Chapter Twenty-seven: The Final Sweep

The battle at the western suburb warehouse had finally settled. The metallic scent of blood still lingered in the air, mingling with the acrid smell of gunpowder. Lin Feng stood amidst the fallen men in black, his expression unreadable, his gaze sharp and cold. The warehouse was now silent, except for the occasional groans of the wounded. His enemies, once loyal followers of Shadow, had failed in their last desperate attempt to turn the tide.

They had underestimated him.

Shadow's subordinates had fought to rescue their comrades, but instead, they had only provided Lin Feng with more opportunities to crush them. This was not just a battle; it was a message—a warning to anyone who still dared to stand in his way.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it with steady hands. Taking a slow drag, he exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching as it dissipated into the night air. Without turning his gaze, he spoke to his second-in-command.

"Take the survivors back to the office building. I want to know everything about them—who they are, what they know, and where the rest of them are hiding."

"Yes, Master Feng!"

The subordinate quickly gestured for the team to move. They hauled the captured men to their feet, binding their hands and dragging them toward the waiting vehicles. Some resisted, weakly struggling against their restraints, but it was futile. They were already broken.

Lin Feng walked to his car, slipping into the driver's seat. The city lights flickered in the distance, a stark contrast to the darkness he was about to unravel. With Shadow now out of the picture, another threat had emerged—Phantom. And Lin Feng knew that the game was far from over.

The pieces were still in motion.

Interrogation

The office building's underground interrogation room was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows across the cold cement walls. The air smelled of dampness and sweat. Three of the captured men sat tied to chairs, their faces pale with terror. Their breathing was ragged, their wrists bruised from the ropes.

Lin Feng stepped inside, his presence suffocating. His eyes, dark and piercing, scanned the prisoners with quiet intensity.

"Talk." His voice was calm but carried an undeniable weight. "How many of you are left?"

One of the men shuddered, his voice barely above a whisper. "W-We were Shadow's elite squad… Fifty men in total. Now, only about twenty of us remain. The rest… you killed them."

A ghost of a smirk played at Lin Feng's lips. "Twenty? Where are they hiding?"

The man swallowed hard, sweat dripping down his temples. "T-There's a backup base… at the southern mining district… That's where the rest of us are stationed."

Lin Feng's eyes narrowed. "The southern district?" He nodded slowly, as if committing the location to memory. "Looks like I'll have to make a trip there."

Turning to his bespectacled lieutenant, he ordered, "Take a team to the southern district. Burn it to the ground."

The man adjusted his glasses and gave a firm nod. "Understood, Master Feng."

As Lin Feng left the basement, his younger sister, Lin Xue'er, appeared at the top of the stairs. Her delicate features were clouded with concern. "Brother, you caught more of them?"

Lin Feng met her gaze with a calm, almost indifferent expression. "Just a few rats. But they still have one last nest. I'm going to wipe it out."

Xue'er hesitated for a moment before nodding. Though she worried for his safety, she knew better than to question him. Lin Feng had always been relentless, and nothing would stop him now.

He grabbed his coat and signaled to his men. It was time to end this once and for all.

The Final Assault

The night was deep, the darkness swallowing the desolate mining district like a beast waiting to strike. Cold winds howled through the abandoned buildings, rattling loose metal sheets and sending dust swirling through the air. The entire area reeked of rust, oil, and decay.

Lin Feng's car came to a halt a few hundred meters from an old warehouse. Its exterior was worn down, the paint peeling, the windows shattered. But despite its neglected appearance, Lin Feng knew that inside, his enemies were waiting.

His second-in-command leaned in, speaking in a low voice. "Master Feng, they're in there."

Lin Feng exhaled slowly. "Then let's not keep them waiting."

He moved forward, his elite team following like shadows. Their movements were soundless, calculated. They spread out, encircling the warehouse, ensuring no one would escape.

Inside, more than twenty men in black were busy inspecting weapons, loading ammunition, and preparing for a fight they didn't yet realize had already begun. They had no idea that death was already at their doorstep.

The moment Lin Feng stepped into the room, every head turned. Silence fell like a shroud.

The man leading them—tall, rugged, with a scarred face and a single eye—let out a low, cold laugh. "Lin Feng. You really don't know when to quit, do you?"

Lin Feng smirked. "Finding you was the easy part. Shadow is already on his knees. What makes you think you still have a chance?"

The one-eyed man's face twisted in fury. "Kill him!"

The air exploded with violence.

Lin Feng surged forward, weaving through his enemies with inhuman speed. His fists struck like lightning, breaking ribs, dislocating joints, crushing resistance. A blade swung toward him—he dodged, countering with a brutal elbow to the attacker's temple. The man crumpled to the ground.

The one-eyed man roared in rage, lunging at Lin Feng with a machete. But Lin Feng sidestepped effortlessly, his footwork precise. He struck, his fist slamming into the man's face, sending him sprawling. Blood splattered across the cold cement.

Within moments, the battle was over.

Lin Feng stood over the fallen leader, his boot pressing down on the man's chest. "How many of you are left?"

The man coughed, blood trickling from his lips. "No one… We were the last…"

Lin Feng exhaled slowly, letting the words settle. "Then you're useless to me."

He lifted his foot and brought it down hard. The man fell into unconsciousness.

His second-in-command approached. "Master Feng, it's done. Shall we search the place?"

Lin Feng nodded. "Search everything. Bring back anything useful."

Lighting another cigarette, he took a slow drag, his thoughts shifting to the bigger picture. The Shadow Syndicate was finished in Jiangcheng.

Now, there was only one enemy left.

Phantom.

The Next Move

Back at the office building, Lin Xue'er was waiting at the entrance. As soon as Lin Feng stepped inside, she hurried over. "Brother, how did it go?"

Lin Feng removed his coat, tossing it over a chair. His expression was calm, yet there was a sharpness in his gaze—an anticipation for the battle ahead.

"It's over," he said simply. "The Shadow Syndicate has been wiped out."

Xue'er's shoulders relaxed in relief. But before she could speak, Lin Feng continued.

"Now… it's Phantom's turn."

And with those words, the next battle had already begun.