Milo led them through a narrow hallway toward a door at the back of the shop, one that looked far too inconspicuous for what was waiting behind it. He pushed it open without hesitation, revealing a set of stone steps descending downward into darkness. The air that drifted up was thick, damp, and carried the unmistakable scent of stagnant water.

  Kaiser took a step forward, but before he followed Milo down, something nudged at his mind. A thought, one that had been lingering ever since he had been allowed to walk alongside these men in the first place. So he spoke. "You know," he said, voice casual but carrying an edge of something sharper, something pointed, "I have to ask, why the hell did you let me come along?"

  Milo kept walking, the soft tap of his boots against the stone the only response for a long moment before he finally spoke. "Why wouldn’t I?"

  Kaiser tilted his head. "Because we’ve just met. Because I could be a spy. Because, for all you know, I could’ve been sent by the Right Fist to infiltrate your operation and feed them every detail of your little rebellion." He shrugged, his smirk returning. "And yet, you let me waltz in here like I belong."

  Milo didn’t slow his stride, nor did his expression change. But Ivan, walking just behind them, shivered ever so slightly, as if the question itself had triggered something inside him. Milo spoke, his voice calm, even, as though this conversation was nothing more than a minor detour before they got back to work. "I let you come along because you’ve killed too many of the Right Fist’s men to be a spy for them."

  Kaiser raised an eyebrow at that. "You’ve been keeping count?"

  Milo stopped at the bottom of the stairs, reaching for the rusted metal gate that separated them from the sewer tunnels. He placed a gloved hand against it, pushing it open with a low groan of metal against stone. "I make it my business to know who my allies are," he said simply. "And who my enemies are."

  Kaiser’s smirk deepened, but before he could respond, Milo continued. "And as for combat," he added, stepping through the gate, "I have no doubt that I could finish this mission without you."

  Kaiser laughed, shaking his head as he followed him inside. "Now that’s the kind of confidence I like to see."

  "It’s not confidence," he said, walking ahead, his voice as steady as ever. "It’s perspective."

  Kaiser raised an eyebrow, waiting.

  "I know what I am," he continued. "I know what I can do. And I know that, in the grand scale of things, I’m weak."

  Ivan let out a slow breath through his nose but said nothing. "But the Right Fist?" Milo continued, voice as sharp as a blade’s edge. "They’re pathetic."

  Kaiser narrowed his eyes slightly, but he wasn’t smiling anymore. He was listening. "They’re strong to people who don’t know how to fight," Milo said, stepping over a puddle as they walked deeper into the tunnels. "They have numbers. They have weapons. They have influence. But none of them, not a single one, understands what real combat is. They’re brutes who have never been tested. Men who only know how to win when their enemies are already on their knees."

  His voice darkened, just slightly. "And the only thing keeping them relevant is that they know what people like. They know what the world has become. They know how to profit from misery."

  Kaiser tilted his head, watching him. "And what do you like, Milo?" Milo was quiet for a moment. Then, finally, he said, "I like when people do what they’re supposed to do without asking stupid questions."

  Kaiser burst out laughing. "Oh, come on, that’s the most joyless answer you could’ve given!"

  Milo didn’t react. "You asked. I answered."

  Kaiser grinned. "No, no, see, that’s not an answer, that’s a complaint disguised as an answer. Try again. There has to be something you enjoy. Food? Drinking? Women? Hell, maybe you secretly collect little wooden figurines in your free time. I need something."

  Milo sighed again, deeper this time, as if entertaining this conversation was a complete waste of his patience. "I like efficiency."

  Kaiser groaned. "That’s just another way of saying you hate inefficiency! That’s not liking something!"

  Kaiser shook his head, undeterred. "Alright, fine. What about combat? You clearly think the Right Fist is full of weaklings, so do you enjoy fighting? Or is it just another ‘efficient’ means to an end for you?"

  Milo finally turned his head slightly, glancing at Kaiser. His expression was unreadable, but there was the faintest flicker of… something. Not amusement, but something close. "I don’t like fighting," Milo said. "But I do like winning." Then, Milo stopped.

