With inside help within the city, nearly a hundred assassins from the Weasel Bandit Gang scaled the high walls with ropes and entered without much trouble.
The buildings inside Steelburn Fort were densely packed, arranged along the narrow streets like fish scales.
The clock tower's hands showed it was already two in the morning; the streets were empty of pedestrians.
The bandit group followed their planned route, slipping quietly through the slums, and arrived directly at an estate whose courtyard was planted with roses.
Beside the estate's iron fence hung a plaque bearing the name and title of its owner.
This was the residence of Morin Bandelas, Baron of the Empire.
Tonight, blood would run in rivers through this estate. No one would survive.
Having confirmed the target, Boss Quinn gave a single wave of his hand, and the assassins vanished into the darkness in an instant.
Fortunately, Ryan wasn't assigned to the frontline assault.
He and two other rookies had drawn lots for a relatively easier task.
Instead of going to the Morin estate to take part in the assassination, they followed training captain Tiger, who pried open a manhole cover on the street and slipped underground.
Beneath this steel city lay a spiderweb of dense sewer pipes; their job was to guard the perimeter and cut down anyone who tried to escape through the tunnels.
...
Before long, having squeezed through the narrow sewer pipes, the four of them arrived at a wide main channel and stopped.
Even with their gas masks on, the stench of rotten water in the sewer was far from pleasant.
Carrying out assassinations was old hat for Tiger.
He found a dry spot to sit and said to the three rookies, "If anyone from the Morin estate tries running through the sewers, this is the only way out. Our job is to hold this position and kill anyone who tries to escape this way."
"Yes, Captain Tiger!"
Hearing this, Ryan and the other two rookies stood at attention and answered respectfully.
This was standard protocol drilled into them during training.
Tiger glanced at the three nervous rookies and gave a sly smirk. "Heh, relax, no need to be so tense. Find a spot and lie down, wait till the operation's over. This job doesn't need us."
One of the rookies looked puzzled and asked, "Uh... Captain Tiger, shouldn't we set up traps or something?"
Tiger waved his hand dismissively. "No need."
Hearing this, the rookie pressed further: "But what if the enemy shows up and we're caught off guard?"
"Surprise? Ha, the boss came in person — what could possibly go wrong?"
Tiger shook his head with faint disdain, as though the whole idea were absurd.
After a pause, he added lazily, "This target... that Dr. Morin is just a second-stage Gene Lock Adept. Boss Quinn has awakened his third stage — he's a Demon Hunter! Besides, even at the same rank, between a non-combat doctor and a hunter-assassin, who do you think has the advantage? Bringing you rookies along was just to give you a taste of the real thing. You won't get the chance to lift a finger..."
"Oh... I see."
The rookie's expression cleared, and the hand resting on the dagger at his waist relaxed.
"Besides, if things really do go sideways, ain't I still here? You little brats won't need to do anything..."
Tiger sneered coldly and pulled off his gas mask.
As he spoke, he pulled a silver flask from inside his coat and took a swig, then closed his eyes for a quick rest.
Alcohol was forbidden on missions, but old hand Tiger didn't care, and the rookies didn't dare say a word.
"Oh..."
Seeing the captain's relaxed demeanor, the other two rookies also let their guard down and sat where they stood.
Off in the corner, Ryan, who had said nothing this whole time, walked a bit further and sat down at a tunnel opening.
Out of caution, he chose an entrance farther from the airflow — one that offered both an approach and an escape route.
...
Captain Tiger was one of the gang's veterans, arrogant, fond of drink and women, and not particularly ranked in terms of raw power within the gang. He'd only earned the position of rookie instructor because of his seniority.
Even so, Ryan didn't dare underestimate him in the slightest.
Because this sickly-looking drunkard had broken through the first stage of the Gene Lock — he was an "Awakened One," possessing transcendent power!
(Note: The first stage of transcendence bears the title "Awakened One," the second "Adept," the third "Demon Hunter," the fourth "Great Demon Hunter"...)
Although this mission out in the field was his best chance yet to escape this den of thieves, Ryan didn't dare act rashly at all.
He was one hundred percent certain that the moment he made any suspicious move, Tiger would kill him without the slightest effort.
This was pure instinct, born of an absolute gap in power.
