Namkhai, Delilah, Phobos, and #1991 were riding in a transport vehicle, their hands restrained by cuffs. The vehicle was divided into several single compartments, separated from one another by glass partitions. Each of them sat in silence, only occasionally exchanging glances.

  Soon, Andok’s voice rang out. He stood between the compartments and activated a hologram before them, where the silhouette of a tall building appeared.

  “Today, your task is to clear a building of criminals and capture their leader. He is located on the top floor,” he said.

  “And that’s it?” Namkhai snorted.

  “Yes, that’s all…” Andok replied with a grin.

  “How many floors does the building have?” Phobos asked.

  “Fifteen.”

  “Enemy numbers?”

  “Around a hundred. Some of them are well-known criminals and may cause trouble.”

  “And their boss? What is he known for?”

  “Unknown. We only have information that he possesses an unusual ability.”

  “What kind?”

  “That’s for you to find out. And remember—you must capture him alive.”

  Phobos paused for a moment, running the information through his mind, then prepared to ask his next question.

  “What entrances does the buil—”

  “And are we getting fed?” #1991 interrupted. “I’m hungry.”

  Namkhai nodded approvingly.

  “Eating properly before a fight is sacred. That porridge you gave us this morning was total garbage.”

  “I eat that stuff almost every day, you know,” #1991 snorted. “Those bastards wouldn’t even give me a burger, and I’ve been in prison my whole life, by the way.”

  “Your whole life?” Namkhai said in surprise. “How old are you?”

  “No idea.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, shut up already, you idiots!” Phobos snapped. “I need information about the building!”

  “Relax, old man,” Namkhai chuckled. “Just beating up some losers. Why are you shaking so much?”

  Andok looked closely at Namkhai.

  “You’re extremely confident. I can’t help but note that. But to cool your enthusiasm a little, I’ll share some important information.”

  All four turned their heads toward him and listened closely.

  “Other squads were sent here before you. Every single one of them failed on this very mission. I understand that you don’t particularly like each other, but at least try not to kill one another before you even enter the building.”

  He paused, then continued:

  “Sensors have been installed all over your bodies, so escape is impossible. In addition, you’re wearing special lenses through them, we can see and hear everything that happens.”

  A dull sound echoed as the transport came to a stop at their destination.

  “In any case, you weren’t placed in this squad for no reason. Complete the mission, and your sentence will be reduced.”

  The doors of the transport swung open, and several soldiers began opening the prisoners’ compartments one by one. The handcuffs were removed, and equipment was issued.

  Phobos was given back his katana, a pistol, spare ammunition, and several other items.

  Dalila was handed a pistol.

  Namkhai demonstratively refused any weapons.

  And #1991 was given his “massager” - a device that helped him crack his bones.

  They left the transport.

  Before them rose a massive fifteen-story building with no windows a black monolith. Behind them remained only the transport and several escort vehicles, where the observers were stationed.

  “Comms check,” a low voice boomed in Namkhai’s ear.

  “Sound’s fine. Just don’t shout like that again,” he replied calmly.

  Andok’s voice came through the shared channel:

  “Enter the building, neutralize everyone inside, and capture the leader. That’s all.”

  “Got it… so then...” Namkhai began, but didn’t get to finish.

  Phobos had already dashed forward. He ran up a pipe attached to the building’s facade and, the next second, vanished in a flicker of a portal.

  “Phobos! Stay together!” someone shouted into the comms.

  Namkhai smirked.

  “We’ll be better off without that snob.”

  With those words, he kicked in the main entrance door.

  Inside stood several brutes. They stared at him in shock and that brief moment was enough for them to regret it. Namkhai lunged into battle.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Right after him, #1991 entered the building and joined the fight with a grin.

  Delilah, meanwhile, remained by the transport. She stood motionless, watching what was happening, taking no action for the moment.

  “Delilah, may we ask why you’re not acting?” a voice sounded in her ear.

  “……”

  “You can use the notepad we provided. The lenses record everything you write.”

  Delilah slowly took out the notepad. For several seconds she stared at the blank page, then sharply wrote a single line:

  “I’m waiting for those idiots to finish everything. Or die.”

  A short pause followed.

  “Understood. But you do realize that inaction will not help reduce your sentence,” came the dry reply over the channel.

  “……”

  Delilah clicked her tongue, looking toward the entrance with obvious disgust. She put the notepad away, adjusted her gloves, and, without glancing back at the transport, headed toward the building.

  Inside, total chaos reigned.

  Namkhai was destroying everything in his path enemies, walls, furniture, floors. Each of his blows turned rooms into ruins.

  #1991 was blowing up everything he saw. Floors, ceilings, cover the building was literally cracking apart from his laughter and detonations.

  And Delilah…

  Delilah simply walked behind them at a slow pace. Unhurried. As if everything happening around her had nothing to do with her at all.

  On the top floor, Phobos was already at work. While the lower levels drowned in noise and panic, he methodically cleared floor after floor. One opponent after another vanished, never even realizing what had happened.

  The government operators observing the mission were in shock.

  Such power. Such efficiency. The enemies could do nothing against them.

  “Who are they, really?” one of the workers asked quietly. “Why are they this strong?”

  “I don't even want to think about it,” another replied, eyes fixed on the screens. “But if they keep this pace… the mission will be completed. Are we actually going to close this request?”

  “Too early to celebrate,” Andok interrupted coldly. “They haven’t faced truly dangerous opponents yet.”

  He narrowed his eyes, watching the readouts.

  “The most important thing is that none of them does anything stupid.”

