At that moment, the entire warehouse was in chaos.
Screams had just died down, but the silence that followed was even louder than the noise. Kevin stood in the middle of the ruined space—no, he knelt now. The ten men he brought to teach Zane a lesson… they were gone.
Dead.
Every single one of them, And Zane?
Zane didn't even look like someone who had just killed a squad of trained enforcers.
There wasn't a drop of sweat on him, no fear. No anger.
He was calmly adjusting the dark glove on his right hand, wiping a faint smudge of blood from its edge like it was nothing more than dust. Everyone else stood frozen—no one could move, speak, or even breathe too loud. The man they all thought was a joke had just turned into their worst nightmare.
Kevin was shaking. "Z-Zane…" he stuttered, voice broken. "Please… I'm sorry… I didn't know…"
Zane didn't answer, he simply turned slightly to the side and pulled the glove tighter, his expression cold, unreadable.
