The Silent Arrival – Chapter 37 Predator vs. Predator

---

The alley was silent, save for the rhythmic echoes of footsteps. Blood stained the ground, a stark contrast against the pale glow of the streetlights.

Lucien stood still, his gaze locked onto the figure before him—the last remnant of Daggerbone.

The man was breathing heavily, pressing a bloodied hand to his side where Lucien had already cut him once. He wasn't dead yet. But he would be soon.

"You're out of options," Lucien said, his voice calm, measured.

The man gritted his teeth, looking around for an escape. None existed.

Lucien took a step forward, raising his knife. "Speak."

"I—"

Before the man could finish, a blur of movement shot past Lucien's vision. A figure emerged from the darkness—a presence laced with danger and arrogance.

Lucien didn't even need to turn to recognize him.

"Forget him," a deep, amused voice spoke. "I'm the one you should be fighting."

Lucien's blade hovered over his captive's throat, but he hesitated for just a second—long enough for the Daggerbone assassin to make his escape into the shadows.

Lucien's eyes followed his movements, his instincts screaming for him to chase. But the presence beside him was not one he could ignore.

He turned his head slightly. "Vance."

Vance smirked, stepping into the dim alley light. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, and his knuckles were already wrapped—he had come prepared for a fight.

"I've been waiting for this," Vance said, cracking his fingers. "Just you and me. No distractions."

Lucien exhaled slowly. His knife spun once in his fingers before he tucked it away. If Vance wanted a clean fight, Lucien would oblige.

"Your mistake," Lucien muttered, shifting into a stance.

Vance grinned. "We'll see."

And then he charged.

---

Vance moved first, throwing a powerful right hook aimed at Lucien's jaw. Lucien ducked, pivoting smoothly as he countered with a sharp elbow to Vance's ribs.

The impact landed, but Vance barely flinched. He retaliated with a knee strike, forcing Lucien to leap back.

The two circled each other, analyzing, calculating.

Then they clashed again.

Lucien dodged a flurry of strikes, weaving through Vance's attacks with inhuman precision. But Vance was relentless—strong, aggressive, and unshaken.

A feint.

Vance pretended to aim for Lucien's ribs but suddenly switched to an uppercut.

Lucien barely avoided it, but the knuckles still grazed his chin, sending a sharp jolt through his jaw.

Vance smirked. "Not so untouchable now, huh?"

Lucien didn't answer. Instead, he struck low, sweeping Vance's legs out from under him. Vance hit the ground, but he rolled instantly, flipping back onto his feet.

The alley echoed with the sound of fists meeting flesh. Each strike was lethal. Each movement calculated.

For every attack Vance threw, Lucien had a counter.

And for every counter Lucien delivered, Vance endured it.

---

Eventually, the balance shifted.

Lucien's patience won over.

He adjusted, reading Vance's movements faster than Vance could adapt. The cracks in his opponent's form became clearer.

A well-timed sidestep.

A precise counterstrike.

A brutal takedown.

Vance landed hard, his back slamming onto the cold pavement. Lucien was on him in a second, pressing his blade against Vance's throat.

For the first time, the fight was over.

But Vance… was smiling.

"Heh…" He let out a weak chuckle. "You really are something else."

Lucien didn't react. His grip on the knife didn't waver.

Vance exhaled, his chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths. "But you're not the only one."

Lucien's gaze darkened. "What do you mean?"

Vance's lips curved into a smirk.

"…Red Fang is coming."

Silence.

Lucien's eyes narrowed. He didn't ask further. He didn't need to.

Vance's grin didn't fade, even as Lucien finally drove his knife home.

The light in his eyes dimmed. The smirk remained.

Then he was gone.

Lucien pulled the blade free, wiping the blood off as he rose to his feet. His gaze drifted to the sky.

"…Red Fang."

He turned away, his mind already working through his next move.

But first—he had something to take care of.

---

Hours later, Lucien stood on a rooftop overlooking the city.

The night breeze was cool, carrying the distant sounds of civilization below. He held a burner phone to his ear, listening to the static hum before a voice answered.

"Report."

Lucien's grip tightened slightly. His voice was steady.

"Daggerbone is gone. It no longer exists."

A pause. Then a quiet chuckle from the other end.

"Efficient, as always."

Lucien didn't respond. He had done his part. That was all they needed to know.

"What's next?" the voice asked.

Lucien's gaze drifted to the lights of the city.

"I'm staying here," he said. "There's still unfinished business."

He didn't mention Red Fang.

Not yet.

"…Understood," the voice replied. Then the line went dead.

Lucien lowered the phone. Crushed it in his palm.

As the device crumbled into pieces, he turned away from the view, stepping back into the shadows.

For now, his mission continued.

In silence.

In secrecy.

And with the knowledge that something far worse than Daggerbone was waiting.

---

End of Chapter 37.