Chapter 557

Chapter 557:

He slammed into the wall with a force that echoed through the hall, coughing up blood.

Despite the punishing blow, Red Jack acted as though he were numb to pain. He staggered back to his feet, blood trickling from his lips, which he then licked with grotesque satisfaction. “Finally!” Red Jack growled, his eyes blazing with exhilaration. “A challenge! A kill worth savoring. Ending someone like you is the only thing that gives me a real thrill!”

Ashton looked at him, puzzled and a little incredulous. Were all members of the Dark Night Organization as unhinged as this? It didn’t matter. Fear of pain was irrelevant; Red Jack could bleed, and injuries had consequences, even for a madman.

Judging by his stance, Ashton guessed he had fractured at least three of Red Jack’s ribs. No amount of bravado could make up for a body broken in battle.

Still, Red Jack, undeterred, wiped the blood from his mouth, unsheathed a gleaming combat knife, and readied himself to charge.

His wounds might have been severe, but his combat skills remained sharp. While Red Jack preferred to eliminate his targets from a distance with his cards, he clearly wasn’t averse to close combat when the moment called for it.

Just as Red Jack prepared to lunge at Ashton, the synchronized sound of boots echoed through the hallway.

The special forces, having completed the evacuation, were returning, drawn by the noise from the banquet hall.

Red Jack’s face darkened with frustration. Pausing his assault, he muttered under his breath, “If I kill you now, I’ll be cornered by those soldiers. No… not worth it. You intrigue me, Ashton, but not enough to risk my neck.”

He quickly sheathed his knife and pivoted to flee.

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣? 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙖𝙩 𝖌ⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀．𝖼𝗈𝗺

But Ashton wasn’t one to let his prey slip away so easily. With a cold smile, he sprinted after him. “You’re not going anywhere,” he hissed. “Not today.”

Red Jack shot him a sly grin over his shoulder. “We’ll see about that,” he taunted.

In a swift, acrobatic move, he evaded Ashton’s grasp, rolling across the debris-laden floor. As he tumbled, Red Jack snatched something—or rather, someone—from the wreckage caused by the explosion.

When he stood, the smirk on his face had widened. “Who’s in control now?” he asked mockingly, holding his hostage tight. In his hand, a blade gleamed, pressed dangerously close to the hostage’s throat.

As the dust settled and Ashton’s eyes locked onto the figure Red Jack had seized, his heart skipped a beat.

The hostage in Red Jack’s iron grip was none other than Alisha.

At that moment, Alisha was unconscious, held captive by Red Jack. Fresh blood stained her forehead, and her body was marked with multiple wounds. The once-elegant evening gown she wore hung in tatters, torn and ragged.

Just moments earlier, she had been helping guests evacuate the banquet hall when Red Jack detonated the bomb. The sudden explosion caused part of the building to collapse; Alisha was struck by falling debris and knocked out.

Amid the thick smoke from the explosion and the immediate danger of the assassin before him, Ashton had failed to notice Alisha trapped beneath the rubble. This gave Red Jack the perfect opportunity to use her as leverage.

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