Sen De La

Under the protection of the Nine Dragons, corrupt officials, greedy corporations, and powerful criminal networks thrived. The Stars and their allies must navigate a world dominated by the Syndicate, where every move against them feels like it's made under the ever-watchful eye of the dragon.
Yet behind the Syndicate’s seemingly impenetrable power, cracks begin to form. Internal power struggles have been settled, and a new generation of successors has risen. But the world is not prepared for what comes next.
As rebellion brews quietly beneath the shadows, a hidden card is played—the ACE of Spades—a covert operation that unknowingly sets the foundation for The Phoenix Project, a global agenda that seeks to burn down the old world and rise anew from its ashes.
The new successors of the Nine Dragons are not just inheritors of legacy; they are architects of chaos. With the precision of visionaries and the ruthlessness of warlords, they manipulate economies, disrupt ecosystems, and infiltrate governments. Their ambitions no longer stop at Southeast Asia—they aim to shape the very future of humanity.
Beneath the dragon’s wing, the world appears calm. But the Stars know better:
This is not the end of the old order.
It is the beginning of something far more dangerous.

The Rise of the Nine Dragons - Under the Dragon's Wings

Not quite—silent. The kind of silence that came after a storm, after systems failed and life-support fell still. Not even the hum of cooling fans disturbed the thick, humming air. The glow of emergency lights cast everything in red and shadow, flickering across cables and cables like veins in a dying beast. 


A forest of shattered glass sparkled under Luo Jian’s bare feet as he paced between the skeletal remains of broken monitors, their cracked screens flickering with static. Blood marked each step he took, leaving red crescents behind him on the steel floor. He didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did and no longer cared. 


His coat, once a pristine white symbol of precision and vision, was now streaked with ash, oil, and old fire. A burn mark ran up his sleeve, and half of his collar was singed away. Still, he moved like a ghost haunting his sanctum. 


The Line Between Genius and Madness