True Apocalypse Game

’We got the nuclear warhead... shook the Turkish army... and entered the southern mountains...’

’Then... then there was... Kavan!’

’That bastard, he was a traitor!’

’He killed Hall and captured me!’

’Who the hell does he work for?’

’The Russians?’

’The CIA?’

’Or that Eastern Power that’s always lurking in the background, profiting wildly from the Middle East?’

Ivanovic thought as he began to inspect the ropes binding his hands and feet.

’What happened after I was captured...’

’Right, they put a hood over my head and brought me out... They must have... must have brought me here.’

’Where in the world is this place?’

Ivanovic tried to recall what happened next, but his head immediately split with pain, as if something was sending electric shocks through his brain.

He raised the back of his hand to his head and felt a sharp pain, indicating he had been struck hard.

Apparently, these guys from the Assassin Sect had beaten him severely after capturing him.

They must have kept him locked up here, torturing him brutally. He was only just now regaining consciousness.

His hands were suspended from a metal frame, and his feet were also bound, leaving him completely immobilized.

It seemed there was no chance of escape.

But Ivanovic showed no sign of panic.

He carefully observed his surroundings while listening to the sounds outside.

Wind blew in through the window, carrying the sound of rustling leaves.

’A level three or four wind. And there are trees outside.’

’The air is a bit humid. There must be... water!’

’And not a river. This level of humidity only occurs near a large lake or the sea.’

There were grains of sand on the windowsill, and fine sand particles inside the warehouse—dust and sand blown in by the wind over many years.

’I’m still in the Middle East Region.’

’Kavan couldn’t have gone back through Turkey, but it’s possible he entered Persia.’

’This must be somewhere near the Caspian Sea or the Persian Gulf.’

’Judging by the steady wind direction, I’m on a southern shore.’

Kavan had a reason for capturing him. He was probably planning to hand him over to some person or organization.

Most likely the CIA or the mysterious organization behind the "True Apocalypse Game."

’The Persian Gulf is more probable. The transportation network is better here.’

’Oman?’

’Bahrain?’

’Qatar?’

’Or... Dubai?’

Ivanovic quickly analyzed his location while bending his index finger, repeatedly scraping his nail against the web of his thumb.

In just a short while, he had made a small cut at the base of his thumb, on the side of the web.

Ivanovic then repeatedly flexed his thumb, causing the muscle tissue to ripple.

Soon, a soft metal wire, thinner than a strand of hair, was gradually squeezed out of the wound.

With the two fingers he could move, Ivanovic pinched one end of the wire and pulled it out of the wound, section by section.

It was a coil of metal hidden under the skin at the base of his thumb, a full twenty centimeters long.

After pulling it out, Ivanovic once again gripped the wire with his two mobile fingers and began to saw at the ropes on his hands.

The ends of the wire were rough, but the middle section was extremely sharp. It quickly sawed through the thick rope, leaving a clean cut.

Ignoring the bleeding wound on his hand, Ivanovic flexed his wrist, sawed through the ropes on his feet, and was finally free.

He then took off his shoes and, barefoot, quickly moved to the wall, pressing his ear below the window to listen for sounds outside.

Footsteps.

’One... two... three... five...’

’Five people patrolling outside, and I can hear their low voices.’

Ivanovic quickly moved to a corner where junk was piled up and began to quietly search for useful materials.

A broken chair leg with a long nail sticking out of it.

A length of electrical wire.

A metal candy box lid.

A broken glass bottle.

Ivanovic quickly fashioned some simple tools, hid them on his person, and then returned to the metal frame.

He violently kicked over the metal frame, making a loud crash, then dropped to the ground, still in a bound posture, looking like he was on the verge of death.

The loud crash of the frame immediately drew a series of hushed shouts from outside.

Then came the sound of a key turning in the lock. The small warehouse’s heavy iron door opened, and several heavily armed men in black masks walked in.

