Night draped its velvet curtain over Tokyo, and the city pulsed with life.
In the heart of Roppongi, a glass palace of sin rose like a diamond serpent — The Crimson Mirage Casino.
From the outside, it glittered — gold-framed entrances, a flood of neon light, and an unending procession of black cars. Inside, it was another world.
The air shimmered with smoke, perfume, and the metallic scent of money. Laughter and curses tangled above the rhythmic hum of slot machines.
Roulette wheels spun like hypnotic eyes, and cards slapped against polished mahogany tables, each sound a promise of either fortune or destruction.
High-rollers in silk suits pressed fat stacks of yen onto the table, while girls in short sequined dresses carried champagne worth more than most men's yearly salaries.
In dimmer corners, where the light never reached, darker transactions took place — quiet exchanges of briefcases, whispered deals about guns and routes, debts and death.
Beyond the noise and glamour, behind a red-velvet rope guarded by armed men, was a private corridor — quiet, cold, and heavy with danger.
It led to the Dragon Chamber, a secret VIP lounge known only to those who had power worth killing for.
Tonight, Qi Xiyue sat there.
He was lounging on a deep-black leather sofa, cigarette smoke coiling lazily in front of his face. The light from the chandelier above cast fractured shadows across his sharp, god-like features.
He wore a tailored dark suit, the kind that whispered money and danger. His silver cufflinks glinted faintly, each engraved with a single black dragon — his insignia.
Across from him sat Takeshi Rando, a Japanese underworld lord, famous for smuggling and arms dealing. Sweat dotted the man's forehead as he forced a smile. Between them, a briefcase of black titanium sat unopened on the table.
"Five million dollars, as agreed," Takeshi said in broken Mandarin. "A partnership between our empires — imagine the power, Black Monarch."
Qi Xiyue exhaled slowly, his voice low and smooth. "Power?" he said with a faint smirk. "You talk of power as if it's something you can buy, Takeshi. Power isn't traded. It's taken."
Takeshi's smile faltered. His men tensed, their hands subtly moving toward their coats.
Qi Xiyue leaned back, almost lazy, his dark eyes narrowing slightly — like a predator scenting betrayal long before it struck.
"Tell me, Takeshi," he murmured, tapping ash into a crystal tray. "Do you truly believe I came here unguarded?"
Takeshi's hand froze halfway to his glass.
Then — chaos.
Gunfire exploded, echoing like thunder through the luxurious room. Bullets tore through velvet curtains, shattering bottles and chandeliers. Takeshi's men drew their weapons, but before any could aim properly, Qi Xiyue's guards — silent, efficient phantoms in black — erupted from the shadows.
They didn't hesitate. Each shot was clean, precise, and final.
Blood splattered against marble, mixing with spilled wine and shards of crystal.
Takeshi tried to scramble for his gun, cursing, but a bullet ripped through his shoulder before he could raise it. He howled, clutching the wound.
Qi Xiyue rose calmly from the sofa, brushing his coat sleeve as if the chaos around him was merely background noise. His eyes glinted — deep, sharp, unreadable.
He crossed the room with measured steps, ignoring the gunfire that still popped in the distance. He stopped in front of the trembling man who had dared to plan his ambush.
"Takeshi," he said softly, crouching to meet his terrified gaze. "Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"
The man stammered, "It—it wasn't me, it was—"
A single gunshot silenced him.
Qi Xiyue didn't even blink.
He stood, sliding the gun back into his coat. "Clean it up," he said to his men. His tone was flat, absolute.
"Yes, Monarch," came the immediate response.
Outside the private lounge, the casino had descended into pandemonium.
People screamed and ran as gunmen swept through, executing the rival faction members. The roulette wheels still spun amid the chaos, red and black reflecting flashes of muzzle fire.
When the echoes of violence finally faded, silence fell — heavy, suffocating, and absolute.
The Crimson Mirage was now nothing but smoke and ruin.
