REBORN IN THE CITY OF GODS

CHAPTER 6 — LAST-MINUTE RESCUE

The desolating night wind carried the dense scent of soot and street dust across the eastern sector of the city. The narrow alleys usually filled with the laughter of neighboring children had now turned into a grim, silent graveyard.

The street lamps flickered weakly, as if shivering at the sight of the convoy of black armored vehicles blocking every access point in and out of the densely populated residential area.

The cleanup operation that night moved without mercy. Elite mercenary squads from the Vance family's special division spread rapidly to every corner of the residents' homes.

The wooden doors of the shanties were forcefully broken down, dragging out innocent people who could only scream in terror within the darkness.

In the eyes of the elite tower masters, the mortals in this slum district were nothing more than mere commodities—statistical figures ready to be sacrificed to harvest system points and maintain their dominance of power.

Amidst the chaos, a small rented house measuring four by six meters at the end of the alley became the focus of three balaclava-masked mercenaries.

Inside the house, Marcus Evans stood trembling in front of the entrance. The thin man with cracked glasses and a scratch scar on his left temple spread his arms wide, acting as the sole living shield for a teenage girl cowering in fear in the corner of the room.

"Don't you dare step inside!" Marcus shouted, his voice hoarse, raspy, but filled with reckless courage that defied the common sense of an ordinary citizen.

Behind Marcus, Maya tightly gripped the hem of her older brother's shirt while sobbing softly. The sixteen-year-old girl's tears wet her pale cheeks. She didn't understand why their peaceful nights were suddenly shattered by sharply dressed men carrying lethal weapons.

The ambush squad leader snorted cynically behind his black mask. He stared at Marcus from head to toe with a look of utter contempt, as if looking at an annoying bug on the floor.

"Step away from our path, mortal trash," the squad leader's cold voice broke the silence of the room. "The girl behind you is one of the priority targets for tonight's sacrificial quota. Resisting will only make your death much more painful."

"I won't let you touch her!" Marcus replied with ragged breaths, tightening his grip on an old, rusted iron pipe he had grabbed from the kitchen floor.

Although his knees shook violently and the old scar over his right eye throbbed with pain, Marcus had no intention of retreating even a single step. He knew who Adrian was—his close friend who had been acting strangely lately but always protected him.

And if Adrian hadn't returned tonight, then he was the one who had to stand on the front lines to protect Maya, his friend's only remaining family.

The squad leader waved his hand with a lazy gesture. "Finish this pest. Take the girl."

Without a lengthy prompt, two mercenary guards beside him lunged forward. Their movements were fast, well-trained, and lethal. Marcus swung his iron pipe with the remnants of his strength, but his attack was easily read. One of the guards deflected the pipe with an elbow strike that squarely hit Marcus's ribs.

The bespectacled man was thrown hard, crashing into the wooden wall until fresh blood spurted from his mouth. Before he could recover his balance, one of the guards grabbed the collar of Marcus's shirt, pulled his body up, and drove a knee straight into the man's stomach.

Marcus let out a weak cry, his body limp and helpless before being tossed carelessly onto the cold concrete floor.

"Brother Marcus!" Maya screamed hysterically, running to approach her brother, but her steps halted as one of the masked executioners grabbed her hair roughly and dragged her to her feet.

The squad leader walked closer to Marcus, who lay helpless on the floor. He bent down, grabbed Marcus's hair, and forced the man's head up. A cruel smile etched across his black mask as he saw the lingering scar near Marcus's left eye—the remnant of a disability from a past incident.

"Brave enough for a lowly human," the squad leader whispered, pulling out a double-edged dagger that gleamed sharply under the dim room lamp. "Since you're so intent on being a hero, how about we perfect that flaw on your face? Consider this a free ticket to the afterlife."

The sharp dagger was swung slowly, preparing to gouge and tear the remaining vision on Marcus's face.

Marcus closed his eyes tightly. The pain throughout his body was utterly overshadowed by overwhelming guilt for failing to protect his friend's sister.

Within the darkness of his closed eyelids, he could only chant Adrian's name inwardly, hoping for a miracle to turn the tables.

Second by second felt agonizingly slow. The tip of the dagger blade was already right before Marcus's pupils, radiating the chilling air of death close at hand.

However, before that sharp metal could tear his flesh, strangeness suddenly erupted within the narrow room.

The ambient air temperature dropped drastically in a thousandth of a second. The ceiling light bulb in the room suddenly extinguished completely, leaving behind pitch-black darkness that swallowed every corner of the room.

Not only that, the dark shadows beneath the mercenary guards' feet, which had been still, suddenly darted sharply upward like thousands of invisible needles tightly gripping their ankles.

The executioners' movements were locked instantly without a chance to offer resistance.

Before the squad leader could realize what was happening, the sound of a very cold breath whispered right beside his ear—a whisper bearing the scent of death from the deepest abyss of hell.

"You chose the wrong place to hunt."

Crack!

The sound of a broken neck bone snapped loudly, shattering the silence of the night. With a single empty-handed motion so swift and full of power, the shadowy figure emerging from the darkness twisted the squad leader's head a full one hundred and eighty degrees.

The masked executioner's body went limp instantly, collapsing onto the floor lifelessly before he could emit his final scream.