The Deathstalker [6]

"Aaaaa…"

A short moan escaped from Viper's lips, followed by a brief male groan. As soon as he finished, releasing into the condom, Deathstalker rolled away from the woman beneath him.

"Good night," he whispered, kissing Viper's forehead before turning his back to her.

"Good night," Viper replied softly, still catching her breath.

She stared at the ceiling, sighing inwardly. They had been together for five years now, and he had kept his promise.

Deathstalker was always kind and gentle to her. Maybe… too gentle. Even though he treated her well, she could feel it—his lack of desire. The sex they had once a month felt more like an obligation to him, as if they were a couple who had been married for twenty years.

But who was to blame?

She was the one who had made him take responsibility. She had always known—he had never truly loved her.

Turning her head, she watched his back rise and fall with even breaths. He was already asleep. Slowly, she reached out, tracing a finger down his spine, following the thin sheen of sweat still lingering on his skin.

Thanks to that night, she finally knew who he loved.

A part of her was relieved. He loved that woman. But it was a love doomed from the start. First, their families would never allow it. Second, that woman had vanished from their lives. So, no matter how much he loved her, she was no longer a threat to Viper.

Viper closed her eyes, deciding to rest her mind. But just as she began to drift off, her phone vibrated once on the nightstand.

She reached for it and read the message:

"Urgent meeting. Main. Tom. 8 AM."

-

All the Royal Knights gathered around the oval table in the main meeting room of their headquarters. They had been part of the organization for six years, and while they had met with Madam—the High Seater of their country—many times before, today was different. Today, they had been summoned to meet with all the High Seaters from around the world.

There could only be one reason for such a gathering. Something big had happened.

The grand French doors swung open. At once, the Royal Knights rose from their seats as seven figures, each wearing a golden mask, entered the room. They remained standing until all the High Seaters had taken their places.

"Royal Knights… it is a pleasure to finally meet you all," spoke a man seated at the end of the table. His voice was soft, yet carried a thick Eastern accent. "We have heard of your accomplishments, and I, personally, admire you a great deal."

"It is our honor, Lord," King replied on behalf of her team.

"Apologies for being impolite, but I suggest we get to the point immediately," another voice cut in. A woman—another High Seater.

"Yes… you are being impolite, Lady Augustine," the man at the head of the table rebuked, his tone calm but firm. The woman, who appeared to be half his age, said nothing. "But you are also correct," he continued, turning his attention back to the Royal Knights.

"If you haven't heard, our organization has been facing… disruptions, if I may call them that, over the past few months."

"They haven't heard," Madam interjected, her voice cool yet laced with pride. "Because they haven't faced any of them."

Her words carried weight. The subtle smile she wore only emphasized her confidence in her subordinates.

"Yes… of course, Madam," Lord Wang acknowledged with a small nod. Deathstalker's sharp eyes caught a fleeting smirk from Lady Augustine—mocking, though unclear whether it was aimed at Madam or someone else.

"There have been several attacks against our missions," Lord Wang continued, now addressing the Royal Knights. "Our bombs have been defused, our poisons countered with antidotes, our hacks exposed, our melee operations and sniper shots prevented… even a few of our plans have been completely compromised."

"That's bad," Bruno murmured under his breath.

"It is," Lord Wang confirmed.

"What's strange is… this has been happening all over the world. Except here," Lady Augustine added, her sharp gaze flicking toward Madam.

"You have something to say, Lady Augustine?" Madam challenged, her voice cool and unwavering. "I dare you to clarify your words."

"Oh, come on… it's obvious," Lady Augustine started, but before she could finish, another voice cut through the tension.

"Enough."

The commanding tone belonged to a man who had remained silent until now. "If Madam Joana had anything to do with this, she wouldn't be kind enough to let her precious knights clean up this mess for us. Isn't that right, Madam Joana?"

"Yes, Lord Neckloghn," Madam replied evenly. "Though the attacks haven't reached us yet, I take this matter very seriously."

"Please, Ladies and Gentlemen," Lord Wang interjected, cutting off any further arguments. "Let's not confuse these young people with our insignificant disputes." His attention returned to the Royal Knights.

"Despite the fact that your missions haven't been targeted—or perhaps, haven't been yet—our investigations have revealed that the enemy's base is actually located in this country."

Murmurs rippled through the room.

"Their leader is undoubtedly remarkable. Talented. Intelligent. Perhaps even a genius."

Lady Augustine scoffed in disagreement, but Lord Wang ignored her. Instead, he turned to Madam. "Please, Madam."

Madam reached for a remote beside her and turned on the large screen at the front of the room. The display flickered to life, revealing an image of a beautiful young woman.

Deathstalker's eyes widened.