Dozens of men lay scattered on the floor, their blood mingling with spilled whiskey and crushed chips.
Qi Xiyue stepped through the mess, his expression calm, his steps unhurried.
A female underboss, beautiful but venomous, staggered toward him, trembling.
"Please, Monarch," she begged, trying to kneel before him. "Spare me. I can serve you—"
Her voice cut short as his hand snapped forward — the dagger at his belt flashing once.
She collapsed silently, eyes wide, disbelief frozen on her face.
"Never touch what's mine," Qi Xiyue said coldly, flicking blood from the blade.
His men said nothing. None dared breathe too loudly.
Hours later, the private airfield outside Osaka was alive with motion.
Under the floodlights, a sleek black private jet waited, its emblem, a dark dragon with burning eyes gleaming on the tail.
Qi Xiyue boarded first. Inside, the cabin was exquisite: dark leather seats, mahogany tables, gold-plated fixtures. A faint scent of cedar and smoke hung in the air.
He loosened his tie and sank into a seat near the window. The city lights below flickered as the engines roared to life.
A subordinate — tall, suited, expressionless, approached quietly and handed him a folder.
"Boss," he said respectfully. "About the girl."
Qi Xiyue opened it with one hand, his eyes scanning the neat rows of text.
Inside the file: Su Ning.
The report was… disappointing.
Name, school, current residence, a few public photos — and nothing else.
His brows knit faintly.
"She's a high schooler," he murmured. "And yet you're telling me even our best data hunters can't trace her background?"
The man nodded nervously. "Yes, Monarch. We searched every database — government, financial, even global surveillance links. Her trail ends abruptly. Someone's protecting her."
Qi Xiyue's expression didn't change, but the air around him grew heavier.
In his world, information was absolute power — and anyone who could hide from him was no ordinary person.
He flipped through the thin file again, his gaze lingering on a photo — Su Ning, in her school uniform, eyes calm and proud, standing beside a girl with soft dark hair.
"She doesn't look like someone who hides," he said quietly. "No fear in her eyes. No greed either."
He closed the folder and leaned back, fingers tapping the armrest.
"She saved my life," he continued, half to himself. "And she doesn't even know who I am. Interesting."
The subordinate hesitated. "Shall we continue digging, Boss?"
Qi Xiyue's lips curved slightly — a smile both dangerous and amused.
"Of course. But don't alarm her. I don't want her to run… not yet."
He turned to the window, watching the endless night sky as the jet began its ascent.
Below, the ruined casino was just another memory — another body buried under his empire of shadows.
In the reflection of the glass, his dark eyes gleamed like obsidian.
In the underworld, the name Black Monarch was whispered with reverence and terror alike.
To his enemies, he was a ghost, a storm, a judgment day that walked in human form.
Although he was just twenty four, he was feared, he didn't just rule the criminal world — he owned it.
From Tokyo to Moscow, from New York to Dubai — drug empires, mercenary armies, cyber syndicates — even ministers to presidents, business magnates all owed their loyalty, directly or indirectly, to The Black Monarch.
He controlled borders, markets, and men's ambitions.
Governments turned blind eyes. Bankers washed his money in gold. Generals sought his favors.
And yet, as he stared out into the night sky, all he could think about was a girl — the girl who dared to stand before his presence, unflinching.
Her calm voice. Her steady eyes. The faint scent of her hair in the wind that night.
Something in her didn't fit in his dark, ruthless world — and perhaps that was why he couldn't get her out of his head.
Qi Xiyue chuckled softly, shaking his head.
"Su Ning," he murmured. "Who exactly are you?"
The jet soared higher, slicing through clouds like a silent beast.
Far below, the world slept — unaware that its greatest shadow had turned his gaze toward a high school girl who might not be as ordinary as she seemed.
And for the first time in a long while, the Black Monarch smiled — not in cruelty, but in curiosity.