The shattered glass crunched underfoot as Hùng and Vinh scrambled onto the narrow ledge, the freezing wind whipping against their faces. Below them, the city sprawled in endless lights, but there was no time to admire the view. Behind them, Quân’s men had regrouped, and the sound of their heavy boots and sharp commands echoed from the shattered window.

“We need to move, now,” Hùng growled, gripping the side of the building as he edged forward along the ledge. His mind raced, calculating the distance to the fire escape. It was at least twenty feet away—twenty feet with nothing but slick concrete and certain death below.

Vinh glanced back at the open window, his breath coming in quick gasps. “They’re going to follow us out here. What’s the plan?”

“We don’t have time for a plan,” Hùng snapped, eyes focused on the fire escape ahead. “Just follow me and don’t stop.”

The two men inched forward, their backs pressed against the cold, wet surface of the building. The rain was coming down harder now, making the ledge even more treacherous. Below them, the sounds of the city seemed far away, swallowed by the howling wind and the frantic beat of their own hearts.

A shot rang out, and a chunk of concrete exploded just inches from Hùng’s head. He ducked instinctively, his pulse spiking as he glanced back. Quân’s men were leaning out of the window, their guns raised, ready to fire again.

“Go!” Hùng shouted, his voice barely audible over the storm. He bolted forward, making a desperate leap for the fire escape. For a heart-stopping moment, he was airborne, his fingers grasping at nothing but air. Then, with a sharp jolt, his hands caught the edge of the metal railing, and he hauled himself up onto the platform.

“Vinh, jump!” Hùng shouted, holding out his hand as his friend hesitated on the ledge.

Vinh’s eyes were wide with fear, but he didn’t have a choice. He pushed off from the ledge, his body twisting in the air as he reached for Hùng’s outstretched hand. Their fingers brushed for a split second before Vinh’s hand slipped, and he fell, his scream lost in the wind.

“No!” Hùng lunged forward, grabbing Vinh’s wrist just in time. His muscles strained as he pulled him up onto the fire escape, both of them collapsing in a heap on the cold, wet metal.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, their chests heaving with exertion. Above them, more gunfire erupted, the bullets pinging off the fire escape with metallic clangs.

“We have to keep moving,” Hùng panted, pulling Vinh to his feet. “They’re not going to stop.”

Together, they climbed down the fire escape, their movements hurried and clumsy in the rain. The sound of pursuit was growing louder—Quân’s men were closing in fast, their shouts barely audible over the storm.

By the time they reached the ground, Hùng’s mind was already racing with a plan. The files were secure in his pocket, but that was only part of the battle. Quân would come after them harder now, more desperate, more ruthless. This wasn’t just about revenge anymore—it was survival.

“We need to split up,” Hùng said, his voice sharp with urgency as they hit the alleyway. “They’ll expect us to stick together.”

Vinh shook his head. “No, we’re safer together.”

Hùng’s eyes flashed. “We’re dead if we stay together. You go to the safehouse, and I’ll draw them away.”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“But—”

“Do it!” Hùng growled, grabbing Vinh’s collar and forcing him to meet his gaze. “I’ll find you when it’s clear. Now go!”

Vinh hesitated for a moment longer, but the fear in his eyes told Hùng he understood. With a quick nod, Vinh turned and ran, disappearing into the maze of alleys and side streets.

Hùng stood there for a moment, listening to the fading sound of Vinh’s footsteps. He could feel the weight of the files in his pocket, the proof of Quân’s crimes, the key to bringing him down. But none of it would matter if he didn’t make it out of here alive.

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped him back to reality. Without another word, Hùng sprinted down the alley, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the shouts of Quân’s men behind him, their voices growing louder as they closed in.

Ahead, the alley opened up into a busy street. Cars whizzed by, their headlights cutting through the rain-soaked darkness. Hùng darted into the street, weaving between the cars as horns blared and drivers shouted in frustration.

Behind him, the first of Quân’s men burst out of the alley, their guns drawn. Hùng ducked behind a parked van, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tried to catch his breath. He could see them now—three men, armed and dangerous, their eyes scanning the street for any sign of him.

“I know you’re out here, Tấn,” one of them called out, his voice mocking. “You can run, but you can’t hide forever.”

Hùng’s jaw tightened at the mention of the name he had been forced to adopt in this life. Tấn—an identity that wasn’t his, a mask he had worn for too long. But they didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know that he wasn’t just some small-time player in this game.

He was Hùng. And he wasn’t going to run anymore.

The Ambush

The three men split up, fanning out across the street as they searched for any sign of movement. Hùng watched them carefully, his mind calculating every possible move. He was outnumbered and outgunned, but he had the element of surprise.

As the first of Quân’s men passed by the van, Hùng moved quickly, silently. He grabbed the man by the neck, his arm wrapping around him in a tight chokehold. The man struggled, his eyes bulging as he tried to gasp for air, but Hùng didn’t let up. Within seconds, the man’s body went limp, and Hùng let him drop to the ground.

One down.

The second man turned just in time to see his comrade fall, but Hùng was already moving. He lunged forward, his knife flashing in the dim light as he plunged it into the man’s chest. The man let out a gurgled cry before collapsing to the ground, blood pooling around him.

Two down.

The third man heard the commotion and spun around, his gun raised. But Hùng was faster. He grabbed the gun and twisted, disarming the man in one swift motion before delivering a brutal punch to his face. The man stumbled back, dazed, but Hùng didn’t stop. He drove his fist into the man’s gut, then followed up with a knee to the face, sending him crashing to the ground.

Three down.

Hùng stood over the fallen men, his chest heaving with exertion. The rain continued to pour down, washing away the blood that stained the street. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel the satisfaction of victory. But it was short-lived.

He could hear the distant wail of sirens now, growing louder with each passing second. The police were coming, and while they weren’t Quân’s men, they were just as dangerous.

Hùng took a deep breath, his mind racing. He had to move, and fast.

The Call

As Hùng made his way through the winding streets, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen—an unknown number. His stomach tightened. He knew who it was before he even answered.

“Hello?”

“You’ve been busy, Tấn,” a familiar voice said on the other end of the line. It was Quân.

Hùng’s grip on the phone tightened. “It’s over, Quân. I have everything I need to bring you down.”

Quân chuckled softly. “Do you really think it’s that simple? You think those files will be enough to stop me?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Hùng thought Quân might actually be worried. But then, the man’s voice came back, colder than ever.

“You may have won this round, Tấn, but don’t forget—I still know who you are. I know what you’ve done. And I know how to find you.”

Hùng’s jaw clenched. “You can try.”

“Oh, I will,” Quân replied, his voice dripping with menace. “And when I do, I’ll make sure you suffer. Just like you made me suffer.”

The line went dead, and Hùng stood there in the rain, his heart pounding in his chest. Quân’s threat hung in the air, a dark cloud that refused to dissipate.

But Hùng wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.

He had made his move. And now, it was Quân’s turn