SPARTAN WARLORD SYSTEM: CONQUERING EMPIRES AND BEAUTIES

Chapter 3: The World Conqueror Ring

CRASH!

The ground floor steel door shook violently under the blow of a hydraulic sledgehammer. The sound of bending hinges was followed by the marching footsteps of dozens of military combat boots stomping the wet concrete floor. The noise echoed across the vast, abandoned textile factory space, blending with the hiss of steam from leaking rusted pipes.

"They're inside!" Nathan hissed. He ripped the tactical radio off his shoulder and tossed it to the floor. The device was useless. Their signal had been cut from the source. "Move upstairs! We're holding out on the rooftop!"

Nathan pushed Cleo's back, forcing the woman to step faster up the rusted iron spiral staircase leading to the upper floor. Adam trailed right behind him. The man's breathing was rough and ragged. Yet, his wild eyes kept darting toward the silver briefcase that Nathan was now carrying in his left hand.

RAT-TAT-TAT!

A barrage of 7.62mm bullets barked from the ground floor. Hot projectiles struck the stair landing. They scraped off rust and scattered hot metal shrapnel that stung Nathan's cheeks.

Nathan spun his body on the second-floor landing. Resting on his blood-soaked right knee, he aimed the muzzle of his MCX downward. He targeted the narrow gap between the shadows of giant cotton spinning machines. 

POP! POP!

Two measured shots punched through the tactical helmet of an attacker trying to breach the stairs. The man twisted backward. He crashed into the comrade behind him until they both tumbled down the concrete steps.

"Nathan! How many bullets do you have left?!" Adam yelled from the third-floor landing. His hands gripped a Glock-17 pistol. He fired blindly downward with a staged, panicked posture. "We can't hold them off until the roof! This is suicide!"

"Shoot targets you can actually see, Adam! Stop wasting ammo on empty air!" Nathan snapped sharply. His hand moved quickly to check the transparent window on his rifle magazine. Only nine rounds left. Nine bullets to face at least fifteen elite Black Dragon mercenaries trained in room clearing.

They kept moving up, floor by floor. The smell of rat droppings and old lubricating oil filled their chest cavities, which were burning from physical exhaustion. Cleo stumbled on the fourth floor. Her knee struck the iron corner of the stairs until her silk dress tore even wider, revealing smooth skin that was now bruised blue.

"I can't go on anymore," Cleo sobbed. Her chest heaved erratically. "Leave me. Just take the briefcase."

Adam suddenly stopped. He turned around, grabbed Cleo's arm roughly, and yanked the woman to her feet until their faces were mere inches apart. His eyes were bloodshot. The veins in his neck bulged wildly.

"Shut your damn mouth, Cleo!" Adam yelled. His voice was hoarse and trembled with explosive anger. "Two dozen of my buddies were roasted alive on the highway! Ryan died crushed like a dog! Tell me, what did we die for?! What the hell is inside this damn briefcase that makes the biggest mafia on the east coast send a battalion just to make sure you're dead?!"

"Adam! Let her go!" Nathan commanded. He aimed the muzzle of his rifle a half-inch from Adam's temple. Nathan's voice was bone-chillingly cold. It radiated a murderous aura that made Adam flinch backward a step. "We have a contract. We don't ask what's in the client's cargo."

"A contract?!" Adam laughed hysterically. It was a dissonant laugh that echoed in the gloomy stairwell. "That contract died along with our exploding cars, Nathan! You want to die a fool's death without even knowing why your blood is spilling on this dirty floor?! Look at her! She knows something we don't!"

Cleo trembled violently under the intense stares of the two mercenaries. Below them, the sound of gunfire drew closer. The enemy distance was now only one floor away. Concrete shrapnel flew from the walls as enemy bullets shredded the emergency stairwell partitions.

"Tell us, Cleo," Nathan hissed flatly. His eyes kept monitoring the enemy shadows on the lower stairs. "If this thing is just a regular bio-chemical sample, Black Dragon wouldn't deploy heavy military vehicles in federal territory. What exactly are you carrying?"

