The question kept spinning in my head. Was this man really an officer bribed by Gwenneth, or just an assassin hired to play the part?

In the end, it didn't matter. There was no way I would sit quietly and let him drive me to some deserted place to be executed. There was probably someone else waiting there to finish the job.

Once my resolve solidified, my body tensed on its own. As if sensing the shift in my intent, the man shifted his gaze slightly from the road. His eyes in the rearview mirror narrowed, cold and sharp, filled with a murderous decision.

He moved faster than I expected. I saw his finger tightening on the trigger.

My reflexes exploded.

My hand slapped the barrel of the gun aside at the same instant a faint click escaped the trigger.

Bang!

A small flash burst from the muzzle as the bullet shot out, tearing through the side window and leaving a long crack across the glass.

The driver hissed in anger and tried to fire again, but I didn't give him the chance. My body acted on instinct. With my current strength, equal to that of a Rank S Awakener, I grabbed his arm. The bone beneath his skin felt firm, right up until I pulled it back slightly.

Crack.

A sharp snapping sound filled the car. The man let out a strangled scream as his gun clattered onto the floor. I yanked him closer and slammed my fist into his head, smashing it against the seat and the door pillar.

Blood splattered instantly.

His skull ruptured with a sickening, mushy crunch, like a watermelon crushed by a hammer. His body went limp, his left hand still hanging weakly on the steering wheel.

The car veered out of control.

The tires screeched across the asphalt, sending the vehicle swerving before it shot straight toward an abandoned building ahead. I braced myself, gripping the back of the front seat to steady my body.

Crash.

The car slammed into the structure with brutal force. The hood crumpled, and the windshield cracked into a spiderweb pattern. Dust filled the air.

The driver's body slumped over, his face crushed, half his head barely recognizable. I pushed him aside to make sure he was no longer moving.

A moment ago it had been a sniper. Now a fake driver. Just how terrible was this city's security? It seemed the chaos caused by the Apostle of Space two days ago had really weakened the city's defenses, leaving it vulnerable to people like them.

The moment my feet touched the asphalt, I realized the situation. The car had stopped in an abandoned warehouse parking lot, surrounded by rusted metal fences.

Within seconds, human silhouettes emerged from behind containers and dark corners, forming a half circle around me. They were all armed with swords, spears, knives, and even modified firearms.

Sixteen people in total.

A broad-shouldered man wearing leather armor and carrying a long spear stepped forward. From the way he moved, he was clearly the leader. A scar ran across his face, and his eyes were sharp like an eagle's.

"Nothing personal, boy," he rasped. "The contract on your head was simply too good to pass up."

So they really were hired killers. Rage tightened my chest. Gwenneth... you really didn't hold back.

Keeping my eyes on them, I reached for Mindrender. At the same time, I activated the Eye of Desire and scanned each of them at high speed.

_______________

NAME: Rey Berhen

AGE: 35

CLASS: Lancer

RANK: A

DOMINANCE: 1%

SEXUAL AROUSAL: 6%

VIRGINITY: No

WEAK POINTS: Penis

FETISH: -

_______________

NAME: Emma Herthy

AGE: 29

CLASS: Scout

RANK: C

DOMINANCE: 1%

SEXUAL AROUSAL: 4%

VAGINA VIRGINITY: No

ANAL VIRGINITY: Yes

WEAK POINTS: Vagina, Breast

FETISH: Submission

...

_______________

Based on the data I gathered, most of them were Rank B or C, with Rey being the only Rank A. But I couldn't lower my guard. There could be snipers or hidden attackers waiting around the area.

"You're just standing there like a statue," Rey said, breaking the silence with a hint of mockery. "Don't you want to know why you have to die tonight?"

Inside, I held back the urge to say that they would be the ones dying soon.

"But I guess that's natural," Rey continued, his eyes lighting up. "After all, you're the son of that legend... Freyden the Sword Saint."

He spoke my father's name with reverence. "The first human to reach Rank SSS. The Sword of Justice. The Casanova of the Night. The Heartbreaker..."

