Chapter 18: The Price of Information

Lorenzo was exhausted.

In the past fifteen minutes, he had killed ten terrorists.

Fighting so many opponents one after another while ensuring they didn’t make enough noise to attract attention had taken its toll on him.

To make matters worse, all the terrorists were Awakeners. His only advantage was that they were all ranked F or F-, while he had reached E-rank, putting him an entire rank above them.

That advantage had allowed him to deal with them, but it hadn’t made the process any less exhausting.

And now, his exhaustion had led him to make a careless mistake.

A rookie mistake, even.

Lorenzo hadn’t expected a terrorist to be standing right beside the elevator when the doors opened on the first floor.

It was a mistake he would pay dearly for.

The moment the elevator doors slid open, a knife came flying toward his neck.

Lorenzo reacted instinctively, twisting his body to avoid the incoming blade.

He managed to save his neck, but not his side.

The knife sliced deep into his ribs, cutting through muscle before scraping against bone.

"Argh!"

Pain exploded through his flank.

The terrorist didn’t give him a moment to recover. He immediately pressed forward, attempting to take advantage of Lorenzo’s injury as his knife swept toward him again.

Lorenzo drew one of his black daggers and raised it to block the attack.

Clang!

The blades collided, sending sparks flying between them.

Neither man backed down.

They moved into close-quarters combat, their weapons flashing as they exchanged blows.

No words were spoken.

There were no taunts, no demands, and no attempts to intimidate one another.

Only the determination to kill.

Each man watched the other’s movements, looking for even the slightest opening that would allow him to strike a fatal blow.

A slash opened Lorenzo’s arm.

He retaliated with a cut across his opponent’s chest.

The terrorist struck his thigh, but Lorenzo managed to drive his dagger into the man’s shoulder.

Neither could afford to hesitate.

Yet despite his exhaustion and the wound in his side, Lorenzo refused to let the terrorist gain the upper hand.

He had two advantages his opponent lacked.

The first was the experience of a killer who had spent decades surviving in a world where one mistake could mean death.

The second was a reason to survive.

’I haven’t come this far just to die here.’

The terrorist lunged again.

This time, Lorenzo saw his opening.

He caught the man’s wrist and twisted it sharply, forcing him to release his knife.

Before the terrorist could react, Lorenzo drove his dagger into the man’s knee.

"Argh!"

The man’s leg buckled, and he collapsed to the floor.

Lorenzo followed up with a quick strike to the throat, disabling him before he could reach for another weapon.

Only when the terrorist could no longer fight back did Lorenzo step away.

He pressed a hand against the wound in his side, his expression darkening as he felt the blood seeping through his fingers.

"Damn it..."

He had been careless.

And now, he had paid for it.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on his mistake.

Lorenzo turned toward the terrorist lying on the floor.

Unlike the others, he hadn’t killed this one.

He needed information about the hostages and the number of terrorists guarding them. Charging into an unfamiliar situation without knowing what awaited him would be foolish, especially in his current condition.

He crouched beside the injured man, grabbed him by the hair, and ripped off his mask.

"Tell me where the hostages are."

"Hehe..."

Despite his injuries, the terrorist managed a defiant grin. Blood trickled down his chin as he looked at Lorenzo with open contempt.

"They’re gathered on the ground floor of this building."

His gaze drifted toward Lorenzo’s bloodied side.

"But that’s not for you to worry about, kid. Unlike me, the ones guarding the hostages are all E-rank Awakeners. You wouldn’t be able to handle them."

He chuckled, his voice thick with mockery.

"Go home before you get little—"

Lorenzo didn’t let him finish.

He raised his dagger and drove its tip toward the man’s right eye.

The terrorist’s eyes widened.

Before he could scream, Lorenzo clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Mufffff!"

A moment later, the man’s muffled cries filled the corridor.

Lorenzo worked without hesitation, his expression remaining cold as the terrorist thrashed beneath him.

When he finally pulled away, blood streamed down the man’s face.

Lorenzo leaned closer.

"I’m going to ask you one more time."

His voice was quiet, almost conversational.

"How many E-rank Awakeners are guarding the hostages? And if you lie to me or try to deceive me in any way, I’ll do the same to your other eye."

He paused, allowing the man to understand that he wasn’t bluffing.

"Do you understand?"

The terrorist’s body trembled. His earlier arrogance had vanished, replaced by pain and fear.

He nodded frantically.

Lorenzo removed his hand from the man’s mouth.

"How many E-rank Awakeners are guarding the hostages?"

"F-five," the terrorist gasped. "There are five E-rank guards. Maybe six. Please... that’s all I know."

Lorenzo studied his expression.

The man appeared terrified enough to tell the truth, but Lorenzo had lived too long to mistake fear for honesty.

People could lie when they were frightened. Sometimes, they lied precisely because they were frightened.

"Where exactly are they positioned?"

"The ground floor... the east corridor. They’re holding everyone in the restaurant’s main dining hall..."

"How many hostages?"

"I don’t know exactly. Sixty? Eighty, maybe? Some were killed in the initial explosion..."

The terrorist’s breathing grew increasingly ragged.

"Please... I’ve told you everything. Just let me go."

Lorenzo stared at him for a moment.

The man was still hoping that cooperating would save his life.

Unfortunately for him, Lorenzo had never promised that it would.

He had only promised to ask questions.

And he’d gotten his answers.

Without another word, Lorenzo drove his dagger into the base of the terrorist’s skull.

The man’s body stiffened before falling limp.

Lorenzo watched him for a brief moment, ensuring he was dead.

Then his gaze drifted toward the man’s ruined face.

His right eye was gone.

His left remained intact.

An unpleasant feeling stirred in the back of Lorenzo’s mind.

It’s uneven.

His expression darkened.

Lorenzo stared at the remaining eye.

And then...

He drove his dagger into the remaining eye socket and removed the eye.

For a brief moment, satisfaction washed over him.

’Now everything is symmetrical. Perfect.’

The feeling faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Lorenzo’s expression returned to normal as he stood and wiped his dagger clean on the dead man’s clothing.

He had more important things to worry about.

Lorenzo didn’t trust the information completely. The dead man might have lied about the number of guards, deliberately underestimated their strength, or concealed the presence of other enemies.

There was no way to know for certain until he saw the situation himself.

Still, he had learned something valuable.