Oldboy 3/4

Hearing the footsteps approaching and seeing his gaze wavering, Ethan said helplessly:

— Do you need an invitation or are you going to help me?

Nola clenched her teeth. She had been detained here for more than a week since she was captured. Although she did not know who the other party was, she was willing to take risks. Now she had a gun and the opportunity to leave this facility was not going to miss her.

—Thank you.

He quickly got up and took the gun from Ethan's hand.

—Let's go fast.

Ethan quickly took the AR-15 and shot down the hall. Several bullets flew past and shot down a man dressed in black who fell to the ground without saying a word.

At that time, gunshots were also heard upstairs.

Ethan returned quickly, and Nola followed closely with a pistol in hand.

When they reached the stairs, the sound of hasty footsteps echoed from below. Ethan clearly heard the chaotic rumble of boots and the whispered orders of an approaching group. An armed team he ascended quickly, with ready pistols, his nervous movements betraying fear.

Ethan raised the semi-automatic rifle with predatory calm, targeting the first men to emerge in the line of sight. With a rapid sequence of shots, the bullets went through the air, impacting with surgical precision. The bodies fell like domino pieces, rolling down the steps as the echo of the shots filled the space.

The last shell of the AR-15 shot out of the ejection window just as the last man in line fell to the ground. Before he could fully assess the situation, a high-pitched sound of additional steps alerted him. More men were climbing another secondary staircase.

-Now or never.

With a controlled exhalation, Ethan activated Battle Concentration. The world around him seemed to slow down. Sound of the steps and his own breathing were transformed into a distant echo. Everything else became clear: the reflection of light in the weapons of his enemies, the exact position of each shadow in the narrow space of the staircase.

In slow motion, he dropped the rifle to the ground and turned on his heels with precision and in a fluid motion, pulled his M1911 of his waist and other gun from the holster under his arm.

The men who were left below barely had time to react. Ethan fired with lethal precision, each bullet finding its target. An enemy tried to target him from a corner, but Ethan shot him with a clean shot to the forehead before he could pull the trigger. Another man pounced from the side with a knife, but Ethan took it apart with a sharp blow to the butt of one of his pistols, followed by a direct shot to the chest.

First objective, in the left corner.

He pulled the trigger. Bang. The bullet went through the shoulder of the closest enemy, causing him to drop his weapon.

Second, behind him.

Another shot hit the next man's chest. As he fell, his gun slipped down the steps.

Ethan adjusted his posture, alone unto fracfastest second tion thanks to activated ability, aiming at the last man trying to cover himself behind the railing. His M1911 roared once again. The bullet skimmed through the wood before hitting the target.

As he walked down the stairs, an attacker tried to surprise him from the side, but Ethan, without even looking, shot him in the shoulder, turning over one foot to finish him off with a shot to the chest. The choreography of precise and fluid movements left no room for errors.

The bodies fell around him, and when the scene calmed down, Nola, watching from above, felt an unexpected mix of security and wonder. The man in front of her, whose lethality was undeniable, looked more like a trained assassin than a simple protector. 

Curiosity to know who the person behind the mask really was flared up inside as he watched Ethan, with calculated coldness, inspect the area with both M1911 still in hand, ready for any remaining threats.

Time returned to normal just as the last enemy collapsed. Ethan took a deep breath, sweat fell on his forehead as he lowered the steps with firm steps. The echo from the last bullet still echoed when he looked up, making sure the area was clear.

—Ten days of cooling for something like that ... Worth it.— he muttered to himself, guarding the pistols as he resumed his way down the stairs, ready to face whatever awaited him below. — What are you doing standing there? Follow me fast! —Ethan whispered, scolding her.

Nola's face blushed, and she quickly hurried to follow him with determined steps.

When they reached the corner, the screams and gunshots echoing from the central control room filled the air like a deafening roar. Ethan, with both hands firmly attached to the M1911s, took a quick look at Nola. She pursed her lips, her murderous gaze in her eyes speaking more than a thousand words. They were ready.

In an instant, they both burst onto the scene, running at full speed from the stairs. Ethan's boots barely made noise as they advanced, his movements as calculated as lethal. Nola, right behind him, kept up with him.

