While Aiden and the others observed from the white room, Rey, who had been frozen atop the mound of bodies, finally snapped out of his daze.
His eyes flickered, confused. He scanned his surroundings.
The thug—the one he had planned to ambush—was already dead. Blood pooled beneath him, leaking from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears.
"What...?" Rey frowned. His last memory was strategizing the attack. After that… nothing.
Did I black out?
Shrugging, Rey stepped over the body and crouched to inspect the pistol clutched in the dead man's hands. He pulled the magazine free and nodded slightly—fully loaded, minus a single shot.
Standard issue. Nothing special. Still... better than nothing.
Testing the gun's weight in his hand, he found it surprisingly comfortable. After a moment of familiarizing himself with its balance, he rose and glanced at the target counter flashing in his peripheral vision.
"Let's finish this," he muttered coldly.
He approached the hostage room silently.
One guard remained.
As Rey moved closer, barely eight meters away, the last thug noticed him. Mistaking Rey for a frightened hostage, the man rushed forward, grabbing him roughly and pressing the gun to his head.
"Move, or I'll blow your brains out!" he barked.
Rey said nothing.
The man dragged him toward the door—until a sensation on his scalp made him pause.
A cold, metallic touch.
Slowly, he turned his head.
Rey stood there, his gaze empty. His hand held a gun, and its barrel rested firmly against the thug's forehead.
A silent predator.
"W-wait, no! Please, don't! I was just following orders!" the thug begged, eyes wide, body trembling. "It was Jacob! Not me! Please, I—"
Rey almost laughed—not out of cruelty, but at the absurdity of the situation.
The irony.
A man begging for mercy, after showing none to others. It felt like a scene ripped from some dark comedy.
Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.
A single shot.
Blood sprayed across the hallway walls.
The hostages, crammed in the adjacent room, screamed in terror, believing someone had just been executed.
But moments later…
The door creaked open.
They braced for death.
Instead, a lone figure stepped inside—a teenager, no older than eighteen. His eyes scanned the room, not with malice, but with cold efficiency.
Rey exhaled softly, disappointed not to find his real target among them.
He addressed the captives without emotion:
"Listen. I'm here to help. Stay calm. Follow my instructions, and you'll survive."
For a moment, silence.
Then came the noise.
"Please, I have a family! My children need me!" someone cried.
"I'll pay you! My father's rich! Let me go first!" another shouted, desperation turning to bribery.
The noise escalated. Everyone was shouting, begging, bargaining.
Except one.
Evan.
He watched silently, eyes narrowed.
Rey's patience frayed.
"Silence."
One word.
Heavy. Final.
The room fell silent.
"I'll choose who leaves."
Gasps. Some prayed. Others cursed their luck.
Rey pointed.
"You."
The crowd turned, stunned.
Evan blinked. "M-me?"
Rey strode over and sliced the ropes binding Evan's wrists.
"Consider yourself lucky."
"Sir… thank you. I'll never forget this. I hope… I can repay you someday," Evan said sincerely.
Rey hesitated, then chuckled softly, realizing Evan didn't recognize him.
"…If you wish to remember me, remember my name."
"What is it, sir?"
Rey paused dramatically. Then, lowering his voice, declared:
"The Ravenblade."
Silence.
And then… laughter.
Someone snorted. Another giggled. Even a few girls chuckled.
'…Yeah. That sounded cooler in my head,' Rey thought awkwardly.
Evan, however, didn't laugh.
"I'll remember, Sir Ravenblade," he said seriously, before bolting toward freedom.
The others watched in envy and frustration as Evan disappeared through the door.
Rey ignored them. He sat down where Evan had been, lowering his head to let his mask shadow his face.
Time passed.
Roughly thirty minutes later…
The door opened.
A familiar voice echoed through the chamber.
"Where the hell are my men?! Why is there blood outside? Did someone try to escape?!"
Jacob.
Behind him, two thugs scanned the hostages.
"Boss, everyone's accounted for."
"Then where are my people?! Whose blood is this?!"
Jacob seethed.
"Forget it. Bring me the hit book."
One thug hesitated.
"Sir… you're the only one who knows the password."
Jacob cursed under his breath but didn't argue.
"Both of you—stay here. Keep watch. If anyone makes a sound, break their bones."
The two thugs nodded, moving outside to stand guard.
Rey raised his head.
It was time.
Moments later, a sharp shattering sound rang out.
The hostages screamed.
The two guards rushed back inside, guns drawn—only to be swallowed by darkness.
Someone had smashed the lone bulb, plunging the room into blackness.
The first thug activated his phone flashlight—but the moment light returned, he found his partner's corpse crumpled at his feet.
Cold fear gripped him.
Before he could flee, a dagger silently pierced his throat.
Both men collapsed.
Rey's voice echoed softly in the dark.
"Run."
He sliced through the ropes binding the hostages.
Fear, respect, and desperation drove them.
None questioned him now.
Rey led them silently to the opposite exit, pointing them away from Jacob's direction.
"Move. Don't stop."
They obeyed.
And then… he turned.
Leaving them behind, Rey advanced.
Toward Jacob.
Toward the final confrontation.
Toward the last keys.
To be continued…