The Almighty Dominance

The flying iron door crashed back and crushed two thugs who'd been waiting with rifles, their bodies folding like paper under cold iron.

An alarm split the night. "Enemy attack!" someone screamed. The room filled with men reaching for laser pistols, faces hard with surprise and fury.

It was what war looked like in alleys-fast, ugly, inevitable. But Alex was faster.

He moved like a blade: precise, brutal. Men went down with snapped bones and gasps.

Weapons clattered and sparked across the wet stones. He didn't hesitate.

He broke wrists, snapped arms, tore men off their feet. The fight was a series of short, sharp sentences-strike, fall, breathe.

From the back of the room Jack Chambers appeared, a bull of a man with a grin that smelled of oil and money.

Beside him stood a hulking iron robot, bristling with guns and menace.

"You think you walk in here and take my turf?" Jack growled. "You bastard-do you want to die? Meet my guard: the latest model. It can crush a hundred men without breaking a sweat-"

Jack never finished.

Alex lunged. With one hand he slammed into the robot's core.

Metal arms tore and sparks flew; the machine's frame folded like a wounded animal and slammed into the wall, sending concrete tasting the floor.

Jack's confident grin snapped into confusion.

"Did you say something?" Alex asked, cold and close.

Jack's face went white. He dropped to his knees so fast it looked like an act. "No -no, sir. Welcome home, boss. Tell me what you want me to do. I will do it with my life."

After that night nothing was the same. Each week Alex walked with the Kingswell through the city's underside.

"Young Master," Jack said as he followed Alex down the narrow alley.

"This territory belongs to one of the toughest gangs in the city. Most of them are illegal immigrants from Xia. They call themselves cultivators-people who use breathing techniques and focus heaven and earth energy to harden their bodies. They're stronger than machines. Are you sure you want to take them on?"

Alex didn't even look back. "Sure," he said, walking straight toward a run-down gambling den glowing with red neon.

Two guards stood at the door, both sleeveless and built like fighters. One raised a brow. "You here to gamble?"

Alex smiled. “No. I'm here to take over this gang."

The words hit like a gunshot.

"You-!" the man snapped, dropping into a fighting stance. But before either of them could move, an invisible pressure slammed into them.

Their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

disbelief. He'd seen robot soldiers torn apart

reduced to scrap in seconds. These people fought like engines of

the gang's strongest guards lay sprawled on the ground, unconscious-taken out without

pushed the door open and

was alive with noise-cards snapping, dice

his energy flare just enough to sense the strongest

through

stop

the man could finish, he dropped,

last door. Inside, a middle-aged man worked over floating 3D data projections. He turned sharply, frowning.

this gang under my

laughed, rising to his full height. His voice dripped arrogance. "Do you even know who I

"But here's the real question-do you know

thrusting his fist forward. A shockwave rippled through the

with Alex's chest-but the moment it did, the man's

water swallowed by the sea. Then, just

slamming into the far wall with a crash that shook the floor. Blood

his face pale, body trembling. "A... a

Lee," he stammered. "Welcome, Grand Master.

in

Lee-the infamous

been crushed in a single move. Jack

he thought. The legend just bowed

men moved through the city like wolves in winter-cold, relentless, and precise.

dismantled the underey et

gang

and black-market lords. No one stood for

grew bolder; with

law could touch them, and no amount of money could buy them off. Their reach spread through the alleys and ports, through gambling dens and

year after carving out the biggest share of the underworld, Alex sat in a city

through half the syndicates, but the rest were no longer gangs- they

leaders sat at banquets with generals, shook hands with ministers, and smiled for cameras next to nobles in pressed uniforms. They ran

were men whose names appeared in government

built hospitals that laundered millions. They were the

understood the math of

would call you a terrorist. The military would call

medals. Their crimes wore

he sat

move against them too soon wasn't

legal," Alex said. "We build a company. A clean face

hire our people