  At the same time, on the very top floor of the building, in one of the rooms, a man was sitting in a massive chair. In front of him hung a row of screens broadcasting everything happening inside through surveillance cameras. He wore a mohawk; his face was decorated with piercings. He was dressed in strange, tight-fitting clothes and a leather cloak. Nearby, hidden in the shadows, stood four subordinates.

  “So, boss? How are we going to act?” someone asked.

  “Another attack…” he drawled. “They never learn. Although these ones don’t look as hopeless as the ones they sent before.”

  “Boss, may I suggest an idea?”

  “Well?”

  The subordinate stepped closer and quietly laid out his proposal. After listening, the boss thought for a moment and said:

  “Hm… interesting. And you’re all on board with this?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve already decided who fights whom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Understood. Then bring me the microphone.”

  Phobos had reached the third floor, but instead of a stairwell he found only a row of elevators.

  “Hm… what kind of nonsense is this?”

  At that moment, Namkhai and #1991 came out from the side where the stairs. Namkhai, still riding the adrenaline from the fight, didn’t notice the absence of stairs and ran full speed straight into the wall.

  “Huh? Where are the stairs?” #1991 asked in surprise.

  Delilah approached them on foot right after.

  Then a voice echoed throughout the entire building:

  “Dear guests, my apologies, but we no longer have any stairs!”

  “Who the hell is talking?” Namkhai frowned.

  The others only looked around warily.

  “You’ll only be able to proceed by elevator,” the voice continued. “But I have a proposal for you. You’re far too strong for my regular subordinates. So why not fight my best fighters one on one? They’re extremely interested in you, and each of them has already chosen an opponent.”

  The voice paused, giving them time to think, then continued:

  “So. The guy with the katana goes into the first elevator. It’ll take you to your opponent, who’s waiting on his floor. Baldy, you go into the second. The shaggy-haired psycho into the third. And the lady into the fourth. Well? Do you agree?”

  No answer followed.

  Meanwhile, on the other side, the government operators began to speak:

  “This is a trap… They can’t be stupid enough to accept that offer, right?”

  At that very moment, each of them silently stepped into their assigned elevator.

  The workers at the screens were stunned.

  “What the hell is going on in their heads?!”

  An order rang out in their ears to immediately regroup: the operation was heading toward disaster and total mission failure. In response—silence. No one replied. The elevators continued rising toward their destinations.

  Andok only let out a heavy sigh.

  “All right… This is new for the enemy too. Maybe they really do want an honest one-on-one fight.”

  Namkhai stepped out of the elevator on the seventh floor. He walked down the corridor and stopped when he saw a small, gray, wrinkled creature about 140 сm tall standing before him. It was wrapped in a cloak.

  Namkhai looked it over in surprise.

  “You’re my opponent?”

  “Hehehe… yes. I chose you personally.”

  “Seriously? I feel like we don’t exactly match in terms of size.”

  “That’s exactly why I chose you. You’re tall, muscular, and I’m small and insignificant. It’s not my fault I was born this way, while you got everything. Thanks to your genes, you look down on everyone…”

  “What kind of nonsense are you talking about? Are you just whining because you’re a dwarf?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t understand. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Because today, you die!”

  The creature threw off its cloak. In its hands was a sphere, which it immediately hurled at Namkhai. He managed to defend himself. The next instant, he lifted his head and found himself in the mountains. A snowstorm raged around him; everything was covered in ice. He didn’t immediately understand what had happened.

  The operators watching the fight were also completely confused and in shock.

  “How did he end up in the mountains? The sensors show a different part of the planet… and the outside temperature is minus fifty-five… and he’s wearing nothing but a robe…”

  Namkhai tried to move, but an invisible barrier stopped him. He couldn’t go farther than five meters from the point where he appeared. Then a voice rang out:

  “Hehehe… you’re in my trap. I moved you to the coldest point on the planet. Now you’ll die in hellish agony.”

  “Hey! Let me go! Before I smash your face in!”

  “HAHAHAHA! I’ll let you go only when you’re dead! AHAHAHAHA!”

  “Hm… why did I get a coward instead of an opponent?”

  Delilah also arrived on her floor the tenth. Her opponent was already waiting there. His figure was hidden beneath a cloak.

  “So, you’ve come…”

  Delilah face turned cold and focused.

  “My God, how cute you are.”

  Delilah froze for a moment, and at that instant he threw off his cloak. A horrifying sight was revealed before her: a slender blond man wearing nothing but briefs, with piercings in his nipples and bright makeup on his face.

  She tensed and drew her pistol.

  “Don’t be afraid, my dear. I didn’t choose you as an opponent,” he said, producing a long whip from somewhere, “but as meat from which I’ll get unforgettable pleasure. You see, there aren’t many girls among our enemies, and I only like women.”

  She fired, but he managed to dodge.

  “Besides my ‘deep black pocket,’ I also have excellent reflexes. You won’t even be able to touch me… unless, of course, you want to. HAHAHAHAHA!”

  #1991 reached the twelfth floor and saw… no one.

  “What? They told me my opponent would be here… Fine, I’ll wait. Maybe he’s late,” he muttered and sat down right on the floor.

  Phobos arrived on the ninth floor. He carefully opened the door and noticed the enemy sitting on the floor. It was a large, muscular man with a bare torso. On his head was a headdress made of feathers, and the same decorated his kilt.

  He picked up the weapons lying beside him: a bone spear and a heavy cleaver.

  “I’ve been waiting for you, killer.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve heard about you and believe you’re worthy of becoming the last opponent of my life.”

  “Already giving up? You think you can’t defeat me?”

  “I hope so…”

  The next moment, he let out a deafening roar that seemed to compress the very space around them. Ghostly figures burst from his back, vaguely resembling him, and rushed at Phobos.