CHAPTER 116: CHAPTER 116; THE MISSION HAD BEGAN

First signal: a clenched fist followed by a slicing motion, prepare for breach.

Second: two fingers pointed toward his own eyes, then down, neutralize targets quietly.

Third: a firm hand pressed flat against the roof, no noise, no mistakes.

They nodded. The mission had begun.

The storm above gave them cover, every thunderclap muffled movement, every flash of lightning cast sharp silhouettes that faded before anyone could make sense of them. It was nature’s gift, and TEAM ECHO used it without hesitation.

Echo-2 slid forward, unclipping a glass cutter from his tactical harness. He reached the rooftop skylight, an antique reinforced glass pane inset into a wooden frame, sealed tight and bolted from the inside. Rain slicked over it, distorting the view of the dim hallway beneath. He pressed a circular frame against the glass, twisted, and activated the silent laser. A thin red light began tracing a perfect ring in the pane.

Seconds passed.

Then, click.

He caught the loosened disc of glass before it fell, held it flat against his chest until Echo-3 passed him a suction harness from behind.

Meanwhile, Echo-4 knelt beside the window, already unscrewing the weather-worn bolts at the corners with a custom magnetic driver. Each screw came out slowly and silently, cushioned in a pocket before being set aside. The old frame shifted slightly.

Echo-1 watched the guards below. One of the patrolling men paused, scratching his neck, eyes squinting at the sky. The drone hovering nearby froze midair, mimicking the shape of a passing leaf caught in the breeze. The guard said something to his partner, something unimportant, and moved on.

Echo-1 made the call.

He nodded once.

Drop in.

Echo-3 slid down first, feet first, body rigid, lowering herself into the corridor below using a folded rappelling line secured to the gutter beam. Her boots hit the floor with a silent tap, knees flexed to absorb the impact.

She swept the hallway with her sidearm, custom silenced, and clicked her comm once.

Clear.

One by one, the others followed, Echo-1 landing last. The corridor smelled faintly of incense and aged wood. A long runner of crimson silk carpet stretched across the floor. The walls bore lacquered portraits of the Shen ancestors, their eyes dull and watching even in the dark.

Echo-1 pointed to a sealed door at the far end, the one connected to the east study where sensitive documents were rumored to be kept.

Echo-2 moved up, unpacking a small portable EMP puck from his gear. He knelt, pressed it to the electronic lock on the door, and activated it. A soft whump sound pulsed through the circuitry. The digital keypad blinked once, then died.

Echo-2 pushed the door.

It opened with a slow creak.

Not loud. But enough.

One of the guards below paused.

He tilted his head, ears pricking up.

"Did you hear that?"

His partner frowned. "What?"

"That... creaking. Like a door opening."

The second man shook his head. "The storm’s playing with your ears, man. You always do this."

"Still... check it?"

"Alright, alright."

Echo-1’s fingers flicked sharply.

Positions.

Echo-3 darted into the shadows behind a structural beam. Echo-4 slipped beside an ancient cabinet, her figure nearly indistinguishable from its contours. Echo-2 flattened against the wall near the door, weapon raised, breath measured.

The first guard entered moments later, rifle raised but grip still too relaxed. His boots pressed into the soft rug, unaware of the ambush wrapped around him like a noose.

He stepped further inside....

Thwip!

Echo-4’s suppressed shot struck him just under the jaw. He dropped instantly, eyes still wide, body limp.

His partner called out from the corridor. "You good?"

Echo-1 moved like a specter. He crossed the hallway in three strides, crept into the corridor, and waited.

The second man stepped through the threshold...

Too late.

A swift twist, a blade from behind. A single gurgle escaped his throat before he crumpled beside the first.

Clean and silently done.

Echo-1 turned back to the team.

The lock on the study door clicked open with a quiet mechanical whirr.

Echo-1 eased the door ajar with gloved fingers, the barrel of his suppressed firearm leading the way.

The scent of lacquered wood and aged paper hit him first, this room was well-maintained, regal in its silence. Books lined the walls in tall, glass-fronted cases. A large mahogany desk sat in the middle, facing a high-backed leather chair that looked recently occupied.

He motioned with two fingers: clear. The team fanned out like shadows, weapons up, boots whispering across the thick carpet.

They weren’t here for books. They were looking for Yueyao and where she was being held.

But within two minutes, it was clear: the study was a dead end. The cabinets were locked with biometric sensors, likely coded to Shen Xiao himself. No documents left out. No computer unlocked. No loose paper. Echo-2 signaled with a shake of his head: nothing we can use here.

Echo-1’s jaw tightened beneath the mask. Wasting time was dangerous. He gave the signal: move out. One by one, they slipped back through the hallway. Their next target: the east guest wing, where the family or guests might be kept under light surveillance. Maybe there, they’d find someone more... vulnerable.

They didn’t expect to find her.

Inside the guest room, the moment they cracked the door open, a startled gasp sliced through the silence like a blade.

(The Guest Room)

Bai Zhi had only just stirred awake, groggy and aching all over, the aftertaste of medication clinging bitterly to the back of her throat.

The soft rustle of silk marked her slow movement as she sat up in bed, her pale legs dangling off the edge, toes barely touching the cold marble floor.

The faint shimmer of her nightrobe caught the glow from the nearby wall lamp, golden silk against fevered skin, her hair loose in messy tangles down her shoulders.

She winced. Her wrists still throbbed faintly, and you could see the cut mark. Her chest rose with effort, not emotion, her body was still too weak for either.