The elevator chimed softly as the doors slid open, and Alexander stepped onto Floor Seventy-Five with Katarina close behind him. Several other competitors from Floor Seventy-Four emerged from adjacent elevators, their expressions ranging from confident to exhausted.The lobby they entered was... wrong.Alexander noticed it immediately. Overturned furniture. Scorch marks on the walls. What looked like dried blood on the marble floor. And an eerie, oppressive silence broken only by distant sounds—crashes, muffled screams, running footsteps."Alexander," Katarina whispered, pressing close to his side. "Something is very wrong here.""I know," Alexander replied, his combat instincts screaming danger. His eyes scanned the space, cataloging exits, cover positions, potential threats.Near the elevator bank, a large digital board displayed a list of names and faces—the current competitors on Floor Seventy-Five. Alexander's eyes scanned the list quickly, and his heart leaped when he saw a fami

The assassin stumbled back, his nose shattered, blood streaming. But he didn't drop. Professional training keeping him functional despite the injury.He raised his katana again, this time with more caution, circling Alexander in the darkness."You're good," the assassin said, his voice accented but clear despite his broken nose. "Better than you should be. Who are you?""Nobody important," Alexander replied, his stance shifting to mirror the assassin's movement."Liar," the assassin said. "Nobody moves like that without serious training. Military? Special forces? Or something else?"The first assassin was getting back to his feet now, recovering his katana. Two on one. In the dark. Against professional killers.Normal odds would suggest Alexander was dead.But as his body settled into a combat stance he'd never consciously learned, as his muscles remembered movements practiced ten thousand times in a life he couldn't recall, Alexander felt something that surprised him.Calm. Complete,

In suite 7543, Vanessa Sterling crouched behind an overturned couch, her hand gripping the nearly empty canister of her chemical deterrent. The "Mesmerizer" as Alexander had called it—the neuropharmaceutical compound that could turn enemies into temporary servants.She'd been using it sparingly for hours now. Every time a proxy wandered into her suite—and they'd come regularly, methodically searching every room—she'd sprayed them with a minimal dose and commanded: "This room is empty. You saw nothing. Report back that 7543 is clear."And like zombies, they'd obeyed. Turning around and walking out, their minds temporarily rewritten by the compound.But the canister was almost empty now. Maybe one more dose left. Two if she was lucky and used only the minimum amount needed.And the searching was intensifying. She could hear it in the hallway—more footsteps, more voices, more coordination."Bennett said Sterling is somewhere on this floor," a rough voice said just outside her door. "Find

Smoke exploded outward, thick and acrid, filling the suite in seconds. Traditional ninja escape technique. Create visual cover, then disappear while enemies were blind and disoriented.Alexander heard movement through the smoke. Footsteps—fast but somehow silent—heading toward the window. He moved to pursue, but the smoke was too thick even for his enhanced vision. By the time it began to clear, the assassin was gone.The window stood open, night air flowing in. No sign of the ninja. No trace except the damaged canister on the floor and the katana still gripped in Alexander's hands.He released the blade, letting it clatter to the floor, and turned toward where Vanessa had been crouched.The lights suddenly flickered back on—emergency power restored or the assassin's jamming device disabled—revealing the suite in harsh fluorescent clarity.Vanessa was still in the corner, pressed against the wall, her arms wrapped around her head in a defensive position, her eyes squeezed shut. Waitin

"It gets worse," Vanessa continued. "The families—Bennett, Carlson, Miyagi, Stanford—they're all here. They barricaded themselves in their suites with their best proxies and sent out hunting parties to eliminate everyone else. It's systematic. Professional. They're treating it like a military operation.""And the hooded figure?" Alexander asked. "The one who took the ring from Anna?""He's here too," Vanessa said grimly. "I'm almost certain. This whole challenge—it has his fingerprints all over it. The ninjas, the kill-or-survive format, the way it's designed to weed out anyone who can't fight? That's him. He's trying to flush out the real threats. Trying to identify you.""Well, he's probably succeeded," Alexander said bitterly. "After the stunt I pulled catching that katana, every proxy on this floor is going to be talking about the man who stopped a blade with his bare hands.""There's more you need to know," Vanessa said. "The families aren't just random rich people. Their proxies