  Kaiser, still half-lost in thought, nearly bumped into him before noticing what had caught his attention. A section of the wall ahead bore strange markings. At first glance, it looked like just another cracked and weathered stretch of old stone, but upon closer inspection, the cuts were far too precise, too deliberate. Four sharp slashes carved into the shape of an M.

  Kaiser took one look and let out a laugh. "Damn, Milo. Real subtle work you got here. I bet no one will ever suspect a thing." His tone was teasing, but the amusement in his voice was undeniable.

  Milo exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Cuts on stone go unnoticed," he muttered. "The Right Fist doesn’t look for markings like these. To them, this is just damage from wear and tear. If I wanted to be obvious, I’d use paint."

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Kaiser smirked. "Sure, sure. So, what’s behind the wall?"

  Milo pressed his palm against the wall, feeling along the grooves for a brief moment before answering. "A bathroom."

  Kaiser blinked. "A bathroom?"

  "A bathroom," Milo corrected. "Right Fist’s main building storage facility. One of the least guarded spots in the whole place. They don’t station men in there because no one expects an attack to come from the latrines." He stepped back from the wall, arms crossing. "This is our way in."

  Kaiser stared at him for a moment before snorting. "Hells, that’s actually smart." Milo ignored the remark, his attention shifting to something else. He stepped to the side and pointed to another section of wall, this one bearing another carved M, slightly fainter than the first.

  Kaiser followed his gaze. "Alright. And that?" He gestured to the markings, his curiosity now piqued. "That is our exit," Milo said simply. "The entrance to the Drillex."

  Kaiser’s brow furrowed slightly. "Drillex." He rolled the name over his tongue, testing it. "Sounds important."

  Milo nodded. "It is. It’s how we’re getting everyone out."

  Ivan perked up slightly at that but didn’t say anything. Kaiser, however, tilted his head. "Mind explaining what it is?"

  Milo didn’t look at him but continued examining the wall as he spoke. "The Drillex is an underground tunnel system. Ancient, unstable in some places, but still functional. It runs beneath the entire world, connecting to various points, including here." He tapped the wall near the second M. "On the other side, it leads straight to Orlogolog."

  Kaiser raised a brow. "Orlo-what now?"

  Milo sighed. "Orlogolog. A city far to the south. Big place with a heavy Liberator presence and the closest city to the capital."

  Kaiser’s smirk faded slightly as a thought occurred to him. If a group of Liberators was waiting on the other end of this tunnel, that meant these slaves weren’t just being rescued. They were going somewhere safe. Kaiser’s gaze lingered on Milo for a beat longer than usual.

  ‘He’s strong, isn’t he?’

  It wasn’t just a feeling. It was an instinct. He could tell when someone was worth fighting. When someone was dangerous. And despite the way Milo spoke in that flat, unreadable tone, despite how little he seemed to care about anything, there was something beneath the surface.

  Something sharp. Something deadly. Kaiser grinned slightly to himself. ‘I’d like to fight him one day.’

  But for now, there were other things to focus on.

  "So," Kaiser finally said, shifting gears, "you’re telling me we’re just gonna shove a bunch of half-starved prisoners into some underground escape tunnel and hope for the best?"

  Milo shook his head. "No. We’re not hoping. We have an exit strategy." He turned his head slightly. "A friend of mine is waiting on the other side. He’s got a large group of Liberators ready to take them in. Once they get to Orlogolog, they’ll be safe."

  Kaiser nodded slightly at that. He wasn’t worried about them, though. He was here for one reason.

  Aria.

  If he happened to rescue a few extra people along the way, well… that was just a happy accident. He crossed his arms. "And this Drillex, you mentioned it was a tunnel, but what makes it so special?"

  Milo hesitated for just a fraction of a second before answering. "It’s… more than a tunnel." Kaiser narrowed his eyes. "Go on."

  Milo exhaled through his nose, as if debating how much to say. Then, he simply shook his head. "You’ll see."