Cleo wiped away the tears mixed with blood on her cheek. Her breath caught as she stared at the silver briefcase in Nathan's hand.

"This thing isn't the result of my father's research," Cleo whispered with a trembling voice. "Three months ago, my father's archaeological team excavated the ruins of Persepolis in Iran. They found an underground tomb isolated from civilization. And they found a relic. A golden ring dating back to the era of ancient Persian conquest."

Adam leaned forward. His eyes flashed wildly. "A ring? Are you kidding me?! They torched a highway just for some antique jewelry?!"

"It's not ordinary jewelry, you idiot!" Cleo cut in with a desperate look. "The lab's spectroscopy analysis showed that the ring's metal doesn't have a periodic structure known on Earth. Its resonance radiation can trigger instant mutation in human stem cells. It accelerates tissue regeneration, multiplies muscle mass density, and halts biological aging permanently! The Black Dragon Consortium wants to extract an immortality serum from the ring's compound to create super soldiers and sell them to the global oligarchy!"

Cleo drew a sharp breath. Her tears dripped onto the silver briefcase. "But according to the ancient manuscript found alongside it, the ring is a seal. A vessel containing the essence of 'The Destroyer'. Legend says that whoever can align their blood with the artifact will rise not as a human, but as a god of war capable of subjugating every single person in this world."

A cold silence crept in for a moment amidst the whizzing bullets.

Nathan stared at the briefcase and scoffed cynically. The corner of his lips curled up into a mocking smile. It was the typical smile of a hitman who only believed in bullet calibers and shooting angles.

"God of War?" Nathan muttered coldly. "Thousands of years of ancient superstition, and you modern scientists swallow it whole just because of some cell reactions under a microscope? Twenty people died on the highway not because of a Persian god's curse, Cleo. They died because of human stupidity and greed."

"You don't understand, Nathan!" Cleo cried out desperately. "That thing is alive! Every night in the lab, the ring pulses just like a human heartbeat!"

Beside them, Adam didn't join in the mocking. The man stood frozen. His tongue wet his dry lower lip. The greedy glint in his eyes burned so brightly, so nakedly, that he forgot to hide it from Nathan's sight.

"A conquering god. Absolute immortality," Adam's inner voice whispered wildly. His hand in his vest pocket traced the mini signal transmitter he had activated since they left the airport. "All that power will soon be mine."

SMASH!

The fourth-floor emergency door below them burst open, kicked in by steel combat boots. 

"They're on the upper stairs! Fire!" 

Nathan reacted instantly. Shoving Cleo behind a concrete pillar, he leaned his rifle downward and squeezed the trigger.

POP! POP! POP!

The three attackers who had just stepped inside were instantly thrown back with bullet holes in their chests and faces. But the enemy numbers were too high. From the lower floor, a barrage of automatic fire swept up the stairs like a storm of steel. It shredded the iron handrails and sent concrete flying into a thick dust.

"Run to the fifth floor! Open the roof door!" Nathan roared while pulling the trigger again.

POP! POP!

Two more bullets flew out, taking down a fourth shooter. 

Nathan pulled his trigger one more time to aim at the fifth attacker holding a suppressed assault rifle.

CLICK.

That dry, terrifying mechanical sound echoed in Nathan's ears. His magazine was empty. 

Nathan patted his tactical belt quickly. Empty. His spare magazines had been depleted since the firefight in the narrow alley. The only thing left on his body was a backup pistol with three remaining bullets on his left hip.

"The fifth-floor door is locked from the inside!" Adam yelled from above. He kicked the final emergency door separating them from roof access. "Help me break it down, Nathan!"

Nathan looked down. Through the fog of concrete dust on the fourth-floor stairs, five shadows of black-masked men with cocked automatic rifles stood in combat formation. The muzzles of their weapons pointed straight at Nathan and Cleo's completely exposed position without any cover.