My Ares Son-in-Law

With a deafening roar, the countless hard ironwood fragments, as if controlled by an invisible and extremely violent force, transformed into a deadly rainstorm, accompanied by a chilling shriek as they tore through the air.

The torrential rain showed no mercy, shooting wildly towards everyone in the hall, as if to devour them all in this destructive storm.

Some of the fragments, like venomous snakes with eyes, pierced the surrounding mahogany walls with chilling precision, "thud! thud! thud!"

The sound was both crisp and dull, like the tolling of death's bell.

Each "snap" was accompanied by a spray of wood chips from the mahogany wall, the fragments embedding themselves deep into the wall, about an inch deep, as if trying to carve their terrifying mark on it.

Other fragments, like projectiles thrown by Death, grazed people's scalps and cheeks.

They were so fast that people didn't have time to react. They only felt a sharp gust of wind, followed by a burning pain on their face.

The bloodstains, like blooming red flowers, stood out starkly against the chaotic scene.

The appearance of bloodstains was accompanied by terrified screams, voices filled with fear and despair, as if they had already witnessed the arrival of death.

"Who dares?!"

A roar, like a thunderclap, resounded in the council hall; it was the outburst of anger and fear from the depths of the Black Phoenix organization's members.

Who dares to defy the Grand Duke Jupiter and smash the gates that symbolize supreme authority at the Black Phoenix Organization's headquarters?!

For the Black Phoenix Organization, this gate is not only a physical barrier, but also a symbol of their power and status.

Now that it has been ruthlessly smashed, it is tantamount to someone slapping them hard in the face in front of them, and it is also a death sentence pronounced on the entire Black Phoenix Organization!
"Damn it! Who's got a death wish?!"

A burly, fleshy-faced gang leader stared wide-eyed, veins bulging on his forehead, as he roared angrily.

His voice was rough and hoarse, like the roar of an angry beast.

"Are all the people outside dead?! How are they guarding the gate?!"

Another gang member, with a pointed face and cunning eyes, jumped up and down while loudly questioning them.

His face was filled with panic and anger, as if he felt that the guards outside were the culprits behind this disaster.

"Damn it! I want to see which fool dares to break into the Black Phoenix Organization's gates!"

Another thug with a fierce face, wielding a long knife, brandished his weapon and said menacingly.

His eyes revealed a crazed killing intent, as if he wished he could tear the person who dared to provoke the Black Phoenix Organization to pieces immediately.

The entire council chamber erupted instantly, filled with shouts, curses, and gasps of surprise, creating a chaotic and noisy cacophony.

Just moments before, the gang leaders had been immersed in their dreams of controlling the ancient city's economic lifeline and becoming uncrowned kings. Now, they were like frightened hyenas, filled with shock and rage. Their faces had lost their previous smugness and arrogance, replaced by fear and fury.

They all grabbed whatever they could find, some with sharp long knives, some with heavy iron rods, and others with sharp daggers.

Their eyes were bloodshot, like a pack of angry beasts, all staring at the broken, dusty doorway, as if they wanted to burn the person who dared to break in to ashes with their gaze.

Thick sawdust and dust had not yet completely settled, like an eerie veil covering the breach.

The dust drifted slowly in the air, like a group of ghosts lingering, adding a mysterious and terrifying atmosphere to the whole scene.

Amidst the hazy dust, a figure, like a demon forged from the lava of hell, slowly and clearly emerged.

As the figure's outline gradually became clear amidst the billowing dust, like a ghost slowly emerging from the abyss of darkness, the clamor that had been churning like boiling water in the council hall abruptly ceased, as if gripped by an invisible yet incredibly powerful hand.

The previously noisy shouts, roars, and gasps of surprise vanished instantly, leaving only a chilling silence.

Immediately afterwards, a chill emanating from the depths of my bones, like a venomous snake, rapidly climbed up my spine, instantly covering my entire body.

The chill froze everyone's thoughts, leaving those who were still shouting angrily and ready to attack with blank minds; it also froze their movements, their hands that were gripping their weapons and assuming an attack stance now stiff as wooden carvings, unable to move an inch.

The figure was not tall; in fact, it appeared somewhat thin compared to the burly members of the Black Phoenix organization.

However, he carried an indescribable, terrifying aura, an aura that seemed to have been carefully nurtured from mountains of corpses and seas of blood, carrying the cries and despair of countless lives, and the cold and cruel breath of death.

The mere outline was like an invisible giant net, enveloping the entire council hall. Everyone present felt as if they were being watched closely by the Grim Reaper, becoming trembling prey under that terrifying aura. This outline was enough to become a nightmare that they could never shake off for the rest of their lives, even waking them up in their sleep with cold sweat soaking their beds.

As the figure slowly emerged from the dust, everyone finally saw clearly that it was a young man wearing a well-tailored black trench coat.

This trench coat should have been a deep and austere black, symbolizing mystery and majesty, but at this moment, it was mercilessly soaked in large swaths of viscous, dark red liquid.

The liquid reflected a nauseating luster in the dim light; upon closer inspection, it was clearly blood!

Some of the stains had dried out, like dark red rust, clinging tightly to the trench coat and emitting a pungent, putrid smell; others were fresh, still slowly flowing, meandering down the folds of the trench coat like streams of blood.

The layers upon layers of bloodstains seemed to tell the story of countless brutal battles, making one wonder what kind of bloody massacre he had experienced before emerging from a boiling pool of blood.

Even the hem of the trench coat was dripping with blood. The blood droplets fell to the floor with a "drip-drip" sound, like the countdown of death. Each drop struck people's hearts, making their heartbeats quicken involuntarily, and fear spread like a tide.

What's even more chilling is what he's carrying.

His expression was indifferent, his eyes cold, as if he were holding not a corpse, but an insignificant object.

He casually, as if discarding a piece of trash, flicked his arm, and a limp, bloodied corpse was tossed inside. (End of Chapter)