##################################
Third-Person's POV...
"The Fateful Night of XX Month, 2nd"
In the heart of the Descartes Estate, a labyrinthine mansion shrouded in Luxury and Majesty, Riyan's room was abuzz with clandestine activity. The air was heavy with anticipation, as if the very walls were privy to the sinister plot unfolding within.
It was a night like any other, yet the darkness seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if the stars themselves were aligned in favor of Riyan's nefarious design.
Riyan, stood poised in the center of his room, his eyes blazing with an Cunning stint. His slender fingers moved with the precision of a surgeon, as he meticulously prepared the tools of his trade.
The soft glow of a lone candle cast eerie shadows on the walls, illuminating the calculating intensity etched on his face.
The objective was clear: infiltrate the BlackMoon Hotel, a fortress of luxury and deceit, and eliminate the 11 traitors who had dared to betray the Sirus Organization. The list of targets was etched in Riyan's mind like a mantra for rituals: 10 insidious fools and their leader, a man so treacherous, he was known only as "The Bastard."
The very thought of their treachery was enough to set Riyan's heart racing with a happiness, calculated smile.As because Of them, He could have Early Opportunity to Make Impression on the Sirus's Leader.
But first, he needed to escape the Descartes Estate, a feat that would have been impossible for anyone else. The estate was a maze of surveillance and security, with Riyan's mother, An Extreme Son-con but also an enigmatic matriarch, ever vigilant and always one step ahead.
Yet, Riyan possessed a secret weapon – his SS Rank Affinity of Darkness, a rare and formidable gift that allowed him to manipulate the shadows themselves.And the Nightime is when Shadows covers the everything.
As the clock struck 10:23, the night air seemed to grow heavier, as if the darkness was coalescing into a palpable force. Riyan's eyes gleamed with a mischievous intensity, for he knew that under the cover of night, his affinity would render him all but invisible.
The estate's defenses, so formidable in the light of day, would be reduced to mere obstacles, easily overcome by Riyan.
With a sly smile, Riyan vanished into the darkness, leaving behind a room that seemed to whisper secrets to the wind.
The game was afoot, and the BlackMoon Hotel, with its unsuspecting targets, was about to become the stage for a deadly dance of Riyan.
...
On the periphery of the city, a majestic, 24-story skyscraper pierced the sky like a shard of obsidian, its sleek, black glass façade glinting with a mesmerizing intensity, as if the very essence of the night had been distilled into its reflective surface. The building's angular lines and curved silhouettes seemed to shift and undulate, like a living, breathing entity, as the light danced across its surface.
This was Hotel BlackMoon, an opulent oasis where the crème de la crème of civilian society gathered to indulge in the finest luxuries, their pampered existence a world away from the mundane concerns of the common masses.
Awenkend individuals, with their extraordinary abilities, were strictly forbidden from entering these hallowed halls, ensuring that the hotel remained an exclusive sanctuary for the ordinary, yet affluent, populace, who reveled in the rarefied atmosphere of elegance and refinement.
Deep beneath the hotel's grandeur, a labyrinthine network of tunnels and chambers formed the Underground Basement, a subterranean world that seemed to exist in a state of perpetual twilight.
The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth, rich and loamy, like the fragrance of a primeval forest, and the soft hum of machinery, a gentle thrumming that seemed to vibrate through every molecule of air.
Flickering fluorescent lights cast an eerie, otherworldly glow, illuminating the rows of pipes, ductwork, and humming generators, their metallic surfaces glinting like a scattering of diamonds in the dim light. The walls, painted a dull, institutional gray, seemed to absorb the sound, creating an unsettling silence, punctuated only by the occasional creak of rusty hinges or the soft hiss of steam escaping from the pipes.
It was here, in this subterranean world, that a mysterious figure emerged from the shadows, like a specter conjured from the very darkness itself.
At first, it was just a dark, formless mass on the ground, a shapeless, amorphous entity that seemed to blend seamlessly into the surrounding shadows.
Then, with an almost imperceptible movement, the shadow began to take shape, its edges slowly coalescing into a recognizable form. It rose, like a specter, from the cold, concrete floor, its darkness slowly receding, like the ebbing of a dark tide, revealing the features of a young boy.
His entire body had been a deep, inky black, as if he had been crafted from the very essence of shadow itself, his skin seeming to absorb the light around him, like a dark, velvet cloak.
But now, his true form was emerging, like a sculpture unveiled from its marble shroud, his features slowly resolving into a face, with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and piercing eyes that gleamed with a mischievous intensity, like two Red stars shining in a midnight sky.
This was Riyan, who had employed his remarkable affinity to temporarily transform himself into a living shadow, his body seeming to blend seamlessly into the surrounding darkness, like a chameleon adapting to its environment.
His eyes gleamed with a mischievous intensity, as he surveyed his surroundings with an air of quiet confidence, his gaze darting from one shadowy recess to another, as if searching for hidden secrets or unseen dangers.
His thoughts were a whirlwind of strategy and cunning, his mind racing with the possibilities, like a chess player contemplating his next move.
"Now, I'm in the Basement of Hotel BlackMoon," he mused, his mind racing with the implications, his thoughts tumbling over each other like a cascade of waterfalls. "I have to search every floor, and I know those 11 bastards are hiding somewhere in those 24 Floors. What a pain in the ass... But I'll start with the first floor, where at least 4 or 5 of them are likely to be lurking. The main door is always the most vulnerable point, after all."
His voice was a low, husky whisper, barely audible over the hum of the machinery, but it seemed to carry a weight of conviction, a sense of determination that brooked no opposition.
With a sly smile, Riyan set off into the unknown, his footsteps echoing through the deserted corridors of the Underground Basement, the sound of his shoes on the concrete floor seeming to reverberate through the empty spaces, like a solitary drumbeat in a deserted city.
The game was afoot, and only time would reveal the secrets he would uncover in the luxurious, yet treacherous, world of Hotel BlackMoon, a world of opulence and deceit, where the stakes were high, and the players were deadly.
##################################
Next Chapter "29. Hijack Of Hotel...[3]"
##################################
Try If You like My Other Novel
"Villain : The White Washer"
##################################
Join My Discord....
https://discord.com/invite/YfyEdbYF
##################################
Good Day....
Lone Raut
##################################