Seeing Ivanovic on the ground, the men couldn’t help but exclaim in surprise. They rushed toward him, cursing nonstop, clearly afraid that Ivanovic might have died.

For a moment, they all reached out to lift the frame and the fallen Ivanovic, their hands temporarily leaving their guns.

The two men in front grabbed the "dying" Ivanovic, trying to help him up.

The next instant, Ivanovic’s eyes snapped open. The nail-studded chair leg and the glass shard hidden beneath him swung out violently. One drove into the left guard’s eye, the other slit the right guard’s throat.

The sudden turn of events was so fast the other guards had no time to react. Ivanovic had already grabbed the Shotgun slung across the left guard’s chest, turned the barrel, and yanked the trigger.

BOOM! With a deafening roar, the third guard was sent flying backward.

The remaining two guards were farther away. Seeing this, they immediately grabbed the submachine guns hanging on their chests and started firing at Ivanovic.

Ivanovic dragged the first two bodies in front of him, using their body armor and corpses to block the spray of bullets. In the blink of an eye, the last two guards had emptied their magazines!

Before they could reload, Ivanovic fired the last shotgun shell, blowing one of the guards’ heads off.

The last guard let out a furious roar, drew the dagger from his waist, and charged at Ivanovic.

Ivanovic raised an arm to block. With a CLANG, the guard’s dagger was deflected by the piece of sheet metal he had wrapped around his forearm.

With a flick of his other hand, the long electrical wire whipped out and wrapped tightly around the last guard’s neck.

He then shifted his footing, moved behind the man, grabbed both ends of the wire, and began to pull down with all his might. At the same time, he bent slightly at the waist, hoisting the guard into the air on his back.

The last guard struggled desperately on Ivanovic’s back, trying to pull the wire from his neck, but it was impossible.

He was now fighting against his own body weight!

Ivanovic, his face devoid of expression, pulled hard on the wire while watching the doorway, ready to spot any other enemies the moment they appeared.

Soon, the last guard’s struggles slowed. His arms fell limply to his sides, and he went completely silent.

Ivanovic gave the body on his back a few more forceful jerks to make sure the man was truly dead before lowering him to the ground.

He then moved around the room barefoot, quickly scavenging weapons, ammunition, and other supplies from the guards. He first chugged some water and ate a bite of a compressed biscuit before continuing his work.

He changed into the clothes and shoes of the guard he had strangled, put on the man’s sunglasses, and finally walked out of the warehouse door, holding a pistol.

「It was morning.」

Outside was a small Oasis, sand, and several dilapidated-looking warehouses.

A bay lay not far in the distance.

On the walls of the warehouses were a few strange symbols: a sword piercing a heart.

It looked like random graffiti, but Ivanovic knew it was a symbol of the Assassin Sect.

Clearly, he had been imprisoned in a secret stronghold of the Assassin Sect.

This must be a very remote outpost, one rarely visited. It was likely a place the Assassin Sect used to hold targets for ransom.

Ivanovic’s eyes narrowed.

’These so-called natural-born assassins... they really underestimated me...’

Against the wall were two all-terrain vehicles and a motorcycle.

The keys were on the guards’ bodies.

Just then, the faint sound of a commotion came from the distance. It seemed someone was coming.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Ivanovic righted the motorcycle by the wall, jumped on, started it, and twisted the throttle to the max, speeding away in the direction opposite the bay.

RAT-TAT-TAT...

BANG! BANG!

A volley of gunshots erupted from behind him. Stray bullets whizzed past, kicking up clouds of dust on the ground in front of him.

At the same time, the roar of engines could be heard.

Someone had obviously spotted him and given chase!

Ivanovic couldn’t worry about anything else. He accelerated wildly, heading southeast.

If his judgment was correct, Dubai wasn’t far. He would be safe once he reached the crowds!

Just after Ivanovic fled, Kavan, wearing black sunglasses, slowly walked out of one of the dilapidated warehouses. Watching Ivanovic’s retreating figure, he said slowly:

"Dujuan... has returned to the nest."