for a long-anticipated performance. His gaze fell with interest on the three people surrounded in the center. He had waited ten years for this revenge—of course he couldn't let them die too easily. He wanted to savor the process.
He wanted to watch them be consumed bit by bit, broken down, crushed—first physically, then in spirit.
Graham noticed William unconsciously moving to shield Victoria behind him, and his eyes suddenly lit up, a delighted expression crossing his face as if he'd discovered treasure. This man seemed to care deeply about this woman named Victoria.
"Kill the woman first."