The Moment a Boy Died… and a Monster Was Born
The battlefield had turned into hell.
Gunfire cracked through the warehouse, echoing like thunder trapped in steel walls. Smoke curled into the air, thick and suffocating.
Ryan's expression hardened.
Cold. Focused. Dangerous.
Across the chaos, Maxwell stood tall, a twisted smile cutting across his face.
"You think you can beat me?" he sneered.
Ryan didn't answer immediately.
A slow smile crept onto his lips—one that didn't reach his eyes.
"We'll see."
Behind him, a low chuckle sounded.
Don Alessandro stepped forward, his presence swallowing the noise around him.
"Take him down."
The order dropped like a death sentence.
Men surged forward.
And the war began.
At first, it looked like Alessandro's side had control.
Bodies fell. Bullets found targets. Victory seemed close—
Until everything flipped.
The warehouse doors burst open again.
Maxwell's reinforcements.
Gunfire exploded from every direction.
Chaos.
Pure chaos.
Don Alessandro's jaw tightened.
"Damn it…"
Before he could react—
Seven armed men stepped forward, surrounding the center like executioners.
Maxwell laughed.
"You think you can beat me, Marco?"
Silence.
Then—
A man stepped out.
Marco.
Calm. Unshaken. Deadly.
"You don't know me," he said quietly.
Maxwell's grin widened.
"I know enough."
That was his last mistake.
Marco moved.
No warning.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
He struck like lightning—too fast to follow. One man dropped. Then another.
The third didn't even finish raising his gun before he hit the ground.
Ryan's breath caught.
This… wasn't normal.
Marco wasn't fighting.
He was hunting.
The remaining men rushed him, but it didn't matter.
Marco cut through them like they were nothing.
Precise.
Brutal.
Unstoppable.
And then—
BANG!
The sound ripped through everything.
Time froze.
Ryan's head snapped toward the source.
Marco staggered.
Then dropped.
"No…" Ryan whispered.
"Marco's been shot!" someone yelled.
Everything inside Ryan snapped into place.
"Go check on him—" a voice started.
Too late.
Ryan was already moving.
He ran through gunfire.
Through chaos.
Through death.
Until he saw him.
Marco.
On the ground.
Bleeding.
Surrounded.
"You shouldn't have come alone," one of the enemies mocked.
Ryan slid behind a broken wall, heart pounding—but his mind…
Sharp.
Silent.
Deadly.
Then he moved.
Fast.
Explosive.
He lunged at the nearest man—
CRACK.
One down.
He twisted, grabbed another—
SLAM.
Two.
A blade flashed.
Three.
The fight turned savage.
No technique.
No hesitation.
Just survival.
Ryan fought like an animal backed into a corner—feral, relentless, unstoppable.
One by one—
They fell.
Silence returned.
Heavy.
Breathing hard, Ryan turned back to Marco.
Blood pooled beneath him.
Too much.
"Stay with me," Ryan muttered, gripping his shoulder.
Marco didn't respond.
Ryan clenched his jaw and pulled him up, dragging him away from the open.
Step.
Step.
Step—
"Going somewhere?"
Ryan froze.
That voice.
Slowly… he turned.
Maxwell.
Gun raised.
Eyes filled with cruel amusement.
For a split second—
Everything went still.
Then—
BANG!
Ryan dropped.
Pain exploded through his body as he hit the ground hard.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Final.
Seconds passed.
Then—
Ryan's fingers twitched.
His eyes snapped open.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
Alive.
Maxwell missed.
A mistake.
A fatal one.
Ryan's gaze darkened as he slowly pushed himself up, blood staining his hands.
Rage burned in his chest—hotter than anything he had ever felt.
He lifted his head.
Locked eyes with Maxwell.
And smiled.
Cold.
Terrifying.
"This…" Ryan said, voice low and shaking with fury,
"…isn't over."When Blood Chooses Sides