"Extreme Night, the target is in the room at the end of the left corridor on the 19th floor. The highest level you can reach with the public elevator you're is the 18th floor. The signal jamming device in the building is too strong. After you enter, I won't be able to provide help. There's still one minute to go before the building's surveillance system returns to normal. Be careful."

A slight vibration came from the earpiece.

"Understood."

As I responded, I twisted the neck of the last guard in the underground garage.

This mission.

It was the assassination of the Speaker of the Western Alliance Congress, Domon, and obtaining the documents in his safe.

According to the informant, Domon was ostensibly the Speaker of Parliament and the President's right-hand man.

However, in secret, he was a monster. One conducting human experiments and developing bacterial weapons in an attempt to start a war between the East and West.

Right in this building, there was a large amount of evidence of him performing those deeds.

Of course.

As the only Diamond-level killer in the world's infamous assassination organization, Doomsday Blade,

I don't care who I kill, I only care if the mission is completed.

After all.

The meaning of my life is to complete the missions of the organization and become a 'mortal weapon' in the eyes of the President.

This time.

There would be no exception either.

Drip!

A trace of pain came from the side of my left pinky. A few drops of blood fell silently.

This was the third injury in my 15-year career as a killer.

I glanced at the ten fallen bodies on the ground and tore off a piece of cloth to bandage the wound on my left hand.

I must admit, these people were elites who were the cream of the crop and were very seasoned.

Just as I stabbed the golden needle into the neck of the ninth guard, the last guard threw a dagger and cut the pinky of my left hand. Perhaps he was more confident in his throwing skills than using a gun.

But it also gave me the opportunity to break his neck so that no one could fire a warning shot.

I finished bandaging my wound.

My gaze stopped on a body about my size.

It would probably be more convenient to enter this building in their attire.

A full camouflage uniform with helmet and goggles, a titanium alloy bulletproof vest, the government's latest MK-25 submachine gun, the National Defense Forces' standard Clooney-style pistol, and a seven-inch alloy steel dagger.

I changed into this set of equipment, took off ear piece (where hundreds of millions were available in total worldwide) in my ear, crushed it, and tossed it into the sewer.

I pressed the elevator button for the 18th floor.

The elevator doors opened.

I stepped into the elevator and turned around.

The four corpses reflected in my sunglasses stood against the wall, maintaining posture of holding their guns on alert. The other five sat around a table at the side.

The silver needles pierced their acupuncture points and killed them instantly.

They died without a trace of pain. Other than the last unlucky fellow, everyone else could be put into the positions I wanted them to be in.

Just from the surveillance footage, it was definitely impossible to tell that they were dead.

"Ding dong! 18th floor!"

A pleasant female voice sounded.

"Johnny, where are we going for dinner tonight?"

"Oh, I haven't thought about it yet. We'll see about it tonight."

I heard two lines from an ordinary conversation outside.

I held the grip of the submachine gun with my right hand, took out a few silver needles with my left hand and hid them in my hand. I was prepared to strike the enemy first if I was discovered.

The elevator doors opened.

Two guards in the same uniform as me chatted idly.

When they saw me coming out of the elevator, they only glanced at me casually before continuing their chat.

The long period of peace had long since allowed them to let down their guard.

I successfully turned into the corridor and searched for the stairs to the 19th floor.

In the corridor.

Men and women in government office attire were everywhere, and guards like me seemed commonplace to them.

Without much effort, I was on the stairs to the 19th floor.

"Joe, what are you doing there? We're not allowed on the 19th floor. Have you forgotten? It's our rest day tomorrow, do you want to go for a drink?"

The sudden voice behind me made my body tense up abruptly.

I turned back.

A man in uniform holding a helmet in his hand stood in the corridor and waved at me enthusiastically.

Clearly.

He had taken me for an acquaintance.

But.

This was news that could not be worse.

As expected, it matched that saying.

You never know which will come first, the accident or tomorrow.

"Joe?"

Seeing that I didn't reply, he called out again tentatively, but his expression clearly changed. His right hand was already on the submachine gun.

Without hesitation, I sped up and rushed down the stairs.

