I had finally set my feet on the ground of Gate City.
The air here felt different—thicker and heavier. The moment I walked out of the plane, the energy of this place hit me like a storm. Gate City wasn’t like Razor or Riversun. Gate city was bigger. Louder. More diverse. More alive. This city was a jungle of glass and steel, filled with predators, but I didn’t come here to admire them. I came here to dominate.
I strode through the airport, my steps sharp, deliberate. As the sliding doors opened, letting the roar of the city wash over me, a man rushed up, nearly stumbling in his eagerness.
“Sir where are you heading?” he asked.
I narrowed my gaze at him, then said the address clearly, “Number 14, Crestwood Avenue, Central Gate City.”
The man nodded quickly. “I’ll take you there, sir. C