On both sides of the entrance to the central control room, a crowd of guards from the private prison had gathered. With pistols, swords, and clubs in hand, his intimidating presence would not last long. Ethan didn't give them a fraction of a second to react. With lethal precision, he focused his attention on guards carrying firearms. The sound of the shots from his M1911s filled the air in rapid succession.

The bullets flew, finding their destination with terrifying efficiency. The skulls of several men exploded in a deadly symphony, one after another. The guards had no chance to fire even a bullet; their surprise cost them their lives. Ethan did not miss a step, his relentless advance, his gaze fixed on the next objective.

Nola, right behind him, was not far behind. With his USP firmly held in his hands, his eyes were as sharp as his shots. Every guard who dared to move in his field of vision fell instantly. The bullets came out of his gun like bursts from a gale, knocking down anyone who got in his way.

Chaos broke out. The stunned prisoners did not know how to react to the sudden appearance of these two lethal assassins. The bullets fell like rain, and the screams of pain and fear echoed in the air as the guards fell one by one. The rhythm was relentless. Ethan and Nola moved in perfect sync, their movements as fluid as a bloody ballet.

Within seconds, the shooting was over. The guards' bodies lay scattered across the floor in front of the entrance to the central control room, like broken dolls that never had a chance. Ethan lowered his weapons for a brief moment, making sure there was no threat left. Nola followed closely, her eyes still alert, but now slightly relaxed. 

—Good aim —commented Nola, admiring Ethan.

—You don't do anything wrong either —Ethan replied, taking a look at his thin thighs.

Nola raised her head with pride. They lowered their weapons and approached together.

Nola stopped when she saw a long-haired man leaning against the wall, spitting blood through her mouth. She knelt down, pulled the man's hair away, and stared at him.

—The last time you delivered the food, you tried to abuse me, right?

The man shook his head desperately, looking at the gun Nola was pointing at him.

She gave him a seductive smile and shot twice in the face. The man's neck tilted and fell to the ground.

Ethan tore the bloody remains apart with disgust and shouted:

— It's me, it's clear!

Soon after, Joe opened the door, which was pierced by gunfire. Seeing the bodies scattered on the ground, he took a deep breath. He had planned to use Chaney as a shield, but he didn't expect Ethan to finish them all off in just a few minutes.

— Did you get the information you needed? —Ethan asked, entering the room.

Joe nodded, but then shook his head.

— Is he the director of this private prison? —asked Nola with clenched teeth.

Without waiting for an answer, he approached the table, took out the dagger stuck in Chaney's hand, and then held his head.

—No, no, don't do this. I have money, a lot of money. I'll give you everything —he screamed desperately.

Nola's eyes turned cold as she nailed the dagger to the exact place where her heart was. He released his head and the man collapsed, a wet sound was heard on the floor.

After destroying the surveillance hard drive, Ethan released all the prisoners, creating even greater chaos.

Upon leaving the building, they saw that the security door was already open. Someone must have escaped earlier.

When Nola came out and felt the sun on her face for the first time in days, she narrowed her eyes. When he got used to the light, Ethan handed him a bundle of bills.

—I think you can go home on your own, isn't it.

Nola hesitated before taking the money and asked:

— Can I know your name?

—For now we are convenient, but I promise we will see each other again soon ...Nola —Ethan said, winking at her before walking away with Joe.

That little action was strangely familiar to him, but he couldn't figure out who he was. Holding the USP tightly, Nola disappeared into the streets of the city. Unlike Joe, Nola knew who his enemy was. It was time to get revenge.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Joe returned to Corolla, where Marie eagerly awaited them.

When they got into the car, Marie felt a strong rusty smell, one that she recognized well. However, without saying a word, he accelerated and left the place.

— How was everything? —Marie asked while driving —. I saw several people escape.

—Let's go back to Chucky's Tavern —Joe said tiredly.

Later, in the tavern, Chucky brought a few bottles of beer and placed them on the table where everyone had gathered. After Joe told his story, there was tense silence.

