Dark and damp, the roar of tires striking the seams of asphalt above the overpass echoed like endless thunder. Down below, between towering concrete pillars covered in graffiti and moss, the world seemed to stand still. The stench of wet garbage, rusted metal, and thickened poverty became the air Vittorio Valdieri was forced to breathe.His steps dragged, leaving a trail of blood quickly swallowed by pools of black water. His body felt as if it were being roasted over fire, yet his skin was ice cold.“One more step. Don’t fall now, Valdieri,” he whispered, his voice nearly lost beneath the noise above.His vision began to spin. The light filtering through gaps in the overpass stabbed at his eyes like blades. In a slightly drier corner, he saw a cluster of figures huddled beneath thick cardboard sheets.“Hey, you!”A sharp, high voice stopped him.Vittorio turned with what little strength he had left. A boy, perhaps eight years old, his face smeared with soot and grime, stared at him w

The smell of burned plastic and thick dust greeted Vittorio Valdieri as he stepped into the half-charred remains of a former high school. In this forgotten corner of the lower district, the blackened concrete structure stood like a monument to government failure. Silas led the way with a small flashlight in his hand, its beam dancing over the wreckage of broken desks and wooden chairs.“The computer lab on the second floor still has power from an illegal line tapped by street hackers,” Silas whispered. “They use this place to mine data and run illicit transactions. But tonight, it’s empty. They’re all partying downtown.”Vittorio nodded faintly. His steps felt lighter than they had that morning, though waves of nausea from withdrawal still struck his gut from time to time. “Good. I need machines that cannot be traced by Antonio’s central system.”They reached a room with windows boarded shut. Inside, three custom-built computers with tangled cables still hummed softly in the darkness.

Vittorio Valdieri’s footsteps echoed through the narrowing sewer tunnel. The trickle of wastewater beneath his boots sounded like the whispers of a thousand restless spirits demanding vengeance. Behind him, Silas walked with labored breathing, his left hand still pressing against the gunshot wound wrapped in a crude bandage. Pico led the way ahead, carrying a small flashlight whose beam was beginning to fade.“How much farther, Pico?” Vittorio asked. His voice sounded hollow, trembling under a cold that cut straight through Leo Ravelli’s bones.“Ten more minutes, sir,” Pico replied without turning back. “There’s an old pump control room that’s not on any city map. My father used to work there before everything fell apart.”“Good,” Vittorio murmured. He paused for a moment, leaning his shoulder against the slick concrete wall.“Don, are you all right?” Silas stepped closer, his face etched with concern. “Your face… you look like a corpse.”Vittorio drew a short breath that felt sharp i

The northern mountain fog wrapped around the dark blue van like a damp shroud. The cracked asphalt road gradually gave way to a slick, rocky trail, forcing Silas to grip the wheel tighter. Beside him, Vittorio Valdieri stared out the window, his eyes scanning the towering line of pine trees, searching for a sign that had never existed on any map.“We’ve passed the old marble quarry boundary, Don,” Silas said, his voice trembling slightly as the cold air seeped in through the door seams. “There’s nothing but cliffs ahead. If your coordinates are wrong, we’ll be stranded up here by nightfall.”Vittorio pointed toward a protruding rock face on the left. “Stop behind that large boulder. Kill the lights and the engine.”Silas obeyed. Silence fell instantly, leaving only the sound of water droplets falling from the pine needles onto the van’s metal roof.“Why are we stopping here? There’s no door,” Silas asked, gripping his pistol as his eyes scanned the surroundings.“A visible door is a d

Valdieri Plaza rose like a silver blade piercing the black clouds above the city. The electric blue neon lights wrapping around each floor radiated absolute luxury, as if the building were an ivory tower where new gods resided. Yet beneath its concrete foundation, in the darkness of sewer tunnels reeking of rust and wastewater, three figures crept toward the heart of the enemy’s defenses.Vittorio Valdieri stopped before a mud-covered iron-barred door. He drew a short breath, feeling Leo Ravelli’s lungs tremble under the pressure of adrenaline. His black suit was now slightly stained with dirty water, yet his aura remained unshaken.“Pico, is this the way?” Vittorio asked, his voice echoing low through the narrow corridor.“Yes, Master,” Pico whispered, pointing upward toward a maintenance hatch hidden behind massive steam pipes. “It leads directly to the main transformer room on basement level three. My father said it’s the only blind spot not monitored by The Circle’s thermal sensor