The gunfight was finally over, and an eerie calm settled around us. I leaned back behind the cover, breathing heavily, feeling like my heart was about to burst from my chest. This was my first real brush with life and death. Saying I wasn't scared would be a lie, but after surviving, I couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride: "Hey, at least I made it out alive."
Léon holstered his gun and shot me a cold glance, a hint of unhidden exasperation in his eyes. Apparently, my "assistance" had failed to impress him, if not adding more than a little awkwardness.
"If it weren't for you slowing us down, this fight would have ended much sooner," he said, his tone laced with icy sarcasm.
His words stung, and I rubbed my nose awkwardly, wanting to defend myself but finding nothing compelling to say. Instead, I chuckled weakly. "Hey, I helped distract them, didn't I? Without me, do you think those guys would've shown any openings?"
Léon cast me a sidelong glance, his eyes skeptical and cold. "If you want to stay alive next time, don't be a burden." His gaze was steely, as if I was just another "temp worker" he was ready to dismiss at any moment.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes and mutter under my breath, "Hey, you can't expect a doorman to become a war hero overnight, right?"
At that moment, Mathilda stifled a laugh, crossing her arms and looking me up and down with a teasing glint in her eyes. "You sure know how to comfort yourself. Relax, no one's expecting you to become a hero overnight, Brick Master."
"Ding! Congratulations, host! You've completed the mission and earned a reward: one chance to spin the wheel. Would you like to spin now?" The system's mechanical voice suddenly echoed in my mind, almost causing me to say something out loud.
Mathilda noticed my dazed expression and raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "What's wrong, Brick Master? Still basking in the glory of your 'heroic moment'?"
I quickly snapped back to reality, forcing myself to stay calm. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about how to improve my brick-throwing technique for next time."
As I pretended to be unfazed, the system's voice persistently rang in my mind again: Would you like to spin the wheel now? as if urging me to hurry up. A lottery chance! My heart raced. Maybe I could get something game-changing and finally make an impression on these people!
"Yes, spin now!" I responded mentally, keeping my face as neutral as possible. Instantly, a virtual wheel appeared in my mind, spinning with a rainbow of options like Ultimate Combat Skills Lv10, Invisibility Cloak, Advanced Medical Kit, and… Ten Tons of Brick Storage.
I stared blankly at the "Ten Tons of Brick Storage" option, suppressing an inner sigh. Are you trying to make me the founder of the Brick Technique? As I internally complained, the wheel slowed to a stop, and the pointer landed on an item:
Reward: One-Time Mini Bulletproof Shield
Reading the item name, I couldn't help feeling a little disappointed. "One-time use? And mini… Am I supposed to use it just to block one bullet?" But even with my letdown, a bulletproof shield was better than nothing; at least it might save my life in a pinch.
"What are you zoning out about?" Mathilda nudged me, her expression curious, as if she was trying to guess if I was still "developing my brick skills."
I quickly covered my excitement, forcing a calm smile. "Nothing. Just thinking, you know, maybe I could find a way to make bricks bulletproof."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Bulletproof bricks? Now that would make you a true Brick Master."
At that moment, Léon, already a few steps ahead, turned back to give us an icy stare. "If you two waste any more time, we're sitting ducks when they catch up."
Hiding my inner thrill, I quickly followed him, mentally planning how to use this "mini bulletproof shield." After all, sometimes a one-time chance to cheat death was better than any amount of brick-throwing prowess!
As I happily imagined how useful the shield could be, Léon suddenly stopped, casting me a cold glance. "Stay focused. This isn't the place to daydream."
I wiped the grin off my face, nodding. "Right, focus. No problem."
He ignored me, resuming his pace. I couldn't help but silently mutter, Is there anything in this world that could make this guy crack a smile?
Mathilda, as if reading my mind, leaned in close and whispered, "Don't worry. Léon's not as scary as he looks. He just doesn't show his emotions, especially with 'rookies.'"
Elsewhere, Stanfield picked up a photo on the desk, smirking coldly at the young girl's face—Mathilda. He muttered to himself, "So, that little brat actually managed to escape me once."
The smirk faded as he recalled the raid, replaced by a mix of hatred and anger. That operation was supposed to be quick and clean; he had led the charge himself, ruthlessly storming into Mathilda's home. He hadn't expected the girl to escape, let alone fall under Léon's protection.
"Léon," he sneered with disdain, "a filthy cleaner who actually dares interfere in my affairs. Does he really think he can take my target away?"
Lost in thought, he was interrupted as one of his men reported, "Sir, we've sealed off all exits around the abandoned factory. Léon and the girl have nowhere to go. We await your orders."
Stanfield nodded, a cruel smile crossing his lips. "Good. Let them feel the noose tightening. Especially that girl. She'll pay for what she did." His voice was low, dripping with vicious satisfaction.
He gazed out the window, envisioning Léon and Mathilda cornered with no escape. Picking up the phone, he commanded, "Close in slowly, no mercy. Bring them to me alive. I want to show Léon that what I want, no one gets in my way."
He ended the call, sitting back in his chair, eyes alight with a crazed intensity. For him, this hunt was more than just a mission—it was a game of control.
