The underground bar breathed with a heavy, suffocating heat. Bass heavy music throbbed through the floorboards, vibrating in the chests of the patrons.
Above the sticky, alcohol-stained floor, dim neon lights cast a crimson and violet glow over the crowd. Half-clothed dancers swayed and sang atop the elevated stages, their movements listless yet provocative, while below them, intoxicated men reached out with greedy, wandering hands.
In the furthest, darkest corner, far from the flashing lights, was a long couch. Slumped upon it was a young woman.
She was an unsettling sight. A tangled mass of black hair veiled her face, hiding every feature. Her right sleeve was soaked in dark, drying blood, and her body remained so utterly motionless that she appeared to have departed from the living world hours ago.
Standing a few inches away from her were three men, their shadows stretching long across her form.
She was swallowed by a massive, shapeless, and heavy dress that looked like a sack of rags.
"Yori, do you think this girl is dead already?" the youngest of the trio asked, his brow knitting in a mix of curiosity and disgust as he nudged the toe of his boot against the couch. He glanced toward the black-haired man standing at his center.
Yori snorted coldly, his eyes staring down at the lady with a predatory light. "Even if she is dead, I’ll have to see if she’s worth the coin. I’ll fuck her soulless body until I break her. Who cares if she’s breathing or not?"
The third companion chuckled darkly, crossing his arms. "Damn, Yori. Let’s at least see her face first. That will determine what kind of flavor we’re dealing with. Look at that hair—tangled over her skin like ugly veins. If she’s a monster underneath, it’s going to ruin the fun, trust me."
Yori’s eyes narrowed to thin slits. "True," he murmured.
Licking his dry lips, he reached out a hand, intending to tear the dense web of hair away from her face. But the moment his fingers brushed the dark strands, a pale, blood-stained hand shot upward with blinding speed.
Before Yori could even register the movement, her fingers clamped around his wrist. With a sharp, sickening crack, she twisted his arm.
"Haaaa!"
Yori’s agonizing shriek tore through the immediate corner of the bar, instantly paralyzing his two companions with shock.
The young woman didn’t hesitate. Standing upright from the couch, she delivered a ruthless, bone-shattering punch straight into Yori’s jaw. The force of the blow lifted him off his feet, sending him crashing backward into a wooden table.
The surface shattered instantly, showering the floor in shattered glass and cheap alcohol. In a single, fluid motion, she jumped over the high back of the long couch, using it as a barrier.
"What the hell is this covering my face?" she cursed, her voice thick with raw frustration.
Behind the couch, she clawed desperately at her head, trying to undo the stubborn, tangled mess of hair. But the knots were thick and dense, seemingly impossible to untangle.
"What on earth did you use to hide my face? I can’t fucking breathe properly!" she shouted, her irritation peaking.
Relying on her sharp senses, she swung her head wildly toward the direction of the remaining two men, her vision entirely obscured.
On the floor, Yori groaned in pain. Blood trickled down his forehead from where he had struck the floor. He tried to push himself up, but his bones felt as though they had been broken by a single strike. His mind raced in sheer disbelief. "How did this half-dead girl suddenly become so powerful?" He thought in disbelief.
"You should ask yourself that question, not us!" Yori spat, coughing up blood as he glared at her. "With that sorrowful hair of yours—so damn thick and tangled!"
The lady went entirely still. The desperate clawing stopped.
"Seems like you are out of your mind," she murmured, her tone dropping into a chilling yet calm.
She extended her right hand. In an instant, the air warped. With a faint, digital hum, a sleek, compact handgun appeared out of thin air directly into her palm. She leveled the barrel straight at Yori’s head.
Yori’s breath hitched. His braveness vanishing immediately, and he scrambled backward on his elbows, raising both hands into the air. The other two men froze as well, their faces draining of color as they immediately raised their hands up in surrender.
"That’s... that’s a gun you’re holding. It’s not a toy," Yori stammered, his heart beating violently against his chest. "Where did she get a gun? How did it just appear?" He thought.
A low, exhausted sigh escaped the lady’s lips. "Tsk. So annoying, do I look like a little girl to you? Lunatics."
She didn’t hesitate. Her finger squeezed the trigger three times.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Three smooth shots echoed in rapid succession, masked largely by the heavy bass music of the bar. The three men collapsed, their eyes wide with terror as life drained from their bodies. The moment the threat was eliminated, the handgun in her grasp dissolved into light, vanishing without a trace.
She intend to peer through the curtain of her hair, but her surroundings remained a dark, chaotic blur. "
"Judging by the heavy music, this is a bar," she thought. "But how did I end up here? The last thing I remember was the laboratory explosion. No one should have survived that. Did someone rescue me?"
She paused. "Hold on. Who would rescue me only to dump me in a sketchy bar? What a joke."
Hissing in annoyance, she took a step forward, only for her feet to catch on the heavy fabric of her hem. She stumbled forward, barely catching herself.
