After I was finished with them, I opened the door and entered. My body began to stagger; every step was a gamble. I closed the door quietly behind me and looked around. The corridor was long, its walls a clinical, piercing white—like part of a sterile laboratory. The cold lighting cast my exhausted shadow against the wall. I could feel every wound on my body growing heavier with every movement.
Suddenly, a door opened ten meters away. Two men stepped out.
The first was a colossus, nearly two meters tall. He carried no weapon, but his muscles were lethal enough on their own.
The second was lean, wielding a long sword that shimmered under the artificial lights.
The brute smiled with supreme confidence and began to advance toward me with slow, heavy steps, as if he were dragging the very earth with him.
I quickly raised my rifle and fired a short burst.
The giant raised his arms and kept coming. The bullets tore through his flesh, but they didn't stop him; he was like a monster that didn't know the meaning of pain.
Cold sweat trickled down my forehead. Without hesitation, I lunged backward, drew my silenced pistol, and fired a shot at his head.
But he moved with uncanny speed, and the bullet merely grazed his ear.
Before I could catch my breath, he was upon me. His fist, like a slab of rock, lunged toward my face.
I ducked quickly. His fist slammed into the wall behind me, shattering it as if it were made of paper.
I kicked him in the leg with all the strength I had left, but he barely flinched.
I screamed from the agony in my dislocated shoulder as I raised my rifle—and from my leg that felt on the verge of snapping again—and pulled the trigger.
This time, I aimed directly at his chest and neck. The rounds shredded his arteries. He managed to stumble forward one more meter before collapsing to the floor like a falling mountain.
There was no time for respite; the swordsman lunged.
He was much faster. His first strike nearly severed my head from my shoulders, and I only survived by ducking at the last possible millisecond.
I swung my pistol and fired, but the man swiped his sword, parrying the bullet with the steel blade. Sparks flew from the impact.
My breathing grew ragged, the pain intensified, and my vision blurred slightly, but I refused to fall.
He lunged with his sword toward my stomach. I sacrificed my left hand, letting him stab through it, then gripped his hand with all my might and pressed my pistol directly against his chest.
"It's over for you."
I pulled the trigger.
The bullet pierced his heart. His eyes widened, the sword slipped from his hand, and he staggered back until he collapsed, lifeless.
I stood there, barely holding on. I pulled the sword out of my hand, blood dripping from my wounds. Pain gnawed at my body as if every nerve were on fire.
I lowered my weapons for a few seconds, taking a deep breath while looking at my battered, blood-stained body.
The corridor still stretched out before me—more gates, more threats—but my body was on the verge of collapse.
Despite that, I took another step. It was pure spite keeping me alive.
The damn fight was finally over. I could no longer feel my limbs. I took his sword and began to move forward, step by step, losing my senses. The corridor was an endless void of white; I felt as if I were walking in an infinite loop. I saw a door ahead, but my body felt miles behind my mind, refusing to move further.
I collapsed to the floor, unable to stir. My breathing became heavy and strained, but Saka is worth everything. I moved my hand to pull an adrenaline needle from my pocket. Every movement felt as slow as the span from sunrise to sunset. I jammed it into my right thigh.
I felt the cold liquid enter my bloodstream, surging through my entire body.
Everything changed. The pain vanished, and I felt a burst of energy, but it came with a heavy price: I felt like a drunkard. Things began to wave and blur into one another. It was a hallucinogenic ache. The effect took hold rapidly; I began to walk unsteadily. The door grew closer and closer.
Just as my senses began to sharpen, a voice echoed from the walls:
"Magnificent… entertaining… your fighting style is beautiful and graceful. I want you… and I shall have you."
(End of Chapter 20)