W Country.
In a remote area of Cloudfort, within an abandoned warehouse near the city border, a young man huddled on the grimy concrete floor, his body covered in wounds and dried blood. A scurrying rat approached him, eyeing him as potential prey.
Dim light seeped through a small vent on one of the walls, casting a faint glow that allowed the man to survey his bleak surroundings.
Chains bound his hands, restricting his movement to a small area. The room was barren except for a few stacks of old crates in a far corner.
A nameless pain consumed him, yet he lacked the strength to flinch or cry out for help. With great effort, he slowly shooed away the rats that saw him as a portion of food.
He couldn't understand why the gangsters had captured and mercilessly tortured him, leaving him in a state where death seemed preferable. The agony was unbearable.
What puzzled him further was that they hadn't asked him anything; they simply pummeled him while recording the torment as if they were live-streaming the ordeal.
'Did they use the footage to blackmail my family?' he wondered, his mind clouded with uncertainty. Days blurred together, and his grasp on time slipped away.
At this moment, all he yearned for was to awaken from this nightmare or, failing that, to find release in death. How could he continue living when he could no longer feel one of his legs? The torturer had left him paralyzed.
Since he regained consciousness from his near-death trance, he had wracked his brain, attempting to recall if he had offended someone who would subject him to such suffering. But he found no answers.
A desperate desire emerged within him—to confront his tormentor and plead for a swift end. The pain had become unbearable, and he could bear it no longer.
Just when he felt like biting his own tongue so he could die, he heard a gunshot rang out in the distance piercing through his desolate existence. That voice halted his intention to end his life.
'Could it be? Is someone here to rescue me?' A glimmer of hope ignited within him as if the part of his soul that had ventured into the realm of the dead was now returning.
Eagerly awaiting the arrival of his savior, his once feeble heartbeat regained strength, steadily pulsating and accelerating with anticipation. His eyes shimmered with renewed hope, fixated on the door at the room's far end.
****
"What the fuck!! We're under attack!" One of the men in a black hat cursed while taking cover against the wall. He quickly checked his machine gun and motioned for his subordinates to position himself at an advantage.
"You go over there," he said to the sniper, pointing to the window on the second floor. "I'll handle things here."
The sniper nodded, then sprinted up to the second floor. He was eager to take a peek at their attacker.
"Where are the others? Why are there only four of us here?" The man in the black hat asked while looking at two men not far from him.
"They went into town," they both said in low voices.
The man with the black hat cursed inwardly before commanding, "Alright, listen, you guys shoot anyone who shows up. We can't afford to take any chances. This mission is crucial for the boss!"
"Yes, Sir!" The remaining two men responded in unison, swiftly assuming defensive positions, ready to attack.
...
As panic gripped the gangsters inside the warehouse, outside, nearby car park, two men stood side by side, gazing at the building.
One of them was a man with short black hair, possessing a tall and well-built frame. He wore a long, stylish black coat that added an air of mystery to his presence. His captivating appearance had the power to make any woman weak in the knees. Still, his eyes held an icy coldness that sent shivers down their spines. Despite this, his expression relaxed as he prepared his weapon, exuding a sense of confidence and control.
On the other hand, the young man beside him felt nervous and confused. Staring at his companion, the young man couldn't help but ask, "Senior Twelve, why did you create such a commotion?" He was perplexed as he watched Twelve fire shots into the warehouse, seemingly making their presence known to the gangster inside.
Twelve turned his head towards the young man, his gaze piercing. "Why do you ask?" he replied, taking a few steps away. "Haven't you heard of my style? I never strike in silence. I prefer an extravagant show like this..." he continued, casually tossing a grenade toward the warehouse door.
BOOM!
The explosion reverberated through the air, shattering the metal door and leaving a gaping hole in the middle, providing them an easy entrance into the warehouse.