Chaney had no information on Joe's enemies. He had only been responsible for receiving and imprisoning the people indicated by the clients. During the interrogation, all he offered was a tape from twenty years ago.

Chucky took a sip of beer and looked at the group in silence.

— What do we do now? —asked.

Ethan, playing with his bottle, replied:

—We will return to the original plan and continue searching Joe's list.

Marie, noticing Joe's dejected gaze, took the bottle of wine and said:

—Anyway, today we help many people, right?

—You're right —Ethan replied, raising his bottle.

Joe perked up, and everyone hit the bottles in a silent toast.

After taking a sip of beer, Joe put the bottle down and said seriously:

—Thank you very much for your help. Although I didn't find the person who locked me up, I got some leads and the place where I was jailed is now ruined, so at least I've relieved some of my resentment.

—You don't need to say this, those people deserve to die —Marie had the behavior of a heroic woman and blew the beer out of the bottle in one sip.

Chucky turned on a small radio in his hand, with headphones connected, and constantly changing channels.

— What are you doing?

Marie lit her cigarette and asked Chucky. She was more addicted to smoking than he was, and Ethan unceremoniously took the cigarette from her and put it in her mouth.

He looked at Ethan and then skillfully lit the lighter.

—I am listening to today's news. Due to the riots they caused today, some news should be generated.

Chucky took off his headphones and solemnly said:

—All channels are calm now and there is no report on today's events.

—It seems that the people behind the private prison repressed what happened. There is no doubt about the influence of these people —Ethan exhaled a puff of smoke and continued — Today we were lucky, his vigilance was low, next time it will not be so easy.

—Then they won't follow you here, right? —Chucky looked at them worried.

After Ethan looked at Marie, he said calmly:

—We destroy the surveillance videos. There were no guards left alive inside and all those incarcerated have been released, they should not be able to track us so easily.

Hearing what Ethan said, Chucky couldn't help but shudder.

The man in front of him seemed gentle and polite, but he did not expect that what he did could be described as ruthless, and he seemed not to mind when he said it.

Instead, Marie raised the lid of her beer with an indifferent expression.

—This is New York, we are one step from heaven and another to hell. In my experience, some people should go to hell.

Joe looked out the window. Night had fallen. He got up and said:

—That's it for today. Everyone is tired. We will continue tomorrow.

After speaking, he looked at Ethan. Ethan's performance today surprised him. He didn't look like a small town cop at all. If it wasn't for him, he wouldn't have come out alive if he had entered that place alone.

After Ethan nodded, Joe dragged his weary steps to the second floor.

Chucky also returned to the bar and continued his work.

There were only two people left at the small round table. Ethan and Marie had made a fortune today and were in a good mood. After taking a sip of whiskey, Ethan smiled and said to Marie:

— Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?

Marie stretched lazily.

—I like Italian food.

After meeting Joe, he did not hesitate to side with him, showing a loyalty and righteousness that few people still retained. Through Joe's words, Marie learned the dark details of what had happened at the factory.

Every time she saw Ethan, her heart quickened, and although he didn't notice it, she felt an intense attraction to that powerful presence. Handsome, straight, and with a shadow of danger that wrapped him like a coat, Marie couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the type of man she had been waiting for. Determined not to miss the opportunity, she wanted to get to know Ethan more, spend more time with him, and perhaps discover what was behind that cold but tempting facade.

Ethan, always vigilant, noticed the tension in the atmosphere even during dinner in the cozy Italian restaurant. Marie, for her part, seemed relaxed, although her eyes watched him with a curiosity that she did not bother to hide. They shared some laughter and a bottle of wine.

When the bill came, Ethan paid it without hesitation and, as they left the restaurant, firmly insisted:

—I will take you home.

Marie, with a playful smile, pretended to gently reject him, waving her hand as if it were not necessary:

—Oh don't worry, I can handle it.

But there was something in his gaze, an almost calculated glow, that betrayed the intention behind his words. After a moment of pause, as if reconsidering, he finally agreed:

—Well, if you insist ... —he said, willingly accepting.

As they walked together towards the car, the night wind blew gently, but the tension between the two was palpable. Driving to a small community on the outskirts of the city, after parking the car, Ethan looked at a small house on the grass.

