My Supernatural Girlfriends Spoils Me Rotten

Chao shifted uneasily, glancing at the scar. "So, what's next, Boss?"

Kai stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray, the glow fading as he pressed it down firmly.

"We're not waiting around for them to make the first move .Get the guys together. Let's remind them who runs this place. "

A dark smile curved his lips. "And tell our visitors on the docks to be ready for anything."

"Are you sure, Boss? Those people are dangerous and unpredictable," Chao warned.

He dealt with plenty of bad people, but those so-called visitors were on another level entirely.

"I'm sure," Kai replied, his tone unshakable. "This is the Yamagi family we're dealing with, not just anyone. If the person who did this to me is here... then I doubt we have enough bullets"

A bead of sweat ran down on the accountant's face at the declaration. He wondered just how dangerous this 'Yamagi dog' really was.

"Just do it," Kai said, waving him off dismissively.

Chao gave a quick nod and rushed out, grabbing his radio to relay the orders.

Back in the office, Kai leaned back in his chair, absently tracing the scar on his arm with his fingers.

'If they want war, we'll give it to them,' he muttered to himself.

Then, he stood up and pressed a button beneath the desk.

A soft click echoed.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The painting on the wall slid aside, revealing a hidden door.

He stepped inside, the room pristine white, lined with dozens of guns neatly displayed on the walls.

Other weapons were arranged with equal precision—grenades, various types of knives, each one carefully placed and ready for use.

But his gaze was fixed on a single item—a silver katana resting in one of the glass displays.

He picked up the katana, his fingers tracing the blade.

'I hope it's you, Nakata,' Kai muttered to himself, his grip tightening on the blade. 'So we can finally settle our score and see who's really the strongest disciple!'

—

—

—

Meanwhile, in another part of the warehouse, Asher moved silently through the narrow corridors, unaware of the storm closing in around him.

He gripped his knife tightly, opting against using his gun for now. The flash from each shot would be too easy to spot.

As he turned a corner, he spotted a guard walking alone, barely paying attention.

He closed the distance in seconds with his speed.

BURST!

The knife slid under the guard's ribs, pressing upward and ending a life in a single, silent strike.

A second guard appeared just a few feet away, oblivious to the scene unfolding in the shadows.

Asher slipped in behind him, grabbing the guard by the shoulder and pulling him into the corner. The blade found its mark in the throat, silencing the target instantly.

With each kill, he moved the bodies out of sight first, concealing them before turning them into pills, leaving no trace behind.

Things had been going smoothly until the sudden crack of a gunshot echoed from behind him, close enough that he could feel the rush of air.

He dropped low, instinct taking over, narrowly avoiding a hail of bullets that tore through the air, shredding everything in its path.

Keeping his head down, he crawled along the floor, each shot pounding against the walls and floor around him.

"We've got one here!" shouted a gangster, his finger glued to the trigger.

Asher managed to reach a corner with thick enough walls, seeking cover. He knew that if he stayed still for too long, they'd have him pinned down.

However—

The gunfire kept coming, nonstop and deafening

Asher used the darkness to his advantage—at least, until they started flipping on the industrial flashlights.

The lights flashed, making it harder to track the gangsters.

They moved in, footsteps heavy, weapons ready. One by one, they reloaded, preparing for the next attack.

'Damn it.' Asher cursed under his breath.

He had trained with Nakata—but none of that prepared him for the finer details.

The most important one? Positioning.

Continue your saga on empire

He didn't think about his surroundings, and the possibility of being cornered. Now, he was paying the price.

The gunfire stopped, but the silence felt worse than the shots.

He fired a few quick rounds into the closest gangsters, trying to force them back. But it was useless.

They already knew where he was, and the blinding lights worked against him. His shots were ineffective, and the gangsters returned fire, forcing him to retreat into hiding.

"Get the fuck out or we'll throw a grenade!" one of them yelled.

'A grenade?' his mind raced.

They didn't need perfect aim to flush him out—just the pull of a pin and the toss of an explosive, and it would all be over.

He didn't respond immediately, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

'Calm down. He thought to himself, forcing his fingers to steady on the grip of his gun. 'Think.'

Suddenly, he slipped into hyperfocus. Everything sharpened, and the fear of death faded, replaced by a calculative gaze.

After considering everything, a plan began to form in his mind.

He transferred his pistol to his left hand, his fingers already moving to grab the Uzi with his right.

The odds were stacked against him, but he wasn't about to go down without a fight.

Eyes closed, he listened intently to the sound of footsteps, growing louder and closer, coming from different directions.

'Now!'

He peaked out from behind the corner, just enough to get a glimpse of the gangsters taking position, their weapons raised, ready to tear him apart.

Without hesitation, he squeezed the triggers of both weapons.

The Uzi roared to life in his hands, its rapid-fire burst cutting through the air.

They fired back, their weapons flashing in unison, but Asher was the first to move

The Uzi's muzzle flashed as it emptied round after round.

One went down, clutching at his chest, blood splattering across the floor in a dark, sickening spray.

Another dropped to his knees, howling in pain as a bullet tore through his arm.

But they kept coming, firing back with a vengeance, their bullets shredding the air around him.

BANG!

Another gangster dropped. This one's body jerked, and then crumpled to the ground, the head snapping back like a ragdoll.

At the same time, bullets tore through Asher's body, each shot slamming into him, pinning him against the wall.

The first one hit his shoulder, the second his side, the third his leg. He felt his body start to slow, the wounds in every part of him threatening to tear him apart.

His vision blurred as a bullet directly hit his head, blood staining his shirt as he staggered, struggling to stay on his feet.

But the Uzi stayed steady in his hands. Despite blood and brain matter soaking his clothes, he kept firing.

He might look human, but he was far from it. He was an undead who could endure such punishment.

When the shootout ended, everyone was dead—even him. He looked like a mangled corpse, his body battered, and the entire place was reduced to rubble by the attack.

"Arghhh!" Asher gasped, his body jerking violently as the bullets were forced out of his flesh.