Kidnapping

Ye Feng arrived in front of a dimly lit warehouse, the surrounding area nearly deserted except for a few passing vehicles. He walked up to the gate where two thugs stood guard, their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of a nearby streetlamp.

"Who are you?" one of the guards asked, his tone wary.

"Hades," Ye Feng replied in a calm yet chilling voice.

The moment the name left his lips, the guards visibly stiffened. The message had already spread throughout the gang—Hei Long had made it clear that Hades was their true boss now. They were to treat him with even more respect than Hei Long himself.

"P-Please, Boss," one of the thugs stammered, quickly stepping aside while gesturing toward the entrance.

Ye Feng didn't spare them a glance and walked inside.

The warehouse was surprisingly well-lit. Around twenty thugs stood scattered throughout the space, watching intently. In the center, a chair was positioned beneath a single overhead light. Bound tightly to it was a man with bloodied bruises marking his face—Harold.

Hei Long sat casually in front of him, but the moment Ye Feng entered, he stood up, stepping aside to his superior.

Ye Feng walked forward, his cold gaze locked onto Harold. The young man's initial shock at seeing him quickly morphed into rage as he pieced the situation together.

"Ye Feng! I know this is your doing!" Harold spat, his voice laced with anger and defiance. "Let me go right now, or my father will make you regret it!"

Ye Feng, already irritated from the day's events with Nyx, felt his patience snap. A slow smirk curled on his lips before—

BAM!

A brutal punch landed squarely on Harold's nose, a sickening crunch echoing through the warehouse. Blood gushed instantly, staining his already torn shirt.

"Why are you barking so loudly?" Ye Feng asked, his voice smooth, almost amused.

BAM!

A second punch followed, sending Harold's head snapping backward.

"Don't you know it's nighttime? You'll wake the neighbors."

BAM!

Then another.

BAM! BAM!

After two more devastating blows, Ye Feng withdrew his hand. Harold's face was a swollen mess, nearly unrecognizable. His consciousness wavered, blood dripping from his nose and mouth, a few teeth missing.

Ye Feng took a step back, lighting a cigarette as he watched Harold struggle to stay conscious.

"Now, what was that about your father not sparing me?" Ye Feng asked nonchalantly, exhaling a puff of smoke.

But Harold who was almost unconsious did not hear anything.

"Thunk"

Ye feng delieverd another blow , this time in his stomach forcing the air out of his lungs.

Harold who was almost unconsious , regained a bit of clarity due to the pain.

Gone was the arrogance. Only pure terror remained in his eyes. He grew up in an environment where he never got hit in his life , every of his wish was fulfilled .Getting beaten with such a cruelty mad him tremble in fear.

"P-Please… Ye Feng… let me go," he stammered, his voice hoarse and desperate. "I-I'll do whatever you want. My father is rich… I can give you money—name your price!"

Ye Feng raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He had intended to eliminate Harold tonight, but the mention of money made him reconsider.

"How much is your life worth ?" he asked, his tone casual but carrying an underlying threat.

Harold saw a sliver of hope and clung to it. "T-Ten million dollars!"

Ye Feng chuckled, shaking his head. The look in his eyes made it clear—Harold had lowballed the price of his own life.

Panic set in once more. "T-Twenty million! Please!"

Ye Feng took another puff, exhaling slowly before speaking. "Listen, I'm not here to negotiate. Fifty million. That's the price. If your father doesn't pay up, you'll be fish food by morning."

He turned to Hei Long. "Give him a phone."

Hei Long, who had remained silent the entire time, immediately pulled a phone from his pocket. Walking over to Harold, he loosened the bindings on one of his hands and placed the phone in his trembling grip.

Harold, still shaking, now realized the truth—Ye Feng wasn't just someone who hired thugs. He wasn't paying the gang for this job. He was in charge. The way Hei Long deferred to him, the way the men watched in silence, the way his words carried unquestionable authority—it all became terrifyingly clear.

With trembling fingers, Harold dialed a number, praying his father would answer.

Ye Feng took another slow puff of his cigarette, watching Harold with amusement as he shakily dialed his father's number. The call connected, and Harold's voice came out broken and desperate.

"Dad! P-please… send fifty million dollars! They'll kill me if you don't!"

On the other end, his father, an influential businessman in the U.S.,instantly reccognised his son's voice, he roared in anger and panic. "Who dares touch my son? I'll—"

A sharp sound interrupted him—Ye Feng tapping his cigarette against the ashtray. He exhaled a thin stream of smoke and leaned forward, his voice calm but commanding. "Mr. whoever you are i don't give a fuck, let's skip the threats. You have twenty minutes to transfer the money. No police, no tracking. Just do it, and your son walks away. Delay or try anything foolish… and, well, you'll be mourning your son."

There was silence on the line, then heavy breathing. Harold's father was a shrewd man; he knew when he had no leverage.

"Fine," he finally gritted out. "Where do you want it?"

Ye Feng turned to Hei Long. "Make sure the transfer is clean. No traces."

Hei Long, who had been standing attentively, nodded and immediately pulled out a secure laptop from a drawer. He connected to an encrypted offshore banking network through a virtual private server, routing the transaction through multiple shell companies spread across different continents. With an intricate mix of crypto laundering and high-frequency trading obscuring the origins, the money would be untraceable before it even reached its final account. The entire process took only twenty minutes.

"Boss," Hei Long said, glancing at the screen. "The funds are secured. No way to track them."

Ye Feng smirked. "Good."

He turned his gaze back to Harold, who had been watching the entire exchange with eyes filled with fear and hopelessness. He took out another cigrette , lighting it and took a puff.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" Ye Feng said mockingly. "Now, let's finish our business."

He stretched out his hand. "Give me a knife."

Hei Long didn't hesitate. He pulled a sharp combat knife from his belt and handed it over with a slight bow.

Ye Feng tested the weight of the blade before crouching down in front of Harold. "You thought money could buy your life," he murmured. "But some debts… can only be repaid in blood."

With a swift movement, he slashed Harold's thigh, making him scream in agony. The blade bit deep, but Ye Feng was careful—not fatal, not yet.

"You thought you could get away , from hitting me," Ye Feng continued, making another precise cut, this time along Harold's arm. The screams grew weaker, his body trembling violently as blood dripped onto the cold floor. "This is just interest."

After a few more deliberate wounds, Ye Feng finally sighed and stood up, wiping the bloodied blade on Harold's expensive shirt.

"Enough playing." He tilted Harold's chin up with the knife. "You're worthless now."

With one swift motion, he slit Harold's throat. Blood gushed out in violent spurts as Harold made a sickening gurgling sound. His body convulsed for a few moments before finally going limp.

Ye Feng took another drag from his cigarette, exhaled, and turned to Hei Long. "Get rid of him. Feed him to the fishes.Leave No traces."

Hei Long, unfazed, gestured to his men. They immediately got to work, wrapping Harold's body in a heavy plastic sheet. Within minutes, they carried him out towards the docks, where the sea would erase all evidence of his existence.

Ye Feng watched them leave before flicking his cigarette onto the bloodstained floor, crushing it under his heel.

Another loose end tied up. Another problem erased.