"Never seen you hunt before."
Kael's voice was quiet over the hum of the engine. His eyes traced Percy's profile—the sharp jaw, the dark hair pulled back, the calm set of her mouth.
Percy glanced at him. Then faced forward.
The car released nitro. Tires glowed—blue-white, burning, hungry.
"You won't see me," she said. "But you will see me."
She lit a cigar. Placed it between her lips. Smoke curled up toward the roof, thin and gray.
Kael gazed at her.
"A mission?" he asked.
"Also a training." She exhaled. "Also a test."
Silence.
The car drove.
Percy's voice was casual. Like she was discussing dinner plans.
"I found Calvin when he was fourteen. He was too scared to become a hunter. Took him a year just to step through a portal." She paused. "He's only recently started hunting. But there's one thing he's good at."
She looked at Kael.
"Driving."
Kael said nothing.
"The Deep Slums will be gone in one week." Percy's tone didn't change. "Four of us—you, me, Tracy, Calvin—will be moving to the Mid-Spires. Your ID will be changed. Money will be sent to your accounts."
She took a long drag from her cigar.
"But you'll still work for me. In return."
Kael nodded slowly.
"And that's why you need to learn how to drive crazy."
She reached into the console. Pulled out two guns—matte black, sleek, heavy. Handed them to Kael.
He stared at them. Turned them over in his hands. Weighed them.
Then he cocked each one. Quick. Smooth. Like he'd done it a thousand times.
Percy nodded. "Yeah."
She faced the road.
"Watch me. Then kill the targets."
Giggle!
Crucify stirred in the back of Kael's skull. Warm. Pleased.
"Fun," the voice whispered.
The car drove onto a network of highways—what used to be the EL Roads. Electro-luminescent strips that once glowed like veins of light. Now they were dead. Black. Cracked.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Above them, a tall building rose against the bruised sky.
Two men sat near the edge. One slid a fat envelope across the table. DC credits spilled out—glowing golden-green coins, stacked and banded.
"This is your pay." The first man's voice was low. "Find out every gang's whereabouts. Only your gang will live here peacefully."
The assassin nodded. His face was hard. His eyes were empty.
"Yeah. Okay."
The building buzzed with movement. Thugs loitered near the edges. Hunters checked their weapons. Cigars burned in the dark.
"You have two days." The first man leaned forward. "And make sure you—"
A bullet spun through the air.
Glowing. Screaming.
It pierced through his eye.
The man froze. His mouth went limp. His body didn't understand what had happened yet.
The assassin stared at him.
Silence.
Then bullets fired.
The man's skull shattered. Blood spewed across the table. Across the envelope. Across the golden-green coins.
"Shit!"
The assassin dove. Hit the ground flat. Rolled behind a concrete pillar.
Kael brought the gun up.
P70. Compact. Deadly.
He fired at the glass windows of the tower—from the first floor to the highest. Bullets traced lines of fire across the building's face. Blood stained the glass. Bodies dropped.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Each shot found a target.
Percy drove. The car turned, tires screeching, following the curve of the highway.
The assassin saw the car.
His teeth ground together.
"No way," he hissed. "No way are you getting from my grip this time."
He dove from the tower. His hands gripped a long pole—slid down, sparks flying, boots hitting metal. His gang members scrambled below. Car engines roared to life.
One car drove toward him.
"Boss—"
Boom.
The assassin put a round in the driver's head before he could finish the word. Blood sprayed across the windshield. The assassin grabbed the wheel, shoved the corpse aside, and took the wheel.
"Fucking 'boss your mouth," he muttered to the dead man.
"How many cars are behind?" Percy's voice was calm.
Kael was about to turn.
"Five!"
Crucify's voice erupted in his skull. High-pitched. Giggling.
"Five! Five! They are going to kill us all! Yay! Whoa!"
Kael looked back. Saw the racing cars. Five of them. Low to the ground. Engines screaming.
He turned forward. Shook his head. Signed in silence.
"Five," he said.
"Good."
Percy pressed the gas. The car surged forward.
The assassin's eyes narrowed.
His biogenes were high—Mutated Class. Even outside Mystical Eraland, where soul weapons couldn't be summoned, his body was a weapon. Faster than any normal human. Stronger than a hundred boxers. His vision was sharp enough to count the stitches on Kael's hoodie from a hundred meters away.
He cocked his machine gun. Rolled it on.
His roof opened. He looked below through a lens.
And saw a gun pointed at his windshield.
"Shit."
Bullets fired.
His car swerved left. Gang members returned fire—bullets tearing through the air, sparking off the highway, cracking the dead EL strips.
Percy turned the car right. Entered another road.
She glanced at Kael.
How come? she wondered. With no training. He doesn't even miss.
Kael listened to electronic beats.
His headset glowed. The rhythm pulsed through his skull—low and thrumming. Each peak, he fired. Each beat, a bullet.
Thump. Bang.
Thump. Bang.
Thump. Bang.
His body moved with the music. His eyes tracked the targets. His fingers pulled the trigger like breathing.
"Damn you!"
The assassin's machine gun fired explosive rounds.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
His gang's cars boosted forward. Opened fire.
Percy's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror.
"Okay," she said. "Let's begin the maze."
She hit the gas pedal. All the way down.
The car screamed.
Kael could barely see—the wind was too fast, the world was a blur. But he kept firing. Bullets flew back. One found a driver's head. His steering wheel turned. His car clashed with another. Both vehicles fell off the highway road—tumbling, spinning, metal screaming.
Boom.
They exploded. Fire bloomed against the dark sky.
Percy swerved left.
Then right.
Then left again.
She took turns from one direction to another—no pattern, no rhythm, just chaos. The car drifted sideways. Tires smoked. The highway became a blur of dead lights and cracked concrete.
Kael raised his gun again.
A bullet hit his chest.
The assassin had fired—a spread of rounds, wild and desperate. One caught Kael in the shoulder. He fell backward. Slid against the seat. His gun clattered.
Percy glanced at him.
"Oh my."
She didn't sound scared. Just... surprised.
"Seems the training ends now."
The roof closed. The wind stopped howling. Kael sat up, panting, his hand pressed to his shoulder. Blood seeped between his fingers.
"Sorry," he said.
"No need." Percy's voice was flat. "You did well."
She halted the car.
Tires screeched. The vehicle stopped in the middle of the highway.
"It's my turn."
The car turned around. Rotating. Facing the oncoming headlights.
Screech.
Percy's eyes narrowed.
She snapped her fingers.
An invisible wall of fire erupted behind the car—tall, blazing, hungry. The heat was immense. The light was blinding.
Then she boosted.
Vroom!
The car shot forward.
Kael stared at her.
"What the hell—"
"It is the end!" Crucify screamed in his skull.
The assassin's mouth fell wide open.
"Jeez!"
Percy's car wasn't driving anymore.
It was flying.
A blue force field wrapped around it—glowing, crackling, humming with power. The car rotated above the highway. Somersaulting. Spinning. Kael was upside down, midair, his blood floating in zero gravity.
Oh, he thought. So this was her plan.
The car landed.
BOOM.
And sped.
The assassin looked front. Back.
Fire engulfed the three cars of his gang—consumed them, melted them, turned them to ash.
He was alone.
Percy's taillights disappeared into the darkness.
The assassin sat in his ruined car.
Smoke rose from the dashboard. Blood dripped from a cut on his forehead.
He didn't move.
He just stared at the empty highway.
And whispered:
"Who the hell is she?"
End of Chapter Eleven.