After making all his preparations, Xiang Nan checked into a room at the hotel.

He didn't bring his firearms in; instead, he'd hidden them nearby. During this time, he rode the elevator multiple times, quietly observing how the elevator attendant operated.

He noticed that nobody pressed the button for the top floor—the hotel's premium suites—on any trip. He guessed that the entire floor had been temporarily locked down for some special reason, not that there were no guests there at all.

He also found the building's main circuit breaker in the underground parking garage. After that, he spent several hours sitting on a sofa in the hotel lobby, newspaper in hand, pretending to read but actually watching the flow of people. To avoid attracting attention, he spaced out his elevator rides by long intervals, sometimes taking the stairs.

Considering it was a spur-of-the-moment mission, with no time for thorough planning, Xiang Nan had done about as much as he could. Wesera might be prosperous, but ultimately, it was just a small port city in the grand scheme of the Republic of Padokea—relatively calm, without any truly influential figures. People here lived easy, laid-back lives. That atmosphere worked in Xiang Nan's favor.

By 5 p.m., Xiang Nan—dressed in a suit, looking like a government office worker—sat with his legs crossed, occasionally glancing up from the newspaper to scan his surroundings.

Just then, his fingers tensed slightly on one corner of the paper.

He spotted a familiar face—none other than the man who'd beaten him at the fighting gym last night.

"He's here?" Xiang Nan thought, startled.

He got the same "kindred spirit" vibe from the guy as before—likely some sort of military background. But Xiang Nan didn't linger his gaze; he didn't want to be noticed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the man receive an elegant meal box from a subordinate at the main entrance, check it briefly, and then they both got on the elevator.

Xiang Nan immediately got up and casually strolled past the elevator. Sure enough, the indicator showed it rising to the top floor.

"Time's getting close," he thought. It was nearly dinner time, and people were pouring in. Another hour passed, and the sky outside grew dark. The hotel's lights all came on well ahead of schedule.

Suddenly, from top to bottom, the entire luxury building went pitch-black—no power in the lobby, no lights in the rooms. People immediately grew uneasy.

…

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the building:

Having disguised himself, Xiang Nan was climbing the stairwell from the second-top floor to the top-floor entry. He'd rigged a small device on the main breaker in the underground garage that would trip the power on a delay.

The echo of his footsteps made two guards at the entry jump. They raised their guns at once.

In the darkness, they couldn't see well. Xiang Nan tossed something up from the stairwell. As soon as they reflexively glanced at the object, a shadow darted toward them like a panther.

One guard didn't even have time to pull the trigger before a not-very-sharp kitchen knife was thrust into his throat, causing blood to gush from his mouth as he collapsed, limbs going limp.

The other guard's gun-hand was seized in a vise grip, and fingers dug into his cheeks with brutal force, preventing him from making a sound.

…

Inside a lavish suite:

A portly man with a cigar in his mouth grumbled, "What the hell is going on?"

"Could be a power outage," answered the figure opposite him: the same Republic of Padokea military instructor who'd beaten Xiang Nan yesterday, posing then as a martial artist.

As for the pantless, obese man with a big belly, he was a high-ranking official from the Republic of Padokea. On the bed to the side were two women with not a stitch of clothing on, giggling and whining, "Stay and play with us a bit longer…"

An air of debauchery filled the room.

"Don't worry, babies," the fat man said, his face twisting into a sleazy grin. He glanced sourly at the instructor, clearly annoyed at this interruption.

After clearing his throat and trying to look more serious, he commanded, "Go figure out what happened—now!"

"Understood." The instructor showed no emotion.

His job was to protect this slob of a superior, whether the guy liked it or not. So the moment the lights went out, he'd rushed inside. Evidently, his boss wasn't thrilled by the intrusion.

The instructor took out his phone to contact those outside. Wesera City usually had some of the best public safety in the Republic of Padokea. Though it had its mafia families, at least on the surface order was maintained. He couldn't imagine anyone else lurking around causing trouble. Likely it was just a technical fault. They had been living it up here in the hotel for three days already, no issues.

