His gaze flicked to Benjamin. Did that bastard plan this? But Benjamin looked just as shocked. He hadn’t expected this either.

  Then, Orion got a good look at the newcomer. His stomach dropped. "Griffin."

  "That’s right," Griffin said lightly. "I came here today to settle an old score with you."

  Orion tensed, subtly shifting his injured hand behind his back. His abdomen was still bleeding, and there was no hiding it now. He could handle Axel—hell, Axel was barely standing. But Griffin? That was a whole different fight.

  This wasn’t a coincidence. Griffin had waited for the perfect moment—to strike when Orion was already on the brink. But there was one thing Orion still had going for him—

  Axel, Cassia, and Benjamin had no idea about his history with Griffin. And right now, they were using the distraction to slip away. Griffin, for whatever reason, wasn’t stopping them. He let them run.

  Orion’s jaw tightened. Damn it. If Axel got away now, there was no telling how strong he’d become by the next time they met.

  "Griffin, What do you want to do?" Orion asked, stalling for time.

  Outside the door, Axel and his team weren’t moving fast. He had Benjamin slung over his shoulder—dead weight thanks to his injuries—while Cassia kept close behind, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

  Benjamin stirred, his voice urgent.

  "Axel, wait! We still have a chance!" he hissed. "Griffin is the Crimson Vipers’ leader. Orion is stronger, but he’s injured! If we go back and team up with Griffin, we might actually win!"

  Cassia turned to Axel, waiting for his response. But instead of relief or consideration, his face twisted into something strange.

  She frowned. Why does he look like that? Then, Axel muttered something that sent a chill down her spine—

  "That’s not Griffin."

  "No time to explain. We need to move—now."

  As they ran, they knew they wouldn’t stay unnoticed for long. Sure enough, the moment they burst out of the building, the fight raging downstairs froze.

  Two groups stood in a tense standoff—Benjamin’s remaining men on one side and the Ironfang Syndicate on the other.

  At the sight of Benjamin, his men erupted. "Mr. Benjamin!"

  But the Ironfang Syndicate thugs? Their shock turned to rage. "What the fuck?!" one of them shouted. "Aren’t you supposed to be protecting the boss?!"

  A few of them drew knives, their eyes burning with fury.

  Axel didn’t miss a beat. "Of course I did! Look—" he jerked Benjamin forward like a trophy. "Didn’t I just bring these traitors straight to you?" He didn’t slow down. Neither did Cassia.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  For a split second, the Ironfang Syndicate members hesitated. The lie was flimsy as hell, but in their confusion, some of them actually considered it. Then— "BULLSHIT!"

  That moment of hesitation snapped. "Fucking kill them!"

  The dozen or so Ironfang thugs turned all their fury onto Axel’s group. Their former opponents were momentarily forgotten as they charged.

  Axel swore. Benjamin’s men scrambled to intercept, but Axel knew—if they got pinned down here, if Orion caught up—they were done.

  And just when things couldn’t get worse— A new voice cut through the chaos. "Yo. This looks fun."

  The whole garage went silent. At the entrance, a new group of men had appeared—dressed in black, standing in disciplined formation. At their center stood a thin man with sharp, sunken features and a cold smirk.

  The Ironfang Syndicate men froze. "Griffin…" A bitter grimace spread across their faces. They hadn’t gone upstairs to check on Orion because they’d assumed he had things under control. They figured Benjamin and his people would be dead by now.

  But what you fear has a way of coming true. Because in this city? Griffin was the last man they wanted to show up when they were vulnerable.

  "Orion is seriously injured," Griffin said casually, scanning the room. His gaze flickered briefly over Benjamin—bloodied, barely standing—then landed on Axel. His expression tightened ever so slightly.

  He’d seen the video of the fight. This guy… fought Orion to a standstill?

  Interesting. But that didn’t change his goal. "I’m here to settle an old score," Griffin continued smoothly. "Drop your weapons, stand aside, and I’ll let you live."

  He didn’t wait for an answer. His gaze swept back toward the building, toward where Orion was still inside. Then, his smirk sharpened. "As for the rest of you—" he gestured lazily. "Keep them here. No one leaves."

  Inside the building, Orion let out a ragged breath. He could hear the voice outside. Could hear his men moving, securing the exits.

  Orion gritted his teeth, glancing down at his wounds. He was still bleeding. His body ached from the fight with Axel.

  But that wasn’t what bothered him. No— What bothered him was the fact that something felt off.

  He stared at Griffin. Something wasn’t right.

  He came all this way just to confront me. If he’s really ready to fight to the death, why the hell is he just standing there?

  Griffin wasn’t attacking. Wasn’t pressing the advantage. Instead, he lingered, acting mysterious, radiating an eerie confidence that made Orion hesitant to move.

  And yet—the longer he waited, the more his body recovered.

  Orion exhaled slowly, steadying himself. The pain in his gut dulled slightly, his strength returning little by little.

  But then, another thing struck him— Since when was Griffin this… short?

  Orion’s brow furrowed. The Griffin in front of him felt different. His presence lacked the usual sharp, bone-chilling aura.

  Suspicion flared in Orion’s gut, and it must have shown in his expression because “Griffin” subtly shifted his footing, inching toward the exit.

  His mind raced. That should’ve bought Axel and the others enough time to escape.

  Truthfully, standing this close to Orion was fucking terrifying. He could feel the force radiating from him, pressing down like a boulder. Maintaining his 'Strange Face' ability was draining him fast.

  Then, sensing his reserves running low, “Griffin” suddenly exploded into motion. "Orion! Prepare to die!"

  Orion tensed, fully prepared for an attack. But instead— The bastard ran.

  Like a goddamn rabbit with rockets strapped to its feet, “Griffin” turned and bolted, slipping through the doorway in one impossibly smooth motion—so clean, so rehearsed, it was clear he’d pictured this moment a thousand times in his head.

  For a split second, Orion just stared. Then— "YOU SON OF A BITCH!" He took a furious step forward—then froze. The fleeing figure changed.

  Hair darkened. Shoulders shrank. The frame morphed from Griffin’s to someone far more familiar. "Zane?!" Orion’s blood went hot.

  Now it made sense. The subtle differences. The hesitation. The way he stalled instead of attacking.

  Zane’s Awakening skill—'Strange Face'. The ability to mimic another’s appearance. He’d been played.

  Griffin smirked, leaning back in his chair as if he had all the time in the world. "Do this? Nah." He shrugged. "I just came for revenge. Did you forget?"

  Orion’s stomach twisted. Revenge? For what?