"Shit! Senior, what if they have snipers?" the young man exclaimed, quickly seeking cover and pointing his automatic gun forward. His worried expression transformed into determination, ready to take down anyone who appeared before him.
"Don't worry, I've already taken care of it," Twelve assured him, touching his earpiece. "In the window above, take him out," he whispered.
In the blink of an eye, the sound of shattering glass windows echoed in the air.
"Done! Move in and showcase your skills. Take down that bastard and save Carter Riley," Twelve ordered, motioning for his subordinates to enter the warehouse ahead of him. He casually followed suit.
Gunshots soon filled the air, intensifying with each passing moment. Still, the barrage of gunfire ceased after a few decisive shots.
Before long, the once chaotic place fell silent, reminiscent of the calm before the storm, as all the gangsters lay lifeless.
"Tsk! This mission is too easy. Why did Two and Three send me here? I was expecting to encounter a group of gangsters!" Seven chuckled, glancing at his junior as he instructed him to locate Carter.
.
.
.
.
"Senior, I found him!" shouted the junior members of Fox as he discovered a man huddled in a room.
Twelve immediately rushed over to check on the man's condition. He was crouched on the floor, covered in wounds. Despite the injuries, Twelve recognized him as their target for rescue. He was taken aback by what he witnessed.
He swiftly pressed his earbuds and urgently called for medics and a helicopter. The man's condition was critical, necessitating an air evacuation for a quicker response.
After ending the call, Twelve checked his weak pulse. "Carter... Can you hear me? If it's difficult for you to speak, just move your hands," he said gently.
Twelve felt a sense of relief when he saw Carter's slight movement and heard the sound of chains echoing in the room. It indicated that Carter hadn't lost consciousness.
"Good, hang on, buddy. The medics will be here soon to save you," Twelve assured him, proceeding to help remove the chains.
Carter felt so relieved at that moment. Finally, this nameless pain will end.
As his hands were freed from the chains, he slowly looked up at the man who spoke softly to him. Even though his vision was blurry, he could still see the man clearly.
It confused him because he had never seen this man before. To her surprise even more, the man appeared to be of Asian descent, yet his accent bore absolutely no sign of it.
'Is this person my brother's guard?' Carter muttered.
"W-Who are you?" Carter asked, his voice hoarse and weak. "And w-who sent you to save me?"
Twelve smiled at Carter, then he stood up and took off his long black coat. He gently covered Carter's body — afraid he would freeze to death because he was only wearing tattered clothes.
"Scarlett sent me here!" Twelve said calmly.
Carter was taken aback.
ραndαsΝοvεl.cοm Of all the people he had imagined coming to his rescue, he never expected his sister-in-law to be the one. Especially considering she was currently in another country.
'How did she manage to do it?' Numerous questions flooded his shocked mind, but his throat was too sore even though he wanted to ask.
With great effort, he managed to say, "S-sister-in-law..." His voice trailed off. He felt his eyes welling up, and he cried.
"T-Thank you, sir... Please convey my gratitude to my sister," he said, his voice trembling and weak.
"You have to hang in there, man, so you can thank her in person," Twelve said firmly, attempting to motivate Carter. He admired Carter's resilience and survival despite his severe injuries.
Carter didn't utter another word. The man's words had reignited his will to live. He needed to regain his strength and health to meet his sister-in-law.
...
Silence enveloped the room, leaving only Twelve and Carter inside while the junior members patrolled outside.
Just as Twelve thought their mission was nearing its end, a voice came through his earbud, "Senior, someone is approaching with full force!" the voice urgently reported. "Please give your orders!"
Twelve's face tensed up. He swiftly readied his weapon and made his way to the door.
"Find out who they are! If they're the enemy, eliminate them!" he commanded before ending the call. He glanced back at Carter and said, "Stay here, man. Don't move," in a tone that conveyed the seriousness of the situation.
Twelve's cold gaze was enough to make Carter understand that they were in an unsafe situation. He could only nod and sigh silently.
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