Bang!

Before the call could connect, gunfire erupted in the hallway. The instructor's pupils shrank, and he turned to the official.

"Hide!"

But the sudden turn of events made the women on the bed shriek in terror.

"Damn!" the instructor cursed. "Shut up!"

When they wouldn't quiet down—and actually got louder—he fired his gun with no hesitation. Bullets ripped through the women's foreheads, painting the sheets red with blood. They died on the spot, eyes wide in shock.

Making a gesture for silence at the terrified fat man who was now cowering under the bed, the instructor aimed his gun at the door, listening carefully.

For a moment, there was utter silence, inside and out.

"They're all dead," he realized grimly. "In just two minutes from the blackout… the 10 or so disguised soldiers we stationed along the corridor have all been taken out?!"

This guy was definitely a pro.

A professional assassin?

That phrase flashed in his mind.

Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't come to this. The entire top floor of the hotel was empty. Even if someone made it up here, they wouldn't know which suite the official was in. But the bedmates' screaming had given them away, allowing the intruder to pinpoint their location.

Cold sweat dripped down the instructor's forehead.

Suddenly, there came a faint sound at the door—almost imperceptible. The instructor didn't hesitate, squeezing off several rounds through the wooden surface, shredding it. Then he shifted position. Whoever was behind the door didn't fire back. It seemed they might've been shot.

That was when the lock beeped, and someone used a keycard to open the door. Only three people had keycards for this suite: the instructor, the fat man, and the second instructor guarding the door outside. If an enemy had entered, it meant he hadn't actually been hit.

Bang, bang, bang!

The moment the door opened, two identical pistols spat fire into the darkness. The figure at the door slipped inside, dodging and using a corpse as cover—a human shield.

After the sharp gunshots, all went quiet again.

Only the fat man under the bed could be heard panting and sobbing, reeking of urine.

Clack! Someone discarded a gun. Or, more likely, it was out of bullets.

Xiang Nan stood up, walked to the center of the suite's living area, and rolled his shoulders and wrists. He looked toward a corner of the room.

"Your gun's empty now, too. Come on out—we can play," he said.

The instructor emerged from the shadows with a cold laugh. He felt sure there was only one assassin. Given the hotel's security, nobody could bring firearms in easily—especially not many of them. They themselves had only carried two guns in total, for two instructors. The idea was that a lone intruder would have limited options, thus reducing risks to the VIP.

"Who hired you?" the instructor demanded, leveling a glare at Xiang Nan.

"No one," Xiang Nan replied curtly.

The instructor scoffed. "You're skilled, but this is the Republic of Padokea. It doesn't matter which country hired you—you won't leave here alive."

He was certain the other man wasn't with the local mafia. With his knowledge of Wesera's situation, that didn't make sense. The only possibility was a foreign power opposed to the Republic of Padokea. If it came down to close combat, the instructor had faith in his skills.

This entire arrangement—hotel choice, the limited number of weapons, etc.—was designed as a deliberate trap to funnel an attacker into a predictable scenario. That maximized protection for the official—at least up to a point. If they couldn't handle a particular enemy or power, none of it mattered.

Still, he took pride in how his plan had played out.

Whoosh!

The instructor lunged forward, face twisted with resolve. Their fists collided in midair as they came to close quarters. He finally saw the assassin's face.

"It's YOU?!"

Even though Xiang Nan had done a careful disguise of his features and clothes, the instructor recognized him in an instant. After all, last night had left quite an impression.

"I never expected we'd meet again under these circumstances…" Xiang Nan said lightly as the instructor staggered back. "Guess we're just meant to run into each other. No need to be shy. I'm actually looking forward to a real fight to the death with you—unlike yesterday."

"But today's different. Better watch your back," Xiang Nan added with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"Crap!"

The instructor felt Xiang Nan's killing intent swell, and his scalp prickled with fear.