The location was remote and the closest neighbors were tens of meters away.

— Would you like to come over for a drink? —Marie, who had drunk some wine during dinner, rubbed her arms and looked at him.

Although Marie was wearing a large gray raincoat, Ethan, with an eye, had already noticed her figure. Surrounding her with his arms, he further noticed her appeal.

Without hesitation, Ethan raised his eyebrows at Marie and said:

—Because no, the night is still young.

Then he opened the car door and got out. Ethan quickly followed her, taking her by the waist and lifting her up in the air. Laughing, the two of them entered the house.

Ethan and Marie arrived at their apartment, a tension-laden silence surrounded every step they took when they crossed the door. The dim lights illuminated the place, casting soft shadows on the walls. Marie stepped forward, leaving her bag on a nearby table, her gaze fixed on Ethan. Without saying a word, they both knew where the night was going.

Marie slowly approached Ethan, her fingers brushing her chest as she slipped her body toward him. Her lips were found in a kiss full of pent-up, intense desire, as if every second contained the strength of everything that had been contained up to that moment. Ethan, always dominant, took control, lifting her easily and pressing her back against the wall, making her feel his strength, his presence.

Marie wrapped her legs around him, getting lost in the moment, while Ethan walked his body with his hands, exploring every corner of his skin as if it were already familiar. Each touch, each contact, intensified the electricity between them.

With hasty steps, they headed to the bedroom, where the clothes began to disappear with an almost frenetic urgency. Their bodies moved in sync, fueled by uncontrollable passion. Ethan, firm and confident, led her to bed, where they gave each other up without reservation, letting desire dictate every move.

The room was filled with sighs and gasps, with the rhythm of their bodies moving in unison. Ethan, always in control, made her feel small, but safe, while devotion and hunger for more were evident in every caress, in every kiss they shared.

When they finally climaxed, the two bodies fell on the bed, their breaths choppy and satisfied. Marie, with a satisfied smile on her lips, looked at Ethan, who looked back at her, but this time with a softness that she had not shown before.

Without saying anything, Ethan took her hand and led her to the bathroom. The bathtub was already prepared, full of hot water and foam. They both got in slowly, letting the heat from the water envelop them.

Marie settled into Ethan's arms, her head resting on her chest while the water relaxed them. Despite the intensity of what had just happened, the moment in the bathtub was calm, intimate in a completely different way. The silence between them was now comfortable, full of closeness that could only be achieved after sharing something so intense.

— Did you know this was going to happen? —Marie murmured with a mischievous smile, her fingers drawing circles on Ethan's chest.

—He suspected —he replied with his calm tone, his hand gently stroking Marie's hair as they both relaxed in the warm water, enjoying the peace that followed the chaos.

And so, in the privacy of the bathtub, the outside world seemed to be fading, leaving the two of them in an instant of pure connection.

Ethan lay in the bathtub, enjoying the softness that Marie's body provided, until they had to leave, soon Ethan noticed something unusual. A noise was heard outside and Ethan asked cautiously:

— Didn't you say you lived here alone?

Marie replied:

—Yes, my mother's mental state is not very good and now she is in a center of attention for the elderly.

Ethan released Marie's long orange hair.

— So you haven't made an appointment with a friend?

Marie looked at him confused and quickly shook her head.

— What's wrong?

Ethan looked at the lights of a car that glowed through the blinds. He got up from the tub and walked to the window, lowering the blinds with his fingers.

In front of Marie's house, a car had stopped. Three men dressed in black came down, looked around, and approached the door.

—We have guests —Ethan said without turning.

— What are we going to do? Call the police? —Marie was horrified.

—No, we cannot trust the police now. If they can control some media, they can control some police officers.

Ethan went to a piece of furniture, took off his clothes and took out all his belongings. He handed an M1911 to Marie.

—Stay inside. If someone opens the door without my signal, shoot.

Marie put on the big shirt and quickly took the gun.

—Understood.

Ethan smiled at him, then put on a soft mask, took two other pistols, and came out of the bathroom.