  Kaiser clicked his tongue. "Hate when people say that." Ivan, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the conversation, simply nodded in quiet agreement, as if none of this surprised him.

  Kaiser squinted at him. "You’re taking this awfully well, kid. You knew about this Drillex thing?" Ivan glanced at him, then shrugged. "I’ve heard the name before."

  Kaiser sighed. "Great. Love being the one guy who doesn’t know shit." Milo took one final look at the wall before turning to face them fully. "We wait here for the signal," he said. "Until then, we talk strategy."

  The three of them settled into place, the weight of what was to come hanging thick in the air. The clock was ticking. And soon, the real fight would begin.

  Milo stood in front of the marked wall, arms crossed, his sharp green eyes scanning the stone as if he could see straight through it. The tunnel around them was quiet, save for the occasional distant drip of water echoing through the underground. The air smelled of damp earth, aged stone, and the faintest trace of rust.

  Kaiser leaned against the wall beside him, arms behind his head, his smirk ever-present but his gaze focused. Ivan, standing to the side, watched them both with that same unreadable expression of his.

  Finally, Milo exhaled through his nose and turned to them. "Alright. Listen carefully," he said. "We’re going in with a simple but efficient strategy. The main attack force will be me and Kaiser. We’ll be the ones engaging the Right Fist directly, neutralizing any guards and clearing the path. The bathroom is located at the furthest part of the building, the lowest point underground. That works to our advantage in two ways. First, it’s unlikely to be heavily patrolled. Second, it puts us in close proximity to our target: the main storage room. That’s where they keep the captives and their valuables."

  Kaiser’s smirk faded slightly, a glint of something sharper flashing in his eyes at the mention of captives. He didn’t care about valuables. He cared about one person. But he didn’t interrupt.

  Milo gestured towards the wall. "The distance from the bathroom to the storage room is roughly twenty meters. Close enough that we can move quickly, but not so close that we can afford to be reckless. Once we breach the bathroom, we advance with controlled aggression. That means silent takedowns whenever possible and no hesitation to kill if needed."

  Kaiser grinned again, rolling his shoulders. "Oh, I never hesitate."

  Milo’s eyes flicked to him, unimpressed. "Good. Because once we reach the storage room, we don’t have time to waste. The prisoners will likely be held behind reinforced locks, possibly even chained. We need to break those restraints fast."

  Kaiser cut in. "And I assume I handle anyone dumb enough to be standing in the way?"

  Milo nodded. "Exactly. The moment we breach storage, the real fight begins. The Right Fist will realize something’s wrong, and reinforcements will come pouring in from the main building."

  Ivan shifted slightly at that, his expression still blank, but his fingers twitching slightly at his sides. Kaiser noticed. Not fear. Anticipation.

  Milo turned to him. "That’s where you come in."

  Ivan blinked. "Me?"

  "You have two objectives," Milo said. "First, assist with the evacuation. Some of the captives might be injured or too weak to move on their own. Your job is to carry anyone who can’t walk, get them to the Drillex, and make sure they get out alive." Ivan nodded, and Milo continued, "Second, if there are any high-value artifacts stored here—anything we know the Right Fist shouldn’t have, we take that too. If it’s a weapon, it stays out of their hands. If it’s documents, we secure them. Anything that could give them an advantage, we have to remove."

  Kaiser cracked his neck. "And if they send too many guys for us to hold off?"

  Milo didn’t hesitate. "Then we collapse the route behind us and force them to take the long way around."

  Kaiser arched a brow. "You thought of everything, huh?"

  Milo’s voice remained even. "That’s my job."

  There was a beat of silence. Then Kaiser chuckled, shaking his head. "I like you, Milo."

  Milo didn’t react. He simply looked between them, making sure they understood every part of the plan. Then, he spoke again, voice calm but firm. "One last thing."

  Kaiser raised a brow. "Oh?"

  "If either of you sees an enemy trying to reach the Drillex before we do, kill them immediately."