Chapter 768 Attack (3)

Chapter 768 Attack (3)

"Let's go in," Erik said.

"Yes, Master."

With that, the two stepped inside the mansion's grand entrance. More guards were pouring down from the stairs and coming out of the rooms nearby.

"I'll take those on the left. You take those on the right." Erik and June dispatched their foes with the same ease of using a hot knife to slice butter.

As the last guard crumpled, a haunting silence descended upon the area. The two took a couple of seconds to look around.

The mansion's grandeur was clear in its towering marble columns, opulent chandeliers casting warm glows over silk-draped furniture, and floors of polished stone that mirrored the art-adorned walls.

June and Erik looked at each other. "This should be a safe house? What the hell?"

The vast expanse of the entrance hall quickly swallowed the echoes of their boots against the polished marble floor.

"This is really shameful."

"Indeed, Master."

Their eyes swept over their surroundings one last time before they delved deeper into the heart of the mansion, leaving behind the fallen guards and the morning's eerie calm.

"Search the right wing," Erik said. "I'll take the left." With a nod of agreement, they split up, each disappearing down a separate corridor.

Erik moved through the mansion with focused eyes and a tint of rage in his steps. He arrived to a living room.

The spacious and airy room bathed in the soft, diffuse glow of the lighting fixtures secured on the ceiling.

A large, plush sofa, upholstered in soft gray fabric, dominated the room, inviting anyone who entered to sink into its comforting embrace.

A sleek glass coffee table stood in front of it, its surface gleaming under the soft light.

On one side of the room, the wall held a modern fireplace with a few logs inside, ready to crackle and fill the room with warmth when needed.

He studied the masked man in front of him.

"You've been quite theatrical," Max said. The man's voice trembled slightly.

"There would be no point in killing you without a bit of a charade," Erik's voice was as cold as ice.

"Do you work for the Crystal Cross gang?" Max asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"No," Erik said. "On the contrary, they are my enemies."

"Then why did you send the TV message stating it was the Crystal Cross gang that was after me?"

"It was only to stir trouble." Erik grinned, but the man couldn't see that.

Max was visibly confused and scared. "Why are you doing all of this?"

"I have a goal."

"And does this goal require me to die?" Max asked. The man's voice was barely audible. He didn't even have the strength to talk, as his fear prevented him.

"Yes."

Max looked down at the ground, his heart pounding in his chest. Desperation washed over him like a tidal wave.

His mind raced with thoughts of escape, of bargaining, of pleading for his life.

But he knew it was futile. His shoulders slumped in resignation, his breath hitched in his throat.

The room seemed to close in on him; the walls pressing against him.

His life, with all its ups and downs, seemed to flash before his eyes. He couldn't find a way out of that predicament.

He felt a lump in his throat, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The realization was cold and harsh, a bitter pill that he had no choice but to swallow.