The evening air, cold and damp, tasted of blood... and dread.
The whisper of steel, a thinned fabric snap and silence.
The sight of a masked man in front of Jackson makes him so terrified that he can feel his heart pounding.A masked man with deadly eyes and a dagger in his hand descends from the bed.
He moves too quickly. Jackson looked up. His body was trembling due to fear and some exciting due to adrenaline.
Finally, the assassin broke the silence — his tone was steady and without showing any emotion.
"So you're awake this time."
Jackson did not reply. He shuffled one foot back slightly, his bare feet on the cold marble floor. His yellow eyes hardly noticed the flickering candlelight.
The voice of the assassin was as chill as ice.
"You should have died that night and without fanfare. That would have been merciful."
In spite of the tension, Jackson had a lopsided smile on his face.
"Well, I guess mercy is not my department."
The assassin moves very fast to attack him.
The dagger sliced through the air in unclear of movement. Jackson's body responded automatically to the system's weak pulse before his mind did.
[Detection Activated.]
His nerves vibrated with a gentle pulse that included movement flashes and fading forecasts of the blade's next target. The dagger sliced through his hair rather than his throat but he was able to dodge it in time.
He slide back, and nearly fell. The assassin continued his work with precision, silently, quickly and efficiently.
In defense, he lifted his arm but the dagger turned and cut a small line across his wrist. The pure white sheets behind were spotted with blood.
He hissed, backing toward the wall. "System—keep tracking him!"
[Detection - Rank F-1 continues for 9 seconds.]
Everything slowed. He almost felt the air change, the direction of each step the assassin took. His mind went left, and he weaved — the dagger just missing his shoulder.
The assassin clicked his tongue once more. "You've improved."
Jackson grit his teeth. "I guess dying does that to you."
He snatched a chair close by and swung it desperately. The assassin avoided him with ease, breaking the leg of the chair against the blade. It was Jackson's chance; he kicked the man, barely hitting his side.
The assassin's blade came back fast and in control. The knife bit into Jackson's shoulder.
"Ah--!" Jackson screamed as he jerked. The initial sting engulfed him with the temperature of fire.
He wobbled backward as his vision blurred and blood trickled down his arm, warmth and stickiness.
The assassin removed the dagger as if he was palming a pen, shook blood off it.
"You're going to die with the next strike." the assassin said in cold voice.
Jackson pressed his trembling hand against the wound and take deep breathing heavily. His mind telling him to run away or call help but his heart would not let him go.
No. Not again. Not this time.
He envisioned his parents; he could not remember their faces clearly, just vague memories. He thought of Callista, smiling and handing him water. His sister Eliana, the only one to be nice to him.
And the system said, "3 days left to live."
I refuse to die here. I wish for life... a life with my family, with my wife.
Jackson raised his head and observed the blood dripping from his mouth's edge. "You can spear my life.. please."
The assassin dipped his head slightly. "So, I will set you free from this suffering."
He stepped again, a flash amidst the dimming light of the room. Before Jackson realized, the knife shot forward into Jackson's throat like lightning.
Jackson barely dodged in a twisted motion, leaving a thin red line where the knife had parked on his throat. Jackson swung into a wide swing, but the assassin only had to catch it, to land a knee into Jackson's stomach.
Jackson leaned slightly forward and wheezed the air from his lungs. The assassin had kicked him backward into a small table and glass flew in all directions around Jackson.
Jackson moaned as he felt his whole body being flooded with pain. His vision swam, mixed in with gold and crimson.
[Warning: Blood loss is increasing.]
[Vitality decreases rapidly.]
He coughed, pushing himself to a sitting position, shards cutting his hands.
"Shit... he's really strong. He's extremely efficient and accurate with his strikes. He's not just some random criminal. He's professional."
The assassin walked slowly towards in his direction and making a faint metallic sound as he dragged the tip of his knife to the ground. He said in soft voice, "Don't take it personally, kid but orders are orders. I don't care what kind of 'young master' you are."
Jackson tightened his fists together.
"Then… I will make you care."
He focused, giving the one thing that had previously saved him his whole attention. "System-Detection, again!"
[Skill cooldown: 15 seconds.]
Jackson cursed under his breath. No time!
The assassin approached once more. Jackson fell onto his side, the dagger scraping down his back. He bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood but he forced himself to stand up despite the pain.
He reached for whatever he could. His finger closed around a metal candlestick, and initially it appeared as though he swung it mindlessly. Although the assassin easily met it with his sword, he hesitated for only a half-heartbeat due to the impact.
That was plenty.
Jackson drove his shoulder into him and shoved him into the wall. The assassin immediately attack with an elbow to his ribs. The air blasted out of Jackson's lungs as he gasped and fell to one knee.
The assassin raised the dagger into a high position to kill him with single strick.
Jackson's trembling hand lifted unbidden toward the flowers in the corner of the room—the last few Jackson had not drained yet. His mind screamed—
System! Extract!
The humming of life responded to him. The petals began to glow from within, illuminating into him.
His body burned—just enough to move again.
The dagger came down—
Jackson crashed the candlestick into the assassin's arm after ducking aside. The blade did not pierce his heart; instead, it scraped across his cheek.
Jackson's face had a thin line of blood running down it. His strength was evaporating as fast as it had appeared and he could feel his heartbeat slowly fading away.
The assassin's amused, his cold eyes were fixed on him. "You're stubborn."
Jackson grinned weakly. "You noticed."
Another exchange followed — steel flashing, bodies colliding, the room filled with the sound of metal and gasping breaths.
Jackson's actions were awkward, frantic, and his response was simply instinct and street brawling. But Jackson's determination had not wavered.
Jackson barely escaped the assassin's knife each time he struck out. He got back up after every fall. The fire in his eyes doubled in intensity despite the fact that his body was a ruined mess with numerous wounds.
I can't die here. No way I can die here. Not when I finally can live…
His vision fell blurry again, the world rolled off into the distance, his breath came in gasps.
The assassin struck again, the long blade cutting diagonally across his side, leaving him with a long line of red. Jackson staggered slightly but held onto the wound and he didn't fall.
"Are you still standing?" the assassin said coldly. "You don't know when to quit."
Despite the blood on his lips, Jackson gave a slight smile and say "Perhaps not. But you are aware of what I am aware of?"
The assassin hesitated, grab his head and tilting his head.
Jackson whispered himself, "I'm not afraid of death anymore." His eyes shone like a gold as if a fire were burning inside him.
And then he charged.
A reckless, hopeless, desperate move — but his entire body screamed to survive.
He was struck in mid-stride by the assassin's blade— And chaos broke out again in the room.