The Beijing safehouse stood battered against the dawn, its walls scarred from the night's violence, the air thick with dust and the faint tang of blood. Feng Ruoxi faced the rubble where the red-eyed figure emerged, cloaked in shadow, its dim eyes flickering as it hissed, "Father's legacy lives." The phoenix pendant burned against her chest, her mark blazing crimson as fire surged in her palms—wild, fierce, a force she could barely contain. Her blood thundered, the golden-eyed woman's promise ringing clear: "Your blood reigns."
Jiang Yukang stood beside her, his pistol steady despite the blood seeping through his bandaged shoulder and ribs, his dark eyes locked on the figure—a final remnant of Tianhua's brood, smaller than the beast but alive with menace. "Last gasp," he growled, voice raw but resolute, the kingpin's calm a steel thread. "We end it—here."
