After a couple of hours, Surya and Jey reached the North Zone Station. As they stepped off the train, they were intercepted by Mani.
"Well done completing the mission," Mani said. "Because of this, we now know exactly who's been revolting against us."
He turned to Surya. "Ryan is waiting for you. This car will take you there."
Mani pointed to a black, armored car parked at the curb.
As Surya approached it, Jey grabbed his arm.
"Surya… don't do anything stupid. They've got nothing left to lose now. Please, be careful."
Surya glanced at him, eyes cold and steady.
"I know, Jey. I've already planned everything. The pawns are moving into position. Now, all that's left… is to bring down the king."
Without another word, Surya stepped into the car and slammed the door shut. It sped off into the night.
Jey, clutching the ledger, turned to Mani. "We head to HQ. Let's tell them what we found."
Minutes later, the car rolled to a stop in front of a towering building. Surya stepped out, shut the door behind him, and watched the vehicle disappear into the mist.
Five suited escorts were already waiting at the entrance. Without a word, they turned and led him inside.
He followed them through silent, gleaming halls until they reached an elevator. One of them pressed the topmost button.
As the elevator ascended, Surya's reflection stared back at him from the chrome walls—a man once broken, now carved from fury. No fear. No hesitation.
He wasn't here to talk.
The doors opened. Another escort stood ready.
"Follow me."
He led Surya through a grand rooftop bar—luxurious, elegant… and eerily empty. The silence hummed like tension in a gun barrel.
At the balcony, a single table. Two chairs. One silhouette.
Ryan stood at the edge, sipping a drink, his back turned to the city—and to Surya.
"Welcome," Ryan said without turning. "Pour yourself a drink... and come."
Surya silently filled a glass, the liquid rippling in his grip, and approached.
"Good job," Ryan said, voice lower, slightly slurred. "You saved Deson from falling."
Surya gave no answer. He stood still, watching the city lights scatter like stars beneath his feet.
Ryan took a slow sip. "Do you know why I always look down at this city?"
"I don't," Surya replied.
Ryan exhaled, a long breath steeped in memory.
"Twenty-five years ago, I was just another face in the gutter. I smiled for men who didn't deserve respect. I begged for scraps while pretending it was honor."
He glanced at Surya now. "Then came the dream. Me, Michael, Victor, and Arjun—we sat here once. Young, angry, hungry. We wanted more."
"You built Deson," Surya said.
Ryan nodded. "We built the name. But I made it real."
His voice hardened.
"I created Deson. I turned a fantasy into an empire. Hospitals. Clinics. Politicians in my pocket. Cities that dance to my orders."
He downed the rest of his drink and poured another.
"I made Michael rich. I gave Victor territory. I trusted Arjun with our books. And what did they do?"
He laughed, bitter and sharp.
"They schemed. Whispered in dark corners. Grew teeth they didn't have the right to sharpen."
Ryan moved closer to the edge. The wind caught his coat, making it flare like a shadow.
"Victor was a brute. Uncontrollable. But he feared me. Michael—spineless. Arjun... he's the one I should've killed first."
He turned fully to Surya now. His eyes burned, not with rage, but with old, smoldering pride.
"Tell me, Surya—do you know what real power is?"
"Money," Surya answered quietly.
Ryan smiled—but it didn't reach his eyes.
"No. It's fear. Money makes men listen. Fear makes them kneel."
He stepped in closer, eyes boring into Surya's.
"Imagine it—just your name, and people flinch. Cross the street. Drop their voice. Stop breathing."
He clinked his glass against Surya's.
"That's real power. And I alone… built it."
Surya didn't move. But inside, something curled. This wasn't a confession. It was a warning.
Ryan's voice turned to a low growl.
"Now the roaches crawl out. They think the king is weak. That Deson is up for grabs."
He looked back at the city—his city.
"What a bunch of fools," he muttered.
Then paused, smiled faintly.
"But they've forgotten one thing."
He turned once more, eyes locking with Surya's.
"Deson isn't a company. It's a kingdom. And I'm not dead yet."
Ryan stepped back from the balcony, finished his drink in a single smooth motion, and turned toward the elevator.
"Get some rest, Surya," he said, his tone calm but tired. "Tomorrow, we talk expansion."
He left without waiting for a reply.
Surya stood alone on the balcony, staring into the city haze. The air was thick with smoke and distant sirens. Below him, the world moved like nothing had changed.
But something had.
Something final.
Back at the hotel, Surya stripped off his jacket and stared into the mirror. The light above him flickered—tired, unstable—like the city beyond the window.
His face was bruised, blood dried around his knuckles. But that wasn't what he was here to see.
He moved to the bed, sat down, and began unwrapping the bandage from his left forearm. The cloth peeled away, revealing three deep, faded names, two crossed out with a single line cut through them.
MICHAEL
VICTOR
RYAN
A cold smile touched the corner of Surya's lips.
Two down.
There was room for one more.
Surya picked up the blade, turned it over in his fingers, then pressed it to his skin with practiced ease. No flinch. No fear. Just purpose.
Beneath the crossed-out names, he began carving the final one—letter by letter, slow and deliberate:
A R J U N
Blood rose from the fresh wound, seeping into the old scars. It didn't sting. It didn't matter. The pain had long since become part of the ritual.
Surya stared at the name. His voice was barely above a whisper:
"The last one."
He leaned back in the chair, arm still bleeding, and gazed out through the window at the sleeping city.
He didn't blink.
He didn't breathe deep.
He just waited—for morning, for fire, for the last hunt.
Inside Deson HQ, the atmosphere was tense. Strategists hovered over maps. Screens flickered with surveillance feeds. It wasn't a business anymore—it was a war room.
Ryan and Mani stood near a digital display of the city's sector map. When Surya entered, both men looked up.
Ryan smirked. "Glad to see you didn't jump off the balcony."
Surya didn't smile.
Mani gestured to the East Zone glowing red on the map. "This is Arjun's stronghold. He's made no public moves… but we know he's fortifying his control—stockpiling weapons, recruiting ex-military, bribing police."
Ryan spoke slowly, as if savoring the moment. "Arjun was always the clever one. He won't come for us head-on. He'll choke the supply lines, flip the zones, then bleed us until Deson collapses."
Jey crossed his arms. "So what's the plan?"
Ryan tapped the map.
"We send in a ghost."
He looked at Surya.
"You'll go in quiet. No full-scale attack. You scout. You infiltrate. You find where Arjun's hiding… and you watch him. Report back. We hit fast, surgical, before he sees it coming."
Mani added, "We have a few assets still loyal in the East Zone—one's embedded in a nightclub Arjun uses to meet clients. We'll get you in."
Ryan stepped closer to Surya. "This is your final war, boy. Take Arjun down, and there's no one left to challenge us."
He paused.
"Unless, of course… you want the throne for yourself."
Surya's voice was cold steel.
"I'm not here to rule."
"I'm here to finish what was started."
Ryan raised his glass—water this time, not whiskey.
"To the end, then."
As the meeting ended, Jey lingered beside Surya.
"Are you ready for this?" he asked.
Surya looked down at the blood-crusted name on his arm.
"I've been ready since I was a kid."
"They made me.
let me show them."
Fade out.