The mont the doors slamd shut behind us, I pulled out both of my Desert Eagle pistols, the cold weight of the steel resting perfectly in my hands.
"Stay close to if you don't want to die."
Abigail nodded silently, her fear evident, but she kept herself composed.
I kicked open the main doors, stepping into the dimly lit corridor of the mansion. The air was thick with the stench of blood and dust, and the faint glow of dying candlelight flickered from the chandeliers above.
Sothing was watching us. I could feel it.
Then— movent.
My Eagle Eyes activated instantly, sharpening my perception. Two figures erged from the shadows, their movents silent, their blades reflecting the candlelight. Assassins.
I didn't hesitate.
BANG! BANG!
Two quick shots—perfect accuracy.
The first assassin's skull exploded, his body hitting the floor before he could even register his own death.
The second twisted his body, barely avoiding the bullet—but I was already moving.
I sidestepped, pivoting my body as he lunged forward with his dagger. With a flick of my wrist, I slamd the barrel of my gun into his temple, stunning him for a brief second—just enough ti.
BANG!
I pulled the trigger, blowing a hole straight through his skull.
His lifeless body crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
I exhaled, reloading my pistols in a blink, the magazine sliding into place with a tallic click.
Then, the real fight began.
The mont the two bodies hit the floor, the entire mansion ca alive.
Doors creaked open. Footsteps echoed from the upper floors. The faint whisper of **blades being unsheathed** filled the air.
And then—they ca.
Six assassins, moving like shadows, weapons drawn, eyes locked onto .
I grinned. "Now we're talking."
One of them lunged forward, his katana slicing toward my throat.
I tilted my head back just an inch, letting the blade miss by a hair's breadth—then I retaliated.
CRACK!
I slamd the butt of my pistol into his wrist, shattering bone. His katana dropped, and before he could react, I grabbed his head—and snapped his neck.
Another ca at from the side.
I caught his wrist mid-strike, twisting it violently, forcing him to drop his dagger. I used his own montum—slamming my knee into his gut, then firing a bullet straight into his chest.
BANG!
He staggered back, choking on his own blood, before collapsing.
Three more surrounded .
I threw my empty magazine into one's face, montarily distracting him before twisting and firing my second pistol at the one behind .
BANG!
A headshot—clean and brutal.
The one I distracted recovered quickly, lunging at with a pair of daggers, his movents fast and precise.
But I was faster.
I holstered one pistol and caught his wrist mid-air, twisting his arm behind his back with a sickening crack.
He scread—only for a second.
I shoved my pistol under his chin and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
His head snapped back violently, and his body **dropped lifelessly to the floor**.
The last assassin hesitated for a second—just enough ti for to close the distance.
I didn't use my gun.
I used my fists.
I ducked under his attack, my muscles coiling like a spring before I delivered a brutal elbow strike to his ribs— shattering them instantly.
As he stumbled, gasping in pain, I spun—my foot slamming into his throat with enough force to send him flying into the nearby wall.
His body twitched for a mont—then stopped moving.
Silence.
I exhaled, rolling my shoulders as I glanced around the carnage.
Bodies lay scattered across the floor, pools of blood painting the wooden panels beneath us.
Abigail stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock.
She had never seen this side of before.
"Let's keep moving," I said, calmly reloading my pistols.
She didn't argue. She simply nodded and followed.
And as we stepped deeper into the mansion, I knew one thing—
The real threat was still waiting for us.
The instant I sensed the shift in the air, I knew what was coming.
Gunfire.
"Take cover!" I barked, grabbing Abigail by the arm and shoving her behind a crumbling pillar just as a storm of bullets tore through the air.
The sound of the machine gun's rapid fire roared through the hallway, bullets ripping into the walls, shattering ancient wooden panels and sending splinters flying.
I pressed my back against the pillar, my mind working fast.
The shooter was positioned ahead, likely at the end of the corridor, using the long hallway as a kill zone.
A smart strategy.
But I wasn't just anyone.
I peeked for a split second—enough to analyze.
One man. A heavy machine gun mounted on a bipod. Steel-plated vest. Night vision goggles.
A professional.
Good. That makes this fun.
I glanced at Abigail. She was breathing heavily, her hands gripping the fabric of her dress tightly, but she wasn't panicking.
"Stay low and don't move until I say so."
She gave a short nod, trusting despite everything.
"How do we get past this?" she asked, her voice tense but steady.
I smirked. "By making him realize he brought the wrong weapon."
I took another glance, calculating.
The bullets were hitting the stone walls, but there was a slight pattern—a pause in his bursts, likely from recoil compensation.
A two-second gap.
That was all I needed.
I exhaled slowly. One shot. One chance.
As soon as I heard the brief pause in his firing pattern, I moved.
I rolled out from cover, raising both of my Desert Eagles mid-motion.
*LTwo seconds.
My Eagle Eyes activated instantly, everything slowing down in my mind.
One bullet.
I fired at a hanging chandelier, watching as the thick chain snapped. The massive structure swung downward, slamming into the hallway floor and sending a shockwave of dust and debris into the air.
One second.
The shooter flinched, montarily losing sight of .
I was already **mid-air**, launching myself off the wall, twisting my body as I fired—
BANG!
First shot—direct hit.
His night vision shattered, the lens cracking from the impact.
Half a second left.
He cursed, his hands reaching for his sidearm—
Not fast enough.
BANG!
The second shot tore through his shoulder, forcing him back.
Before he could recover, I was already in front of him.
I kicked his machine gun aside, grabbing his wrist before he could draw his pistol. With a sharp twist, I snapped his elbow backward, earning a scream of pain.
I spun behind him, wrapping my arm around his throat in a brutal chokehold.
"You picked the wrong hallway," I whispered coldly into his ear.
Then, without hesitation, I twisted sharply—
A sickening snap.
His body slumped lifelessly to the floor.
I exhaled, shaking the blood off my hands before turning back toward Abigail.
She was still in cover, watching with wide, unreadable eyes.
I motioned for her to co out.
"We're clear."
She hesitated for a mont before stepping forward. Her gaze flickered between and the body on the ground, her lips slightly parted.
"You... you planned that in seconds,"she muttered. "Like you've done it a thousand tis before."
I smirked, holstering my guns. "Ms. Bardot, you have no idea."
She didn't respond.
She didn't need to.
Because for the first ti—she wasn't just seeing as Samuel Gebb.
She was seeing for what I truly was.
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