Léon, Mathilda, and I crept through the corridors of the abandoned factory, surrounded by scattered machinery and crumbling brick walls. Léon moved with silent efficiency, clearly familiar with the area, while Mathilda clung to his side, her small face weary but determined not to show any fear.
"Where are we headed?" I whispered, lowering my voice to avoid alerting any lurking men in black.
Without looking back, Léon replied coldly, "We find cover, then search for an exit."
"Cover? In this dump?" I muttered, glancing at the decaying walls and piles of debris around us, feeling like the place could collapse at any moment.
Léon stopped and turned, fixing me with an icy stare. "Your voice is as loud as a doorbell. If you're that dissatisfied, go find a safe spot yourself."
His gaze made me shrink back, and I quickly shut my mouth.
Just then, Mathilda tugged on Léon's sleeve and whispered, "Léon, there's an office on the second floor. It might be more hidden than here." Her voice was quiet and hopeful, with a hint of hesitation.
Léon nodded, motioning toward the stairs. "Then let's go, quickly."
Silently, we climbed to the second floor, sticking close to the wall to avoid making any noise. Soon, we slipped into a dilapidated office. Dust-covered desks and broken windows filled the space, letting in faint moonlight. Léon pulled the curtains shut, Mathilda closed the door, and I pressed my ear to it, listening for movement in the hallway.
"This should hold them off for a while," Léon murmured, checking every corner for hidden threats.
Leaning against the door, I chuckled, "Looks like this office is my five-star suite for the night."
Mathilda laughed softly, but Léon ignored my joke, focused on watching the activity outside.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath. "They've sealed off the area."
I moved to the window to peek out, spotting several black cars parked at the street corner and men in black combing every inch of the factory grounds.
"With so many of them, can we really slip past?" I muttered nervously.
Léon's gaze was unwavering. "Panicking won't help. We need a route that stays out of their sight."
Mathilda joined us, whispering, "Léon, there's an old air duct in the back. Maybe we can escape through it."
Léon considered it, then nodded. "Worth a try." He gestured to Mathilda and me. "Stay close. Make no sound."
We quickly moved to the wall in the back of the office and found the rusted air duct cover. Léon tried to pry it open, but upon closer inspection, he muttered, "Damn it. This duct is too narrow. We can't fit."
I stared at the cramped opening, feeling defeated. If this route was blocked, we'd have to find another way out.
"What now?" I asked, keeping my voice low, heart pounding as the men outside grew closer.
Léon glanced at the duct, then back at Mathilda. "We can't fit, but you can, Mathilda."
Mathilda's eyes widened, filling with tears as she realized his meaning. She opened her mouth to speak, but words failed her. Léon's expression remained stern, yet a flicker of sadness and helplessness crossed his face.
"Mathilda," he said softly, suppressing his emotions, "this is the only way. I'll hold them off here. You go through the duct and… escape."
"No, I won't!" Mathilda shook her head, tears streaming down her face as she clung tightly to his sleeve. "I don't want to go alone! I don't want to leave you! I want to stay with you!"
Léon looked at her tear-filled eyes, his heart clearly torn, but he shook his head resolutely. Placing his hand gently on her shoulder, he spoke in a voice that was both firm and tender. "Mathilda, listen to me," he said, his voice soft yet unwavering, showing a rare glimpse of warmth and sorrow. "If we stay together, neither of us will escape. This is the only way."
"Ahem!" I coughed to remind them there was still someone else here.
Léon shot me an annoyed look, then turned back to Mathilda with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. I've saved up money with Tony. Once this is over, we'll take that money and start a new life. Just the two of us. Alright? Now, go."
Mathilda bit her lip, her tears flowing uncontrollably. She didn't want to let go of his sleeve but knew he was right. She choked back a sob and asked softly, "Will you really come find me? Will you really be okay?"
Léon managed a small smile, his eyes filled with warmth and determination. He gently wiped away her tears, murmuring, "I will. Once I finish all this, we'll leave together and start fresh. Tony has money. We'll live a good life."
Watching their heartfelt farewell, I cleared my throat, trying to remind them they had an audience. "Ahem! Hey, I'm still here, you know. It's life and death right now—could you not treat me like the background?"
Léon shot me a sharp, irritated glare as if to say, "You better shut up," before turning back to Mathilda, his expression softening. "Go, Mathilda. Remember, I'll come for you."
Mathilda took a deep breath, finally releasing her grip and nodding, her face full of sorrow and reluctance. She gave him one last glance at the entrance to the air duct, eyes brimming with hope and sadness. Léon waved her forward, urging her to crawl inside.
Once Mathilda's silhouette vanished into the darkness, Léon turned to me, his tone sharp. "I hope you can buy me a bit more time."
Fighting back my nerves, I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Buying time? Sure, I've got a few tricks up my sleeve." Though inside, I was torn between feeling touched and, well, anxious about my own safety.
Léon took one last look at the air duct entrance, his face set with grim determination. Then, he turned toward the danger, striding forward with unwavering resolve. Knowing there was no turning back, I followed him, bracing myself for the battle to come.