When I reached the location, I searched for nearly an hour and a half. The cold bit into my skin like a thousand needles piercing through me. My breath puffed out into the air like fragmented fog, my hands gripping the rifle with a white-knuckled intensity. I was sprinting through narrow alleys until my eyes caught a small iron window near the ground.
I knelt, pried it open slowly, and descended...
I dropped into a cramped corridor; its walls were damp and frigid, the darkness swallowing me from every direction. It was a labyrinth—no straight path, no clear end.
I'm here for Saka, that bastard they've taken. There's no turning back now.
I tucked the pistol into my inner pocket, secured four small grenades inside my waistband, and slid the knife into my side pocket, keeping the rifle firmly in my grip.
I took hesitant steps. Snow drifted down from a narrow overhead vent, melting on my shoulder—a cold reminder that time was not on my side.
Suddenly… a crossroads. Three passages, all dark as the maws of waiting beasts.
I exhaled deeply, then jumped, trying to catch a glimpse of anything from above… but there was nothing. The walls were identical, stripped of any markings.
I gritted my teeth, raised the pistol, and fired a single shot.
The recoil thundered through the space like a crack of lightning. The echo snaked through the corridors, exposing the deadly silence. This was exactly what I needed… to draw them out.
"Come on… let me see your faces before I bury you here."
I began setting the traps: thin tripwires stretched across passages, grenades rigged with taut strings, broken glass scattered on the floor. Every step was calculated; every corner was a snare.
I could hear the thud of their boots approaching. Twenty men. Some barking orders, others advancing with the arrogance of those who thought they had me cornered.
I let out a cold, hollow smile.
"You're in my labyrinth now… and you aren't leaving alive."
I moved slowly, ghosting between the walls, fingers tight on the trigger. My heart remained steady, despite the old wounds thrumming with pain.
Today… I either save Saka, or I die in this hell.
One man stepped forward cautiously into the narrow maze, his eyes scanning the floor and walls. His pace was slower than the others, as if he could scent the lingering breath of death. Suddenly, he jerked aside, dodging a metallic wire he had barely spotted. He retreated half a step, noticing a metal piece rigged in the corner. He realized the place was a minefield.
I was at the other end of the corridor, calmly attaching the silencer to my pistol. My breathing was jagged but controlled, the biting cold numbing my limbs. Sweat mingled with the beads of blood dripping from my forehead, and my heart hammered against my ribs.
He dodged the first trap… good. That means he'll lead his comrades straight into what I've prepared next.
I reached into my small pack, checking the four grenades on my belt and the knife tucked at my hip. I brought the pistol back up, index finger resting near the trigger. I looked at the junction ahead—two dark paths like the entrails of a monster—but I chose to remain still, waiting for them to draw closer.
I heard the rhythmic thud of footsteps, whispers in broken dialects; one cursing the cold, another insulting his commander. Then, the screech of metal dragging on the floor… a lead pipe, a cleaver, maybe a firearm.
"Twenty men… if one falls, the rest will follow like starving wolves. I need to make them fear every shadow in here."
I glanced up at the damp ceiling where I'd rigged a thin wire to a small explosive, adjusting the distance with precision. I let out a slow breath, then squeezed the trigger. A muffled shot pierced the stone wall opposite. The faint sound rippled through the maze like an ominous signal.
Their footsteps stopped dead. Someone screamed:
— "He's close! Fan out!"
I smiled coldly.
"Now the game begins."
The man who dodged the first trap advanced with steady steps, but the one behind him lacked that same wit. He missed the wire on the ground. In a flash, the metal wall beside him erupted.
The explosion rocked the corridor. His screams tore through my ears as he was tossed like a puppet with its strings cut. Two behind him weren't so lucky; tongues of fire swallowed their bodies, splashing their blood across the walls. The stench of gunpowder and scorched flesh filled the narrow passage.
"Three down… seventeen to go."
I didn't wait for their reaction. I surged forward, my body weaving through the shadows. I raised my pistol, aimed at the first head that appeared, and pulled the trigger. He dropped without a sound. A bullet to the brain; end of story.
The second tried to swing a lead pipe at me, but I was faster. I seized his wrist, drew the knife from my hip, and drove it under his chin until the blade punched through the back of his skull. I shoved him to the floor without mercy.
"Fifteen."
Someone yelled:
— "He's here! Open fire!"
I dove sideways as bullets shredded the wall behind me, sparks flying off the metal. I sprang up, firing two shots: the first caught a gunman in the throat, the second took another between the eyes. Blood sprayed onto their comrades' faces, making them hesitate for a heartbeat.
I seized that second. I lunged at them like a wolf among sheep. Knife in their chests, their necks, their bellies. Every stab was a new scream; every bullet a silent mark of death in the dark.
They fell one by one. Some tried to retreat, some screamed in despair, but I had no intention of leaving a single witness alive.
My chest burned with exhaustion, my wounds bleeding hot, blood trailing behind me on the floor. The last man raised his weapon with a trembling hand, but I threw myself at him. I grabbed his arm, snapped his wrist with a sharp blow, and buried my knife in his heart until I felt the pulse stop.
I pulled the blade out slowly, his blood slicking my hands.
I smeared the blood over my face and hair, smiling at the realization that I no longer recognized the man wearing my skin.
I watched the light fade from his eyes until he slumped, motionless.
"Done… they're all done."
My heavy breathing filled my ears; nothing remained but the echo of the fight fading into the depths of the labyrinth. I turned toward the iron gate they had emerged from—a rusted door standing ajar, groaning with every breath of air.
I limped forward, my body screaming in pain, wounds open, knees barely holding my weight. I placed my hand on the door and pushed slowly. Its creak pierced the silence.
"The next step is behind this door… there is no coming back."
And then, I entered…
(End of Chapter 19)