bChapter /bb300 /b

The underground fighting club pulsed with electric energy. Men shouted numbers across the dimly lit space bwhile /bwaving fistfuls of cash The air reeked of sweat, cheap cologne, and desperation. In the center, a makeshift ring held two bloodied fighters circling each other fikz starved wolves, their faces a mess of cuts and bruises.

I stood at the back of the crowd, a ck baseball cap pulled low over my face.

“Five hundred on the guy in red!” someone shouted, tossing bills into the air. The crowd roared as the fighter in red shortsnded a devastating blow to his opponent’s jaw.

None of this interested me. My attention was fixed on the second floor–a restricted area where asional staff members‘ appeared and disappeared. Based on Miguel’s information and the conversation I’d overheard between two workers earlier, I’d pieced together enough to understand the operation. The winners of these fights were recruited into Shadow Organization–cannon fodder, really.

I circled the perimeter of the room, moving like smoke between drunken spectators. No one noticed as bI /bslipped behind a stack of beer crates and nted the first of my devices–a small, inconspicuous package that looked like nothing more than electrical wiring. Three more followed at key structural points around the building.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Our champion remains undefeated!” The announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers bas /bI finished setting thest charge.

I slipped out the back exit, walking unhurried into the warm night air. Behind me, the fighting continued, the crowd’s roars growing louder as the night progressed.

From the roof of an abandoned building half a mile away, I watched the fighting club through high–powered binocrs. Thest patrons were staggering out, engines starting as cars began to disperse. Two staff approached the winners of tonight’s matches, speaking in hushed tones.

I could imagine the conversation: promises of power, money, respect. The chance to join the prestigious Shadow Organization–the world’s premier assassinationwork.

“Poor bastards,” I muttered, checking my watch. “They have no idea what they’re signing up for.” fn4d63 ???s ??????? ?s ?????? ?? F?nd-Novel/fn4d63

I set down the binocrs, picked up the detonator and pressed the button.

The explosion ripped through the night, a sh of orange and red that momentarily turned darkness into day. The sound followed a split secondter–a thunderous boom that echoed across the small town. The shockwave rippled outward, disturbing the desert sand.

Where the fighting club had stood moments before, there was now only fire and rubble.

Two daysterb, /bbI /bwas nursing a coffee in my hotel room when my phone buzzed.

iThe /iiperson /iiyou’re /iilooking /ifor ihas /iiappeared/ibi, /i/bMiguel’s text read. In the iother /iifighting /iivenue/i. I’ll ipick /iiyou /iiup /iin twenty iminutes/i.

The venue was housed in what appeared to be an upscale hotel on the outskirts bof /btown. bValets /bin bcrisp /bbuniforms /btook bcars /bbfrom /barriving bguests/b.

b1/2 /b

8:21 Tue, Sep 30

b99 /b

Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings. Men in expensive suits and women dripping in jewelry mingled around a central fighting ring that looked much more professional than the previous venue.

I need to get upstairs,” I said. “Create a distraction.”

Miguel looked panicked. ‘What kind of-

“Anything. Just draw attention away from the elevator for thirty seconds.”

He hesitated, then nodded.

Suddenly, there was a crash from the bar area. Miguel had “identally” knocked over an entire tray of champagne sses. As security and staff rushed to address themotion, I slipped into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor.

The doors opened to reveal a luxurious lounge area with plush leather sofas and private booths. Four security guards stood at various points, their attention immediately focusing on me.

“Members only,” one said, stepping forward.

I didn’t hesitate. My hand shed out, striking his throat with precision. As he dropped, the others reached for their weapons. Too slow. I moved between them like a ghost, disabling each with brutal efficiency. One by one, they crumpled to the floor, unconscious or dying, without having made a sound.