Fyren heard the gunshots and instinctively bolted toward the sound with Zaring and Chloe. From afar, they heard hysterical laughter punctuated by sporadic gunfire. When they reached the clearing, a blood-soaked figure lay dying on the ground, while Hakan stood over him, cackling as he ordered his men to take turns torturing the wounded man.
Hakan stiffened. Committing such atrocities in the mountains meant risking exposure—and witnesses meant evidence. His men raised their guns, training them on Fyren.
Zaring shouldered his shotgun, shouting, "Freeze! Anyone who moves gets a round!"
Hakan sized them up: Fyren, Zaring, and a pale-faced Chloe who could barely stand. He laughed again. "Fyren, you show up everywhere, don't you?"
Gold King, barely conscious, cracked open an eye. He saw Fyren standing above him, gun drawn, facing Hakan's crew.
Fyren's voice shook. "Hakan—why kill while hunting?"
"Fuck off!" Hakan kicked Gold King in the face. "I killed him. So what? You got a problem?"
Outnumbered, Fyren pleaded, "Old classmate, let him go. He's just a mountain drifter—this isn't worth it."
"Ah, right!" Hakan jeered. "He didn't cross me, but you did! You and Eliza betrayed me, costing me over thirty billion. How do we square that?"
Fyren said, "I was wrong. I'll buy that company back for thirty-two billion. Deal?"
"Bullshit! You think I trust you?"
Zaring whispered, "Fyren, we can't win a firefight. Retreat!"
Fyren's guilt surged. I fired the first shot... he thought. If he dies, everyone will blame Hakan. But I know the truth. Panic gripped him. Outnumbered in the woods—if we fight, we're dead. Should I abandon him and run?
He turned to Chloe. "Go back to the car for my water bag." He needed to get her to safety.
But Hakan raised his rifle. "No one leaves! Move an inch, and I'll shoot!"
"Hakan!" Fyren roared. "She's just a girl—let her go! You want me!"
"Idiot!" Hakan screamed. "Do you think you can escape? Shoot them all!"
Fyren bellowed, "You dare! Bastard! I'm no mountain drifter! I'm Fyren—ask anyone in Crystalpeak City: who doesn't know Fyren, the shrewd businessman? My company knows I'm hunting here. If I die, the cops will comb this mountain—none of you will escape!"
The group froze. Fyren wasn't some nobody. If a drifter died here, their body might rot for decades. But Fyren's death would trigger a manhunt. Once investigators probed today's hunting permits, Hakan's crew would be prime suspects. Four lives at stake—this was a death sentence.
Hakan roared, "What's to fear? You're my brothers. With me, Hakan, the law can't touch you!"
Fyren fired back, "You're his cannon fodder! Think: Hakan might pay your families a million, but the Zhang family will offer ten billion for my killer! They'll hunt your loved ones. Wager your families' lives on him? Who's brave enough?!"
No one moved. Fyren was bluffing—his family had no such reach—but 谁敢赌?
"Shoot! Ignore him!" Hakan shrieked, raising his rifle. "I'll do it myself!"
Fyren recalled the Great Sage's Tiger-Subduing Fist. At this range, a master could strike in an instant. He exhaled, lunging forward. Hakan pulled the trigger, but Fyren batted the barrel with his gun stock. The bullet whizzed skyward.
In that heartbeat, the standoff shifted. Fyren's ferocity cowed the men—none dared fire first. Hakan missed his shot and now faced Fyren's gun. The tables had turned.
Hakan gaped at Fyren's speed. "Hey—Fyren, let's talk..."
"Fuck you—you tried to kill me! Hakan, what do you have to say now?"
"Fyren, I... I was just bluffing! I never meant to—this was an accident. The guy was hiding in the grass; I thought he was a beast. I wanted a trophy, that's all. Fyren, you know my position—I can't have a murder rap. We were classmates—don't do anything stupid!"
Fyren panted, "Tell them to lower their guns!"
"Lower your weapons! All of you—now!"
No one dared kill Fyren, nor let Hakan die. They lowered their guns.
"Zaring!" Fyren shouted.
Zaring rushed over, hands shaking, but quickly piled the weapons. He gave Chloe a gun for cover, then approached Fyren, aiming two rifles—one at Hakan, one at the lackeys. "What's the play, Fyren?"
Hakan interjected, "He's as good as dead. Dozens of bullets—you can't save him. He's just a drifter. No need to fight over—"
"Shut up!" Fyren smashed Hakan's jaw with his gun stock, sending him to the ground, blood trickling from his mouth. "Watch him," he told Zaring.
"On it. Move an inch, and his brains become fertilizer." Zaring planted a boot on Hakan's chest, muzzle to his temple. "I'm not your spineless goons. Try me."
Hakan wheezed, "I'm Hakan! Kill me, and your family—"
"Threaten me?" Zaring kicked his groin. "Heaven and earth, Fyren's my only brother. You're dirt to me."
As Fyren checked the wounded man, Hakan whispered, "I'll give you a hundred million. Join me."
Zaring scoffed.
"Five hundred million! A billion! Three billion—take three billion!"
"Save your breath. I wouldn't take your entire fortune."
Hakan seethed, "What does Fyren give you, huh?"
"Respect. Like family, like a brother. When others treated me like trash, Fyren saw me. When they called me beggar, he called me comrade. For Fyren, I'd spit in Death's eye. You think you're different?"
Fyren spun around, yelling, "Shut the fuck up, you moron!"
Zaring jabbed Hakan with his gun. "Hear that? Fyren told you to pipe down."
Hakan seethed. "He's cursing at you! Since when is that treating you like a man?"
"Fyren doesn't see me as an outsider!"
Hakan's eyes bulged. Is he delusional? Calling himself anything but a lackey—he's the poster boy for henchmen!
A light rain began to fall, washing over Gold King's face. Fyren looked up, cursing under his breath. Then he froze.
Chloe blurted out, "Gold King!?"
Gold King's gaze met Fyren's. For a heartbeat, they stared wordlessly.
[It's him? What the hell is he doing in Foolish Hill?] Fyren's mind raced, dark thoughts surfacing. [He's my sworn enemy. Out here, I don't need to lift a finger. Let Hakan finish him off—one less rival.]
[No guilt needed. I didn't pull the trigger. Those bastards did the dirty work. Besides, he's Mighty Syndicate—why save him?]
Gold King read Fyren's thoughts clearly. He stayed silent, staring back calmly. Words were useless now. If death was certain, let Fyren be his final witness. Better to die with dignity than beg. He closed his eyes.