Alexander gently covered her mouth, speaking softly: “I've never held any of that against them. You are my entire world, and that makes your parents my parents too. I won't let their treatment of me stop me from giving it my all."Eleanor nodded firmly, tears once again spilling from her eyes.Alexander patted her shoulder, then stood up and knocked twice on the door: “I’m here. Can I come in?"Byrne, holding his phone, checked the feed from a hallway camera, clearly seeing Alexander and Eleanor standing outside.Noting there were only the two of them, Byrne's lips curled into a smirk. Picking up his pistol, he said: “Come in."Click.Alexander inserted the key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open.He stepped inside and closed the door behind him.Byrne, seated behind Eleanor's unconscious parents, squinted, raised his pistol, and quickly fired at Alexander.Bang. Bang. Bang.The silenced pistol emitted three muffled shots in quick succession, the bullets forming a trian

Alexander shook his head, unlocked the safety on the gun, and pointed it at Lix: “They say a strong will to live can unleash hidden potential. I believe that in your life-or-death situation, you can drive just fine." Staring at the black barrel, Lix felt like a herd of wild horses was trampling his soul. He had encountered ruthless people before, but none like this—forcing a man with a broken arm to drive. Did he not fear an accident? Lix dared not voice his thoughts, knowing that angering Alexander could earn him a bullet. Swallowing his grievances,

The thought of smashing Alexander, grinding that pathetic nobody into the ground, thrilled him. It was worth celebrating with an all-night party to vent the frustrations he’d bottled up.The repeated humiliations at Alexander’s hands had haunted Tommy to the point where he dreamt of crushing him beneath his feet.“Don’t worry.” Barton said confidently: “I’ll make sure he’s so broken he can’t even crawl. After tonight, he’ll be stuck on the ground like a dead dog.”Barton saw Alexander as nothing more than a petty thug, at most someone who’d dabbled in some backyard martial arts.Tommy led Barton’s group to the door of Eleanor’s office and whispered: “Barton, this is the place. I can’t show my face. I’ll wait in the office next door.”After speaking, Tommy ducked away, leaving Barton to signal one of his men. The enforcer stepped up and kicked open the office door."Well, well, Barton.” the enforcer sneered: “Looks like there’s a little midnight bonus here. A real beauty too."His gaze

At noon, in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town.Guards stood watch around the entire factory, their eyes trained on every corner, observing the slightest movements.Jeremy sat on a chair with a serious expression, while a dozen individuals sat at a distance, their faces displaying a mix of indifference, laziness, or chatter. Each exuded an air of peculiarity.“Mr. Mark, what kind of Warlord are you talking about? We’re renowned assassins, veterans of countless missions. Don’t let some low-ranking soldier come in and command us. If that’s the case, we’d rather handle the mission ourselves.” one assassin, fidgeting constantly like a hyperactive child, spoke up.“Karsten, you’d better remember your place. Don’t forget who provides you with your livelihood.” one of Jeremy’s bodyguards warned coldly.“Hah, you’re just a lapdog next to Mr. Mark. At least I earn my meals with my skills, which gives me more dignity than a dog like you.” Karsten Wagner scoffed with disdain.The body

Herve led his group, including Karsten, attempting to leave. If they couldn't provoke, avoiding conflict was the next best choice. The mission before them was life-threatening, and Herve felt the odds of success were slim.The assassin team under Herve had about ten people, while Draven's mercenary group consisted of two combat squads, totaling thirty members.Facing over forty opponents in total against more than a hundred heavily armed individuals with the advantage of terrain, the scenario felt like a pipe dream. Participating would likely end in annihilation.This wasn’t a movie—there were no invincible heroes. Even cinematic protagonists would eventually meet their end in scenes like this. Herve, lacking any delusions of grandeur, believed leaving decisively was the right choice.But as Herve's group took their first step, a mercenary wielding a Gatling gun raised its firepower at a forty-five-degree angle, while infrared sights from other mercenaries locked onto Herve's group. R