Chapter 11

Mordo looked at the man in front of him, whose face was flushed with excitement, and his own smile grew even wider.

Good man? he thought with a sneer.

Ha! Soon, I'll extract your soul for my training. I'll take your organs one by one and sell them, boil your flesh into oil, and turn your bones into snacks for Venom.

I wonder if you'll still call me a good man then.

Just as Mordo's thoughts drifted into his dark intentions, he heard Russell say, "Then I won't be polite." Mordo dismissed the comment and responded with a welcoming smile.

"Of course, you're welcome!" he said. "Since the Captain sent you here, it means he trusts you. If you need anything, just ask!"

Mordo felt he had Russell right where he wanted him—likely only looking for food, clothing, maybe some rest. Nothing that couldn't be taken back later. After all, a fresh "guest" would fetch a good price once... repurposed.

Then, he noticed a glimmer in Russell's eyes, as if they were actually shining.

Wait… are they really glowing?!

Before he could process it, a sharp pain shot through his hands. Instinctively, he tried to pull away, but it felt as though his hands were caught in a vise. Realization struck—he had been deceived! The "helpless guest" was, in fact, a wolf in sheep's clothing, mocking his gullibility.

And then, something even more alarming—Russell's mouth bulged as if preparing an attack. Mordo's magical intuition warned him that his life was in immediate danger.

"Damn you!" Mordo roared, channeling magic instantly. Instead of attacking, he activated his magical defenses, summoning a golden barrier from a ruby necklace. Symbols glowed across it in intricate patterns.

But just then, Russell unleashed a burning, magma-like substance onto the shield, which started to hiss and melt.

"Damn it!" Mordo's pupils dilated as he hastily muttered an incantation. His eyes turned red, muscles bulging as he invoked a violent magic that boosted his physical power, despite its side effects.

With a powerful kick, Mordo launched himself backward, retreating into the cave. Russell released the charred remains of Mordo's hands, grinned wickedly, and charged after him.

Inside, the cave's spacious interior—cluttered with workbenches, machinery, and tattered furniture—was laid bare. Russell spotted Mordo fleeing through a passage in the back, now severely weakened without his hands, and clearly unwilling to fight.

"Hmph!" Russell sneered. If he couldn't catch up to a retreating mage, he might as well give up now. Within moments, he closed the gap and aimed a lava-imbued fist at Mordo's back.

This punch wouldn't leave a chance for survival—he intended to kill.

But as his fist connected, a familiar golden shield reappeared, shattering under the force of his attack. Yet even through the impact, Russell heard an ominous buzzing sound. The cave walls shimmered with golden runes, and suddenly the ground beneath him vanished. In an instant, he was plummeting through open air, thousands of feet above the ground.

Looking up, he saw a portal in the sky with Mordo dangling from enchanted vines, grinning smugly. It had been a trap all along, and Russell had walked right into it.

"Go to hell!" Mordo laughed, believing a fall from this height would be fatal.

But then he saw Russell grin back.

Just two seconds into the fall, Russell was still only seventeen meters down.

"Times have changed, pal," Russell muttered. He drew his Glock, aimed in 0.5 seconds, and opened fire.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

By the third second, Russell was 44 meters down. By the fourth, 78 meters. All fifteen bullets in the magazine had been spent.

As he fell, he watched Mordo's body hang limp in the vines, his eyes wide in shock and regret. Blood dripped from his chest, cascading down through the portal.

Baron Mordo was dead.

Russell silently thanked the Hydra captain who'd trained him. With elite marksmanship skills, he had drawn, aimed, and fired in a fraction of a second, hitting his mark despite the precarious circumstances. Four bullets had struck true.

He had won.

Just then, a familiar voice from his system rang in his ears:

[Looting entry completed!]

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