Bang—! Bang—!
Two quick shots.
Alex dropped the assassin in front of him, using the corpse as a shield to soak up the incoming rounds.
The ballistic suit absorbed most of it, but the pain was still sharp, still real—far from pleasant.
He shifted sideways, returned fire to the left, and felt the enemy pressure slacken. Judging from the silence that followed, those shots must have hit home.
Without hesitation, he shoved the unlucky corpse aside and advanced, eyes locked on the enemy's last firing point. A few clean finishers, and the threat was gone.
Half crouched, Alex reached for a fallen pistol to stash as backup—
But a burly man lunged from the side, tackling him to the floor.
An elbow drove for Alex's throat while the man's other hand crushed down on his gun arm.
Alex reacted instantly—his left hand shot up to guard his neck while his wrist angled just enough to squeeze off a round.
Bang!
The bullet grazed across the man's back.
"Argh—!"
The pain ripped a scream from him, his strength evaporating in an instant.
But footsteps thundered closer from the corridor. More enemies.
Alex froze his attempt to rise, keeping his body locked in the struggle. Flat on the ground, he fired blindly toward the approaching sounds.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Screams followed.
When his mag clicked empty, Alex kicked the groaning brute off him, snatched another pistol from the floor, and ended the man's misery with a clean shot to the head.
Holstering it at his waist, he reloaded his own sidearm and stalked toward the fresh bodies, putting precise bullets into each. No survivors.
On the other side of the hall, Anna was even deadlier.
Three shots, three chest hits.
She pivoted behind cover, snapping off rounds that dropped two more assassins creeping up the flank.
Just as she shifted position, a killer rushed her. His strike knocked her pistol away.
But Anna didn't flinch.
Her leg swept up as her hand flashed down to her boot—drawing her knife in one fluid motion.
Five rapid thrusts sank into his kidney.
"Ugh—!"
The man staggered back, clutching his side. Anna stripped his waist holster clean and put a round through his skull.
Then she spun, emptied the clip into the next wave.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
When the mag clicked dry, she hurled the weapon like a brick—cracking the last man across the temple—before diving for her own pistol on the floor. One smooth shot finished him.
Only then did she fall back, swapping mags as she regrouped with Alex.
Both were heaving breaths, but steady.
Together, they had cut down over twenty men. The building echoed with silence now, only the rare stray shot ringing in the distance.
They followed the trail of gunfire, reuniting with their own squad. With their help, the last stragglers were eliminated.
The building grew still.
After a long wait, no new attackers came.
"Two upstairs—bring down the bodies," Alex ordered.
"The rest, check everything. If anyone's alive, finish them. Search their gear for insignias, tokens, proof of who they serve."
The killers obeyed without hesitation, fanning out.
Alex leaned against the wall, holstering his pistol. Exhaustion weighed heavy, and for the first time since the ambush began, he allowed himself to breathe.
Relief, and a shadow of dread.
Anna, by contrast, looked fresh. She even smirked, giving him a playful thumbs-up.
"Mr. Cross… I didn't expect you to be this strong."
Alex chuckled, not bothering to explain.
"Yeah~."
Rome.
Camorra Family Headquarters.
It was dinnertime.
Santino D'Antonio and his sister Gianna sat across from each other at a candlelit table, savoring fine steak and wine.
A Camorra footsoldier hurried in. He bowed to Gianna, then bent to Santino's ear and whispered rapidly.
Clang—!
The knife slammed down against the table.
The sound made Gianna pause mid-bite. She chewed delicately, swallowed, and asked,
"My dear brother… what has you in such a fury?"
Santino didn't answer. His eyes glinted with cold fury as he stabbed another piece of steak and shoved it in his mouth, pretending calm.
But the facade crumbled. He threw his fork aside and stormed out without another word.
Gianna didn't stop him. She merely crooked a finger, summoning the messenger closer.
"What happened?"
The soldier spoke plainly.
"The New York branch sent thirty men after that female assassin named Anna. Every single one is dead."
Even Gianna's composure cracked. Shock flared across her eyes before she masked it again.
At last, she exhaled slowly.
"My foolish brother… it seems he's provoked a far stronger enemy than he realizes."