"The hell!" she snapped, standing up and trying to look down at her attire. "Damn it. I need to find a quiet place to sort this out."
Hopping carefully to avoid tripping over her cloth, she made her way toward the back of the bar, ascending a flight of dim wooden stairs. She checked the doorknobs of the rooms lining the upper hallway, searching for one that was unlocked.
Finally, her hand caught a brass knob that turned. She slipped inside, immediately locking the door behind her, and reached out to flick the light switch.
A flood of warm light filled the luxurious room.
Sitting at the edge of a large, king seize bed was a handsome man. He possessed sharp, perfect features, deep ink-black eyes, and short, perfectly styled silver hair. He had been in the middle of a phone call when the door clicked open.
Instead of an assassin or a lockpicker, a bizarre, monstrous figure had hopped into his room like a kangaroo, casually slapping the light switch on without a care in the world.
The man’s eyebrows arched in amusement. He quietly disconnected the call, tossing his smartphone onto the mattress. His dark eyes tracked her closely as She didn’t seem to notice him and continued to jump clumsily across the room,until she successfully found her way into his private bathroom.
An expression of disbelief crossed his face. Yet, even though he was driven by a rare spark of curiosity, he did not move up toward the bathroom door to peek inside.
Inside the bathroom, the young woman stood before a large bathtub. She slung off the heavy sack bag draped across her torso and began peeling away the layers of her clothing. One by one, she stripped off seven heavy, ragged dresses until she stood completely bare.
Feeling her way with her hands, she stepped into the tub. It was already filled with warm, soothing water, as if the room’s owner had prepared it for himself. She slid down, letting the water submerge her completely.
As the warm water enveloped her, The thick,tangled knots of her hair began to loosen and untangle on their own. The strands softened, floating in the water to reveal an beautiful, flawless face.
Between her brows, rested a faint mark resembling an icy shroud. It makes her appeared like a goddess, yet she somehow looked entirely innocent and harmless.
Her ink-black hair, now silk-smooth, drifted around her body, revealing its incredible length as it stretched down to her knees.
Slowly, she broke the surface of the water, opening her eyes. They were blue in colour, glowing with a soft, captivating lights. She looked like a goddess rising from the sea, except for one shocking issue.
"How come I still can’t see?" she muttered, blinking severally. Her surroundings remained an frustrating blur.
With a heavy sigh, she climbed out of the bathtub, dripping wet. She bent down, searching the floor until her fingers brushed the strap of the bag she had discarded. Unzipping it, she put her hand inside and search until her fingers wrapped around a pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses.
She slid them onto the bridge of her nose. Instantly, the blurry world snapped into razor-sharp focus.
Surprised, she took them off but the world blurred instantly. She put them back on; the room became crystal clear. Her jaw dropped, speechless.
"Glasses? Seriously?" she whispered.
She looked down at the pile of wet, heavy garments on the floor. There were exactly seven ruined dresses, stiff and outdated.
"No wonder I felt like I was suffocating to death. When did I end up in these clothes? I can’t seem to remember much of anything," she murmured, staring at the pile in a daze. "Better dress first."
She scooped the pile of clothes into her hands.
"Exchange," she commanded.
Instantly, the heavy fabrics vanished from her grasp. In their place appeared a red towel and a brand-new set of clothes.
A satisfied smile appeared on her lips, she hung the towel up, dried herself off, and pulled on the new outfit, a pair of sleek, black leather pants, a matching black tube top, and a structured black leather jacket.
She turned to face the large vanity mirror on the wall. Her breath caught slightly as she stared at her own reflection.
"So beautiful," she thought, lightly tracing the flawless skin of her cheek. Then, her eyes narrowed. "But something is wrong. Though my memories are fragmented and I only recall the lab’s system overheating and exploding... I know I wasn’t this young. I’m way too young now."
She shook her head to clear the thoughts. "Forget it. I need to get out of here first."
Turning on her heel, she walked out of the bathroom, completely forgetting her discarded bag and towel.
The moment she stepped back into the bedroom, she froze. The silver-haired man was still sitting calmly on the edge of the bed, his dark eyes locked onto her as if he had been waiting for her return.
Her breath hitched in her throat. Her luminous blue eyes swept over his form, sharp and analyzing.
"Target information," she thought.
Immediately, a large screen of glowing blue text materialized in the air directly above his silver head.
[Ding]
TARGET INFORMATION DOWNLOADED.....
* Name: Cassian
*Age: 27
*Status: Highest-Rank Don
"Relationship: Single
*Disposition: Ruthless
*Current Threat Level: None
*Note: Current owner of the room and bathroom you just used.
The lady blinked, the blue text dissolving back into the air. She took one more long look at Cassian, her posture relaxing into a cool, nonchalant stance.
"I just borrowed your bathroom," she said.