He kept listing title after title, and my patience wore thin. Until he added,

"...and of course, the Milf Hunter."

"What?!" I finally snapped, unable to hold myself back. "My father doesn't have a stupid title like that!"

Rey chuckled, pleased to have finally gotten a reaction. "Ah, so you can speak."

He spun his spear skillfully. "Listen, boy. I don't like messy group fights. Too chaotic, too dirty. How about we settle this properly? You and me, one on one."

I tilted my head. "And what do I get if I win?"

The assassin laughed loudly. "If you win, you kill me. And if I win..." He shrugged. "...well, you know the outcome. At least you die with honor, beaten in fair combat by a Rank A instead of being torn apart by a mob."

I glanced around. The other killers seemed calm and unbothered. They fully trusted their leader. After a brief thought, I raised Mindrender.

"Not like I have much of a choice."

Rey and I circled each other, eyes locked, measuring each tiny movement in the dimly lit parking lot. The night's air felt heavy, illuminated only by moonlight and the faint glow of distant street lamps.

I knew this would be a hard fight. My Strength was Rank S, but my Agility was Rank B, and my Stamina lagged behind at Rank C. Rey, meanwhile, was a true Rank A Lancer, quick and deadly with years of experience behind his movements.

He moved first. With swift footwork, his spear lashed out like a striking serpent, pushing me back. I twisted my body aside, barely dodging the thrust aimed at my head.

But the attack was a feint. With a smooth twist, his spear changed direction and swept low at my legs. I jumped, but the tip still grazed my thigh, tearing my pants and leaving a shallow cut.

"Bleeding already?" Rey taunted as he easily pulled his spear back. "You really are as disappointing as the rumors said."

I ignored him and focused on the pattern of his strikes. He kept the distance perfectly, using the length of his spear to dominate the flow of the fight.

Every time I tried to get closer, the spinning arc of his weapon forced me back again.

A few times I tried to block with Mindrender, but the force behind each thrust and sweep sent shocks up my arms.

"Where is your Sword Saint heritage?" Rey mocked again, his spear stabbing forward like lightning, nearly hitting my shoulder. "Your father must be ashamed."

I continued retreating, my breaths growing uneven. My low stamina was catching up to me. Rey noticed and grew more confident. His strikes widened, becoming bolder, more arrogant, as if the victory was already his.

I let his spear dance in front of me, studying the small rhythm in his wrist movements, the slight pause in his footwork, the timing in his breathing. Waiting for an opening that refused to appear.

Rey was too disciplined for careless mistakes.

Until boredom slipped into his expression.

His spear suddenly swung in a wide vertical arc, crashing into the ground and kicking up shards of concrete. A perfect opening appeared, too perfect. I knew it was bait, but it was also the only chance.

I lunged forward.

Rey's response was immediate. He pulled his spear back in an instant, spinning it low in a deadly circle and preparing to thrust through my exposed side. Everything was unfolding exactly the way he wanted.

He never expected me to do something so much dumber.

I threw Mindrender at him.

Rey's expression shifted, a mix of shock and disbelief, probably thinking I had just given up my only weapon. His reflexes kicked in as he smacked the flying saber aside with his spear.

And before he could return to his stance,

I was already in front of him.

One hand clamped down on the shaft of his spear, locking it in place. Rey's eyes widened as he realized too late that throwing my weapon had been nothing but a distraction.

My left fist lifted.

All the power of a Rank S fighter gathered into a single, devastating punch aimed at his face.

Crack.

The sound was horrifying, like a melon dropped from a rooftop. His head snapped back, the bones in his face shattering under the blow. His eyes went out of focus as his lifeless body collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud, his spear slipping from his grip.

He was dead before he hit the floor.

Breathing hard, I stood over his corpse and wiped the blood from my cheek. The fight had lasted only minutes, but it had drained me. I picked up my fallen Mindrender and looked at the remaining assassins, all frozen in disbelief at what had just happened.

The one-on-one battle was over.

Now there were fifteen more left.

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