Han Xin slipped into the room with the stealth of a shadow. The darkness was no obstacle; he knew every inch of this space by heart. His movements were fluid, instinct guiding him past obstacles. He soon stood over Xiang Yu, whose face, even in sleep, was marked by unease.
Han Xin's hand moved to his sleeve, pressing a hidden mechanism that released a thin, deadly blade. The cold, heartless determination in his eyes was unmistakable. One swift cut, and his enemy would be no more.
He stepped forward, but the faintest sound outside the door made him freeze. His eyes narrowed, and in an instant, he activated his suit's invisibility function, blending seamlessly into the shadows. He watched as the door creaked open and a figure entered. The lights flickered on, and Xiang Yu, now fully alert, sat up, plasma gun in hand, drawn from beneath his pillow.
