The moment the hooded figure stepped forward, the room's temperature seemed to drop. Every instinct in Ochieng's body screamed danger.
Without hesitation, he moved.
A silver glint flashed in the dim light as the assassin struck, his blade aimed directly at Ochieng's heart. But Ochieng was faster. With a single step, he twisted his body, narrowly dodging the deadly strike.
The assassin's eyes widened—just for a fraction of a second.
And that was enough.
Ochieng's hand shot out like lightning, gripping the assassin's wrist with bone-crushing force. A sickening crack echoed through the hall as the dagger clattered to the marble floor.
Before the assassin could react, Ochieng delivered a brutal elbow strike to his ribs, sending him crashing into a nearby pillar.
Silence.
The Seven Titans watched. None of them moved. None of them interfered.
This was a test.
A test of whether Ochieng truly belonged in their world.
The assassin groaned, trying to rise. But Ochieng wasn't done. In a blur of motion, he stepped forward, planting a foot against the man's chest, pinning him down.
"Who sent you?" His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a storm.
The assassin spat blood but said nothing.
Ochieng's eyes darkened. He pressed down harder.
"Who. Sent. You."
Still, no answer.
But Ochieng didn't need one. He already knew.
His gaze lifted, locking onto the one person who had everything to gain from this attack.
Sienna.
She met his stare with feigned innocence, but he saw the flicker of unease in her eyes.
"You planned this," Ochieng murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sienna took a step back. "You can't possibly think—"
Before she could finish, Ochieng grabbed the fallen dagger and, with precise aim, hurled it. The blade embedded itself into the wall just inches from her face.
She flinched.
The room tensed.
Ochieng turned away, addressing the Seven Titans instead. "Is this the kind of welcome you offer me?"
Shen Baojun chuckled. "Consider it a lesson, young one."
Ochieng smirked. "Then let me teach you one in return."
In the blink of an eye, he lifted the assassin by the collar and sent him hurtling across the room—directly at Don Vittorio.
The mafia king barely moved as the body landed at his feet.
The message was clear.
Ochieng wasn't just here to take a seat at the table.
He was here to take over.
The balance of power had shifted.
And the world was about to feel it.
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