-

"I request not to be involved in this mission," Deathstalker stated firmly as he addressed his team. They were back in their living room in the East Wing of the castle.

"You can't do that, man. This is a direct order," Gila argued, but Deathstalker cut him off.

"Why not? You refused a mission once yourself."

"That was because of his beliefs, Death. That's different," Black defended Gila.

"It's also my belief," Deathstalker countered.

"What belief?" Gila demanded, his voice edged with frustration.

Deathstalker clenched his fists tightly, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He felt Viper reaching out to touch his hand—probably to calm him—but he deliberately moved away, avoiding her touch.

"Look, it's complicated, okay?" Viper said, her voice hesitant.

"What's complicated?" Black pressed, confused by the tension in the room.

"The woman… the leader… she… she…"

"She's my sister," Deathstalker finished for Viper, his voice steady, his expression unreadable.

"Your sister?" Bruno asked in disbelief.

"Foster sister, not by blood," Viper corrected quickly.

Deathstalker didn't know why, but something about the way she said it unsettled him.

"Blood or not, she is my sister," he stated firmly. "I've known her since I was a kid. We grew up together."

"That makes it even more important for you to be in this mission, man," Bruno argued. "You know her. You know her weaknesses—"

"I won't harm her."

Deathstalker's voice was final, cutting through Bruno's words like a blade. He closed his eyes again, memories surfacing—his promise to protect his sister. He had failed to protect her once. The realization burned a hollow ache in his chest.

"I won't," he repeated, his voice unwavering.

"That's okay, then," King suddenly spoke, breaking the heavy atmosphere before it could sink further. "You don't mind handling another mission, right?"

Deathstalker turned his gaze toward the curly-haired young woman.

"Of course," he said, gratitude clear in his voice.

-

"Damn, that woman!!" Fire cursed, slamming his desk in frustration.

King turned her head toward him, her brows furrowed. "What's wrong?"

"I tried hacking what I was certain was their main server…" Fire exhaled sharply, clenching his fists.

"And then?" King prompted.

"It was fake information!" Fire slammed his desk again. "She played me like an idiot for days!"

Across the room, Deathstalker, seated at the dining table, curled his lips slightly—an unconscious smirk at his teammate's frustration.

Fire caught it. "What the hell are you smirking about?!" he snapped.

Deathstalker met his gaze, then shrugged. "Nothing," he said calmly before returning to his study of another mission.

Just then, the front door swung open, revealing a dazed Gila, barely able to stand, supported by Black Widow, whose face was twisted with resentment.

"What happened to him?" King rushed toward them, alarmed. Fire quickly moved to help Black Widow ease Gila onto the couch.

"That bitch!" Black spat, her anger barely contained. "We were about to attack her last night, when she was at her house. While I was bending her guards' minds, Gila went in. But… but instead of attacking her…" Black's fists trembled at her sides. "He—he attacked me!"

King's eyes widened. "What did she do to him?"

"She made him turn on me!!" Black exploded. "If I hadn't put him in this dazed state, he would've snapped my neck!"

Deathstalker exhaled heavily. "I heard my mother say once… she's the best mind-bender she's ever met," he muttered.

"How good is she?" King asked, her tone cautious.

Deathstalker shrugged. "Honestly? I never saw her in action. Or at least… I never realized if I did. Who knows if she's ever bent my mind?"

Black's gaze snapped to Deathstalker, her expression hovering between shock and panic. "She—she could bend you?"

Deathstalker shrugged again. "I don't know. As far as I remember, I've never done anything outside of my own consciousness. But I don't know exactly how mind-bending works. Can someone be manipulated without realizing it? Like… thinking something was their own will, when in reality, they were bent?"

"I… I can't do that," Black admitted, her voice unsteady. "But… it's not impossible to do." Her hands tightened into fists as she whispered, "Can she really do that?"

Deathstalker shrugged for the third time. "Like I said—I don't know. But I do remember my mother saying Mila was the best mind-bender she had ever met. She actually wanted Mila to join us," he added, before glancing at Black. "That was before she recruited you."

"You have to help us, Death," King said firmly.

"No."

His answer was immediate.

"I want no part in your attempts to destroy her."

With that, he turned on his heels and walked to his bedroom, leaving his teammates behind.

-

Deathstalker was jolted awake by the persistent ringing of his phone.

His vision was still heavy with sleep as he pried himself free from Viper's arms, which were wrapped snugly around his waist. He pushed off the blanket and swung his legs off the bed, reaching for his phone in his jeans pocket.

With a deep frown, he answered.

"Morning, Mom… Madam?"

But the voice on the other end wasn't hers.

"Quint…" It was his master. His voice was trembling.

"Your mother… she—she had a terrible accident!"