Suppressing his anger, he walked quickly to the wall, his bare feet made no sound on the carpet. As he went down the stairs, he noticed that the door lock was shaking slightly.

He heard footsteps and a voice whisper:

—Clear.

Another deep voice replied:

—There is a car parked outside. It must be upstairs.

The first one said obscenely:

—It looks like he's showering. Maybe we can have fun with it later?

—Pa! —a slap was heard, followed by a third voice —. We are working, can you be more professional?

The first person complained:

—She's just a woman, what are you afraid of?

After a pause, the third voice responded with resignation:

—I will go first.

Ethan kept the two Colt M1911s pointing toward the stairs, his body tense, but his mind calm, focused. The muffled noise of the rising steps echoed in the air, each movement accompanied by the slight screeching of the wood under the weight of the approaching men.

The three men dressed in black advanced cautiously, their weapons ready, but not knowing that they were being watched. The darkness and shadows in the room gave them a false sense of security. Ethan, hidden in the nearby shadows, barely contained a smile when he deliberately coughed, breaking the silence.

The sound was like a bomb in the midst of tranquility. The three men stopped immediately, their legs stiff as if they had been frozen on the spot. They turned slowly, as if their bodies were rusty machines, each trying to locate the source of the noise. Their faces showed the confusion and fear of knowing they were observed but not seeing where the threat came from.

— Good evening, motherfuckers! — Ethan's voice echoed from the shadows. His tone was calm, almost mocking, as he emerged from his hiding place with a lopsided smile and a mask partially covering his face.

The men did not have time to react. As soon as their looks found Ethan, the hammer of their pistols fell with a thunderous outburst. Three precise shots rang out into the air, and before the men could even raise their weapons, a blood mist covered the space. Their bodies fell like disjointed dolls, one after the other, rolling down the stairs as blood splattered on the walls and carpet, permeating everything in their path.

Ethan went downstairs slowly, each step firm and calculated, his gaze fixed on one of the men who was still moving, his body tangled in the other two. The man, with his eyes wide open, gasped for air, his life fading with every second that passed. With effort, he raised his head and tried to say something, his lips trembling in a grimace of disbelief.

— Who are you ...? —managed to whisper, his last words escaping in a thread of voice.

Ethan looked at him for a second, his expression impassive. Without saying a word, he once again lifted the Colt M1911 and fired a single clean shot. The echo of the shot quickly faded, leaving only the silence and the slight dripping of blood falling on the soaked carpet.

After checking that all three were dead, Ethan walked quickly to the living room window.

He opened the curtains and looked out. After making sure the shots had not attracted anyone else's attention, he turned around, stepped over several bodies, and ran upstairs.

—Marie, it's me.

Just as Ethan was about to turn the bathroom door, he quickly left what he was doing and screamed.

 Soon Marie opened the door from the inside.

 Seeing her scared eyes, Ethan reached out to hug her.

 —Okay, I'll take care of everything.

 Ethan put the gun down, picked up his clothes, and quickly put it on.

 Then he put the gun around his waist and led Marie downstairs. Marie looked at the three people lying on the floor and quickly covered her mouth.

 Ethan rummaged through the bodies and discovered that apart from the car keys, a gun, and two machetes, there was only one tablet.

 He put the tablet aside, took the car keys, and got up holding Marie.

 —Don't stay there. I will take care of these bodies while you clean the house.

Ethan leaned over Marie, who was lying stunned on the stairs, her gaze out of focus from the impact of recent events. Gently, he took her by the shoulders and shook her slightly, whispering her name.

—Marie, wake up —murmured, trying to bring her back to reality.

She blinked slowly, her eyes finally finding Ethan's. Still disoriented, she put a hand to her head, trying to understand what had just happened. Blood stained the floor and stairs, but Ethan, coldly calm, gestured for her to stay away.

—Stay here, don't worry —he said in a calm but firm voice, almost as if he were used to this type of situation.

Without wasting any more time, he headed for the bodies of the three men dressed in black who were lying on the ground. With meticulous efficiency, he began dragging them one by one out of the house. The weight of the corpses did not appear to affect him as he carried them to the trunk of his car, making sure to accommodate them so that they did not leave any visible traces.