Even after a year of hellish assassin training that had honed his skills in stealth and acrobatics, he was still, at the core, an ordinary person.
Before an "Awakened One" who had unlocked transcendent power, the gap was like that between a child and a grown man.
This was a world where humans could awaken transcendent power — where, by consuming gene serums, one could break through one's genetic potential and gain extraordinary abilities.
Even the most basic first-tier "Black Iron" gene serum could boost a person's abilities to three to ten times that of an ordinary human.
That included speed, strength, resilience, perception, cellular activity, neural response... every dimension enhanced across the board.
(Serum grades: Black Iron, Silver, Gold.)
In terms of raw physical strength alone, Tiger, who had been a transcendent for many years, was at least five times stronger than Ryan.
Which meant that, at his current level, trying to escape right under Tiger's nose was nothing short of a fantasy!
...
Clearly, Ryan wasn't the only one thinking of escape.
Before long, Tiger, somewhat tipsy, noticed the other rookies' eyes drifting toward the dark tunnels of the sewer with an unfocused, wistful look, as if he'd guessed something. He gave a cold laugh.
"Heh heh..."
He suddenly spoke up. "First time out on a mission, and you two — 9554, 9623 — thinking about making a run for it, are you?"
"..."
Having their little secret exposed, the two rookies' faces flickered with panic.
"Don't think I don't know what you're scheming. Back in my day, I went through the same thing..."
Tiger, though, didn't seem to care. He shook his head. "Listen, kids, I get that you're not satisfied, but give up on that idea. Not only would you not last a single move against me, but even if you did get away, you wouldn't be able to cure the Zombie Serum poison in your body — you'd all be dead within a month regardless."
At this, the two rookies wilted like frost-bitten eggplants.
"Take a look at 9527 over there — nice and calm, just waiting for the mission to end. Why bother with unrealistic fantasies?"
At this, Tiger gestured toward Ryan, who had said nothing this whole time.
This quiet, taciturn rookie — mediocre in talent, sure, but easy to manage, and low-maintenance.
Hearing this, the other two rookies curled their lips in contempt: heh, just a spineless nobody bringing up the rear.
"9527" was Ryan's designation within the training corps — before officially becoming a full member of the Weasel Bandit Gang, rookies weren't entitled to names.
After all, more than seventy percent of rookies never lived to see their own awakening into transcendence.
No one bothered memorizing the name of a dead man.
Hearing Tiger "praise" him, Ryan still said nothing, continuing to play his role as the invisible nobody.
But at the mention of the "Zombie Serum," a flicker of barely perceptible darkness passed through his eyes.
The status bar projected onto his retina by his "AI Core" continued to display a countdown: [Unidentified toxin erosion detected. Estimated time to lethality: 26 days, 19 hours, 44 minutes.]
This was the method the gang's higher-ups used to control the rookies — a slow-acting poison!
Every rookie had personally witnessed what happened to someone who failed to take their antidote in time — the poison would activate, and some mysterious force would instantly drain every drop of blood from their body, leaving nothing but a mummified husk on the spot...
Tiger took another gulp from his flask with a "glug glug."
Not wanting any escape incidents among his own recruits, he continued in the tone of a seasoned mentor: "You kids just keep doing well, and once you rack up enough merit points to exchange for a gene serum and become an 'Awakened One,' that's when the good life begins. Heh heh... money, women, cultivation resources — none of it'll be in short supply..."
At last, hearing this, a glimmer of hope surfaced in the two rookies' eyes.
Ascending to transcendence — that was the true beginning of the path to real power.
And the Weasel Bandit Gang had a bloody reward system in place.
If you wanted the antidote, or a gene serum to advance your own transcendence, you had to earn points to trade for it.
And those points were earned through nothing but a constant stream of killing, robbing, and mission-taking...
By the time you'd finally scraped together enough points, you'd find you had already killed more people than you could count — and that you could never again leave this band of thieves who lived by fire and plunder.
Ryan had no intention of becoming that kind of cold-blooded killing tool, controlled by others.
He wanted to find a chance to escape this "Weasel Bandit Gang."
But Tiger's watchful eye and the Zombie Serum coursing through his own body were the two chains locking shut his fatal throat.
He never expected, though...
That on his very first mission out, the opportunity would come so soon!
This carefully planned assassination mission had, unexpectedly, gone wrong...