Next mission briefing

Surya unlocked the door to his small apartment, stepping inside cautiously. His training never allowed him to enter a room without assessing the surroundings. Even though he knew no one would be waiting for him, the instincts ingrained through years of espionage refused to fade.

The dim glow of the streetlights filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. He shut the door behind him and exhaled, a deep, steady breath. It felt surreal—being back, reliving his past, yet with the knowledge of everything that had happened. Five years ago, he had been betrayed and killed in Pakistan. Now, he had been given another chance.

He clenched his fists. He was grateful for this second life, but more than that, he was determined. He had trusted his comrades before, only to meet his demise at the hands of an unknown traitor. Never again.

Yet, as much as he wanted to embrace this new beginning, he couldn't ignore the subtle differences. His memories were intact, his skills sharper than ever, but something felt… off. Small changes in this timeline unsettled him. He hadn't received the same handlers, the training schedule was slightly altered, and even the mission briefing had minor discrepancies. It was as if history had shifted just enough to raise his suspicion.

Walking to the sink, he splashed cold water on his face and stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror. His eyes, once filled with unwavering loyalty, now carried the weight of caution. Trust was a luxury he could no longer afford.

[System Notification: Host's Mental Resilience Strengthened]

A small smirk formed on his lips. Even the system acknowledged his resolve. That was fine—he would use every advantage at his disposal to ensure his survival this time.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, his mind racing with thoughts of his upcoming mission. The name Raza Khan burned in his memory. This wasn't just a test. It was a statement—RAW wanted to see if he had what it took to be a real asset. And Surya was determined to prove that he wasn't just any spy. He was Devil.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, he lay back, staring at the ceiling. Sleep wouldn't come easy. His enemies wouldn't rest, and neither would he. This time, he would outthink, outfight, and outlast them all.

Because in this second life, he trusted no one but himself.

At 0200 hours, October 6, 2014, Surya arrived at the designated meeting point—an abandoned building behind Gandhi Garden. The streets were eerily silent, the moon casting long, ominous shadows over the crumbling structure. He moved carefully, every step calculated, his senses heightened by years of instinct.

He checked his surroundings before stepping inside. The air was thick with the scent of damp concrete and rusted metal. His fingers twitched, ready to draw a weapon at a moment's notice.

A faint shuffle echoed in the distance. Someone was here.

"You're on time," a voice murmured from the darkness.

Surya turned, eyes locking onto a shadowy figure leaning against a broken pillar. The faint glow of a cigarette illuminated a sharp face, unreadable yet calculating.

"Let's see if you're worth keeping alive," the man continued. "Welcome to the real test."

Surya's muscles tensed. He had a feeling this was going to be much more than just a mission briefing.

The man tossed a sealed dossier onto the floor. Surya picked it up and flipped it open. Inside was a grainy photograph of a stern-looking man with cold, calculating eyes—Raza Khan, an ISI operative responsible for training members of the Lashkar-e-Taiba. A dangerous and highly skilled target.

"Your mission is simple," the man said. "Eliminate him. The catch? You'll be doing it in Pakistan."

Surya's jaw tightened, but he remained composed. His past self had infiltrated enemy territory before, but this time, things were different. He had the Strongest Assassin System on his side.

"You'll rendezvous with our assets in Karachi. They'll brief you on the target's movements," the man continued. "This isn't just a test anymore, recruit. Succeed, and you'll officially become a ghost in the world of shadows. Fail… and you won't be coming back."

Surya closed the dossier and met the man's gaze.

"One more thing," the man added. "Your handler for this mission is Shadow. He will be your only point of contact once you're in Pakistan. Do not attempt to communicate with anyone else. Your codename for this operation is Phantom. You move like a ghost, and you leave no trace."

Surya processed the information quickly. A new handler, a new identity—this timeline was shaping up to be more unpredictable than he expected.

"Here's your brief on the entry and exit points for this operation," the senior agent continued, handing him a map. "You'll enter through Karachi Port, using a forged identity as an arms dealer's courier. Our contact will provide you with further resources upon arrival. After the assassination, you'll extract through Balochistan's rugged terrain, where our teams will set up a temporary safehouse before exfiltration. The location of Raza Khan has been marked in red, with his daily routine noted on the back."

Surya studied the map. Every detail, every route, every contingency. He knew one thing for sure—this was not an undercover job. This was an assassination.

In his past life, he had joined Mission Sicario, also known as the Unknown Gunman, around 2019. But this time, he was ahead of schedule.

He took a deep breath, folding the map and securing it inside his jacket. Without hesitation, he turned and walked away from the meeting point, his mind already focused on the mission ahead.

By dawn, Surya had made his way to Varanasi, blending seamlessly into the bustling streets. He passed by the familiar food stalls of Varanasi chaat but ignored them. There was no time for indulgence.

By midnight, he boarded a flight from Varanasi Airport, bound for Gujarat. From there, his journey to Pakistan would begin.

Here, the tale of the famous Unknown Gunman truly began.