Xiyan's heart hammered in her chest as the room seemed to close in around them. The man at the head of the table, his cold gaze unwavering, didn't make a move. The silence was thick, oppressive, almost suffocating, as if the very air held its breath, waiting for the next move.
"You've walked into my trap, Yan Xiyan," the leader said again, his voice as smooth as silk, but carrying a venomous edge. "I knew you'd come. I've been expecting you."
Xiyan's grip tightened on her knife. The realization hit her like a wave: they were outmatched. Outgunned. And the worst part was, this wasn't just a mission. This was personal.
She darted her gaze around the room, her mind calculating the odds. The men surrounding them weren't ordinary thugs. Their movements were too synchronized, too practiced. They were soldiers—trained, dangerous, and ready for whatever came next.
Qiao's hand brushed against hers for a brief moment, a silent reassurance, and that was enough to steady her. They didn't have much time. The shadows in the room felt heavier, as if the walls themselves were closing in.
"I've been waiting for this moment," the man continued, his voice now cutting through the silence like a blade. "For you to come. For you to realize who I am."
Xiyan's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
The man's lips twisted into a smile, a cruel and mocking thing. He stepped forward, slowly, his footsteps echoing in the vast emptiness of the warehouse. "I am the one who has always been one step ahead of you. The one who has been watching from the shadows, manipulating the pieces."
The truth of his words sank in, deep and cold. Her entire life, every step she'd taken toward vengeance, had been shaped by someone like him—someone who had always been in control, pulling the strings from the dark.
"You've been my puppet this whole time," he continued, his voice barely a whisper now. "And you never even knew."
Xiyan's world tilted, her stomach turning. A surge of anger flooded her chest, and with it, a darker, more dangerous feeling—the feeling of betrayal. It stung deeper than anything she'd ever felt. Her whole life had been a lie, a series of moves made for her, not by her.
"No," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be the truth.
But as his words sank in, she couldn't help but wonder how much of her path had been shaped by forces she had never seen. Had she been manipulated this whole time?
The man at the head of the table laughed softly, as though reading her mind. "Oh, Xiyan. You're finally starting to understand."
Qiao's voice broke through the tension. "We need to get out. Now."
But before they could make a move, the door to the warehouse slammed shut with a deafening thud, trapping them inside. Xiyan spun around, but it was too late. Figures had appeared in the shadows, surrounding the entrance, cutting off their escape.
The leader clapped his hands once, slowly, and the room fell silent again. "No one leaves until I say so."
Xiyan's pulse quickened. Every muscle in her body screamed for action. But she couldn't rush in blind—not against an enemy this well-prepared. She'd have to think her way out.
She glanced at Qiao, whose eyes were already scanning the room, calculating their options. He knew as well as she did that this wasn't a simple fight anymore. This was a battle of wits, of survival. And the longer they stayed here, the harder it would be to escape.
The leader took another step forward, his eyes cold and calculating. "I could have let you live, Xiyan. I could have let you walk away from this. But I needed you to see the truth. To see that your path was always my doing."
"You've been controlling everything?" Xiyan demanded, her voice trembling with fury. "My past, my missions—everything?"
"Yes," he replied, his tone dripping with malice. "You've been nothing more than a pawn in my game. A pawn with potential, yes. But a pawn nonetheless."
Xiyan felt the ground slip out from under her. Every move she'd made, every person she'd killed, had been part of his plan. Her vengeance, her search for justice, had all been manipulated by him. And now, here she was—trapped, powerless.
No. The word echoed in her mind like a drumbeat. She wasn't powerless. She couldn't be. Not after everything she'd been through.
Qiao's voice cut through her thoughts. "We can't stay here. They'll corner us."
His words brought her back to reality. Her emotions were a distraction now. She couldn't let herself fall into despair. There was a way out. There had to be.
"There's a way out," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else. "There has to be."
She scanned the room again. The men around them were still, watching, waiting for her next move. The leader's smug expression only fueled her determination. She wasn't going to let him win. Not like this.
Without warning, she moved. She dashed forward, her body low to the ground, aiming for the nearest group of guards. Her knife flashed in the dim light, cutting through the air with precision. In the chaos, Qiao was right beside her, a blur of motion as he disarmed one man, then another, moving with a speed that left no room for error.
The leader's voice rang out, mocking and cold. "Foolish girl. Do you really think you can escape me?"
But Xiyan wasn't listening anymore. She didn't care what he thought. This wasn't about him. It was about her—about surviving, about taking control of her fate.
With a swift motion, she grabbed a grenade from her belt and tossed it toward the far corner of the room. The explosion rocked the building, a deafening sound that shattered the tension and sent dust falling from the rafters.
The room erupted into chaos. For a moment, everything was confusion—screams, the sounds of bodies hitting the floor, the rush of adrenaline. Xiyan and Qiao moved with a single purpose: get out.
Xiyan's heart pounded in her chest as she and Qiao raced toward the exit. But before they could reach it, the leader's voice cut through the noise again.
"This isn't over, Xiyan. Not by a long shot."
Xiyan's jaw clenched, but she didn't look back. She couldn't. If she did, she might lose the fire that kept her going.