He had to die here silently to buy me some time.

The man instantly raised his gun.

"Ah~"

Then, an urgent cry suddenly sounded.

Because a silver needle had already been nailed to his finger that was reaching for the lock of the gun.

I took the opportunity to dash forward and grab him by the throat. I pressed down with my index finger and thumb at the same time.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out at the same time.

D*mn it!

His other hand was at his waist, his finger on the trigger. His pistol was actually unlocked.

Indeed.

None of the fellows here were mediocre.

Contrary to the ones on the basement floor, he was prepared to pull out his gun and shoot at any time. He was not even worried that his pistol would misfire.

For a moment.

Alarm bells rang between floors, and the sound of guards running could be heard everywhere.

As for me, I rushed to the 19th floor.

"Stop there! You guards shouldn't be here. This place belongs to us!"

Four men in black suits and pistols charged toward the stairs and shouted at me.

What a kind reminder, but it won't pay off!

"Pa, pa, pa, pa…"

After a few shots, four bloody holes appeared between their brows.

I was glad that the guys on the 19th floor weren't equipped with helmets, which made it easier for me to aim.

More men in black poured in.

But I didn't stop moving.

The end of the corridor on the left was my destination.

More and more men in black fell until there was no one left standing in front of me.

I saw the door of the room.

Except.

A large net of infrared lasers began to roll from the office door.

The broken chandeliers and bonsais shattered. Everything solid in the corridor was being torn apart.

Calculating the speed at which the lasers moved, I searched for the location of its source.

Thud!

The rolling laser cage less than a meter in front of me stopped abruptly.

I dropped the unloaded submachine gun, drew the pistol from my belt, and moved to the office door.

It was an alloy bulletproof door that could only be unlocked with a palm print password and iris recognition.

I scooped up the bodyguard closest to the door from the ground and pushed his eyelids open.

Why him?

Because his hand was still on the palm-print lock of the laser transmitter. He was one of the Speaker's trusted bodyguards who was most likely to unlock the door.

If it weren't for my accurate marksmanship, I would have been pieces of flesh scattered across the ground right now.

"Verified!"

Looks like I'm in luck.

The alloy door slowly opened.

I raised my hand and fired three shots from top to bottom.

If the information was correct, these should be the positions of Domon's head, chest, and abdomen.

Even if he was sitting down, the last shot should have struck his head.

I stepped into the room.

There were no dead bodies in the room, as I had expected, nor were there any ambush troops.

There was only a laptop lying quietly on the table. On the screen, smoke was still rising from the muzzle of the gun in my hand.

At this moment.

I understood everything.

Swoosh!

The curtains in the room suddenly closed automatically, and the door behind me slowly closed.

In the dark room.

The white light that suddenly came on were as bright as day, and a huge projection was projected on the curtains.

In the middle of the screen, the target who should have died was sitting on a sofa somewhere, happily and relaxedly smoking a cigar.

"Yo, looks like our protagonist lived up to everyone's expectations and successfully entered my office. Haha, impressive!"

Clap! Clap! Clap!

The person on the screen applauded.

"Where is the President?"

I took a few steps forward and stared at the projection expressionlessly.

The scene shifted.

A familiar figure appeared.

"President, I just want a reason."

At this moment, I was unusually calm as I looked at the person with graying hair.

Perhaps this was the feeling as people say, despair being the greatest sorrow?

I don't know.

Because I've never had such feelings.

"Extreme Night, you're too outstanding, so outstanding that I don't know who will be able to control you after I die. My son obviously doesn't have that ability, and the Speaker also promised me that after you die, he'll let me enter politics."

Guilt flashed in the President's eyes, but it was fleeting.

"So that's how it is…"

I dropped the gun and closed my eyes.

"Extreme Night, the building under your feet and everyone in it will be buried with you. Even if you die, you can rest in peace. Come, President, let's toast to our future!"

I heard Domon's voice again.

Huh!

How generous.

cI seemed to turn a deaf ear, but I couldn't help but sneer inwardly. Now, all the evidence should have vanished into thin air.

Rumble~

An earth-shattering bang tore at my eardrums and body.

Is this what death feels like?