The city breathed knives.
For three nights straight, Ethan hadn't slept more than a handful of minutes at a time. The streets had changed since the dock massacre. No longer merely dangerous, they were a living trap, woven with Syndicate blades. Every alley was a potential throat-cutting corridor, every crowded tavern a nest for hidden assassins.
The Syndicate hadn't merely sent hunters. They had laid out a web.
And Ethan Cross was the spider's chosen prey.
The First Strikes
It began at the marketplace.
Aria had gone to trade stolen goods for medicine when the bells tolled noon. The square was crowded, voices and bartering rising like waves.
Then, silence cut through.
A single scream.
A hooded man dropped from the awning above, blade flashing, slicing at Aria's chest. She twisted, the attack grazing her arm. Before she could draw her dagger, two more figures lunged from the stalls, knives gleaming.
"Blades!" someone shouted. Panic spread like fire. The crowd surged, trampling one another, scattering into the streets.
Aria loosed an arrow point-blank, the shaft burying itself through an assassin's mask. The man collapsed, spasming on the ground. She fired again, but the second blade-wielder dodged, his curved knife arcing for her throat—
Steel intercepted steel.
Ethan's dagger slammed the strike aside, sparks raining. He rammed his shoulder into the assassin's chest, knocking him sprawling.
"Stay behind me!" Ethan barked.
Aria's voice trembled, but she nocked another arrow. "They're everywhere, Ethan. They knew we'd come here—"
Ethan didn't answer. His system flared to life, the glow burning behind his eyes.
[Skill Activated: Shadow Sense]
[Detecting Hostile Presences Nearby…]
[Warning: Twelve concealed assassins within 30 meters.]
The world sharpened, a red outline flickering through the crowd. Every assassin's shape burned like fire in his vision—behind crates, atop roofs, crouched in alleys.
The square wasn't a market anymore. It was a killing ground.
The Fight in the Square
"Marcus! Shield wall!" Ethan roared.
Marcus, still bandaged from his fight with the Shadow, raised his dented shield and lumbered forward. His bulk formed a wall at Ethan's side just as the assassins converged.
They came like waves. Knives thrust in a blur, silent killers with only their breath hissing between teeth. Ethan's dagger met the first, sliding past ribs into lung. He spun, slashing another across the throat.
"Aria, right flank!" he shouted.
Her arrow flew, pinning one assassin's hand to a post before Ethan drove his blade into the man's chest.
But for every one they dropped, two more slipped closer.
Shadow Sense burned in Ethan's head, flashing threats everywhere. His skull throbbed, vision blurring as the system warned:
[Cognitive Strain: 43%]
[Prolonged use may cause neural damage.]
He didn't care. Not when Marcus grunted in pain, blood dripping through bandages. Not when Aria staggered, her bowstring snapping from overuse.
This wasn't a battle. It was a slaughter. And the Syndicate meant to drown them in blood.
Trapped in the Web
"Fall back!" Ethan ordered. "Through the alleys!"
They crashed into the narrow streets, assassins darting overhead like crows, knives flashing from rooftops.
Ethan ducked one strike, countered with a savage slash that severed an ankle. Marcus swung his shield like a hammer, crushing bone and skull.
But the assassins weren't reckless. They were herding them.
Aria gasped as the alley narrowed to a dead end. Crates and debris piled high against the wall.
"They've boxed us in!"
Ethan turned, back pressed to the wall, dagger raised. The assassins formed a crescent, blades catching what little light the alley offered.
Then he saw it—paint on the wall behind them, faint, drawn in crimson chalk. A sigil.
Syndicate rune.
"Trap," Ethan muttered.
The ground beneath them ignited. Fire roared upward, a hidden rune detonating. Heat seared flesh, smoke choking the alley. Marcus shielded Aria, bellowing in pain as flames licked his back.
Ethan charged. Through fire, through pain. His dagger plunged into the rune-bearer's chest, snuffing the glow in his blood.
He kicked the corpse aside and dragged Marcus and Aria free, lungs burning.
Behind them, assassins shrieked in rage as their prey slipped loose from the burning cage.
The Knife Market
By nightfall, Ethan knew the Syndicate's web wasn't random.
It was everywhere.
Taverns whispered of bounties. Merchants closed shutters when Ethan passed. Even beggars vanished into alleys rather than meet his gaze.
Word spread. A name.
The Knife Market.
A place where contracts were traded, where every rogue and killer could sell their blade for Syndicate gold. Ethan had become the highest bounty in the city's history.
Aria slammed her fist on the table of their hideout. "We can't keep running. They'll bleed us dry."
Marcus coughed, spitting blood into the fire. "Then what? Walk into their nest and beg for mercy?"
Ethan's eyes burned with fury. "No. We burn the web."
He rose, dagger gleaming in the firelight. "If the Knife Market wants me dead, then I'll go there myself. And I'll make every single bastard regret putting a price on my head."
The system pulsed.
[New Quest: Break the Web]
Objective: Infiltrate the Knife Market. Survive. Destroy Syndicate contracts.
Reward: Hidden Evolution Path unlocked.]
The Infiltration
At midnight, cloaked in shadows, Ethan slipped into the Knife Market.
It wasn't a building. It was an underground carnival of killers, hidden beneath the old amphitheater. Candles flickered, illuminating stalls lined with daggers, poison vials, masks. Voices whispered deals in every tongue. Gold clinked. Blood was currency here.
And everywhere, posted like trophies, were notices. His face. His name.
Ethan Cross. 100,000 gold for his heart.
The hunters laughed, sharpening knives.
Ethan walked among them unseen, Shadow Sense flickering warnings at every step. But his mind was iron now, his vow steadying his hand.
He found the Syndicate broker at the heart of the market—an obese man with rings stacked to his elbows, sipping wine as he bartered souls.
Ethan's dagger pressed to his throat before the man could scream.
"Cancel every contract," Ethan whispered. His eyes blazed. "Or I carve your name into the wall in your own blood."
The broker trembled. "Y-You can't—"
The system glowed.
[Skill Unlock: Oathbreaker's Intimidation – Enemies under oath or contract are weakened in your presence.]
The broker's body shook violently, sweat pouring as the contracts fluttered from his desk. They ignited, burning to ash.
The whispers of the market fell silent. Dozens of eyes turned toward Ethan.
The web had been cut.
But now the spiders would descend.
The Syndicate's Warning
As Ethan backed toward the exit, the crowd parted. A voice drifted from the far end of the market. Smooth, venomous, unforgettable.
The Shadow.
He stepped forward, crimson cloak trailing, mask gleaming with the faint scar Ethan had carved into it days ago.
"You think burning contracts will save you?" the Shadow said. "You've killed some hunters. Scared a broker. But you've only forced us to tighten the web."
His blade sang as it left the scabbard.
"The next strike won't be for gold. It will be for silence."
The market erupted.
Dozens of blades flashed, the assassins descending on Ethan like wolves.
And Ethan, with Marcus and Aria at his side, raised his dagger. His vow burned hotter than ever.
"Then let's see," he snarled, "whose oath carves deeper."
The knives came down.
And the war for the city's soul began.