When he had finished loading the bodies, he closed the trunk with a firm click and returned to the house. He went upstairs and found Marie sitting, her breathing already more controlled. Ethan, with an air of dark pragmatism, knelt beside him, his expression harsh but understanding.

—Everything is under control —he said, lifting it gently — You must clean the blood, I will give up on the bodies, wait for me here.

Marie nodded, still a little shaky, but trusting Ethan.

—Come back soon.

After making sure his mood had stabilized a bit, Ethan drove the car with the bodies. Passing a large river, he found a remote location and stepped on the accelerator. When the car launched into the river, it opened the door, jumped, and rolled on the ground. He shook the dust off his clothes and, seeing the car sink slowly into the water, turned around and left.

After walking a few hundred meters, he stopped a taxi and returned to Marie's residence.

 —It's me —Ethan said, knocking on the door.

 Marie opened with a gun in her hand and, seeing him, ran to hug him.

The room had been cleaned, leaving only a slight smell of blood. Ethan took her back to the living room and sat down. On the table was an open bottle of whiskey and the tablet he had found.

He patted Marie on the trembling back, then took the bottle and took a sip. At that moment, the tablet on the table rang.

After they both hesitated for a moment, Ethan put on the mask and pressed the video call button.

After connecting the video, a cold and proud voice was heard from the other side.

—If you doubt my will and ability, I suggest you take a look at your friend Marie. This is a live broadcast. Are you going to accept or reject my proposal?

 As the words fell, across the screen, Joe was being strangled by a strong man, with a gun pointed at his head, his face red.

 Seeing this, Marie nervously grabbed Ethan's hand.

 —Hey Danny, what are idiots doing? I can only look at the ceiling?

 The screen turned and a man with his hair combed back and a mustache took the tablet and touched the screen.

 —Good evening.

 Ethan hugged Marie and greeted Moustache.

 —Shet, who are you? Where's Danny?

 Seeing Ethan on the screen, the face on the other side of the screen changed dramatically and he asked in disbelief.

 When Joe saw Marie and Ethan appear safe and sound on the screen, his heart immediately relaxed and he looked at the man with a mocking expression.

 — Your friend Danny and his men are swimming with the fish in the river.

 Ethan took the gun, aimed the cannon at the camera, and continued:

 —No matter who you are, I'll go find you now, and put a bullet in your head, you understand.

 After Ethan finished speaking, the video was cut off immediately.

 —Come on, we have to rescue Joe and Chucky right now.

 Through the previous video, Ethan recognized Chucky's tavern. Chucky also appeared in the corner of the video, being held hostage with a knife.

 Marie ran upstairs to change her clothes. At the time, he was only wearing a T-shirt. After he went downstairs, they left the house.

 Ethan took out the suitcase, handed it to Marie, and then drove the car with a solemn expression. Although the man in the video was indifferent, Joe and Chucky were in their hands, complicating matters.

 Ethan thought about asking Job for help, but decided not to involve him.

 Marie quickly put bullets in the magazine, thinking of the three people who had died in her home, unable to imagine the fate she would have faced if Ethan had not been there.

 In his haste, he dropped the newly loaded magazine and, when he bent down to pick it up, hit his head on the board.

 —Don't be nervous, okay, I'm here, I'll take care of you. I promise nothing will happen to you, —Ethan said, taking his cold hand.

 Marie took a deep breath several times and forced herself to calm down, although her feet continued to tremble slightly.

 — Who are they? Why did they come to kidnap me?

 Ethan shook his head.

 —I don't know either, but I found out that the reason behind this is not simple, like revenge against Joe.

 He turned his head and looked at Marie.

 —Yesterday you met Joe for the first time, right?

 —Yes —Marie quickly nodded.

 Ethan stepped on the gas and continued:

 —You have been with us all day today. When we went to the place where Joe was incarcerated, you also stayed in the car, right?

 —Yes, what is the problem?

 —So how did the person who kidnapped Joe know your address? Neither Joe nor I knew it, before today. Whatever it is, you are somehow involved in this.

 Hearing what Ethan said, Marie was stunned.