The [God-Slayer’s Edge] passive applied to his boot. The kick bypassed the armor entirely, shattering Kael’s sternum and driving the jagged bone fragments directly into his heart!

The General’s eyes rolled back, a silent gasp of agony escaping his lips as his health bar zeroed out.

Sebastian grabbed the dead General by the collar, dragging his heavy body over to a velvet couch. He propped Kael up, crossing the dead man’s legs and resting his chin on his fist to mimic a state of deep drunken contemplation. He dragged the two dead guards into the deep shadows behind the couch, entirely out of sight.

"Sleep tight, General," Sebastian muttered.

He moved on.

The third target was Commander Sterling.

The arrogant noble was standing alone near a private bar, admiring his own reflection in a crystal mirror.

Sebastian didn’t even bother dropping from the ceiling. He used his [Heavenly Steps] to fold space, instantly teleporting directly behind the Commander. He popped the [Spatial Distortion] hex over them.

Sterling didn’t even have time to turn around!

Sebastian wrapped his arm around Sterling’s neck, locked in a brutal sleeper hold, and simply flexed his Demigod-tier bicep.

SNAP.

The cervical spine severed instantly.

Sterling’s body went totally limp, his arrogant face frozen in a look of mild surprise.

Sebastian lowered the body to the floor, propping it up against the bar counter with a half-empty bottle of wine resting loosely in his hand.

It had taken him less than four minutes. The top military command of the Vanguard Syndicate had been systematically butchered, and the party below hadn’t missed a single beat of the waltz.

Sebastian stood in the shadows of the balcony, looking down at the massive ballroom floor.

His silver-tinged eyes locked onto the final target. Guild Master Regis.

The head of the Syndicate was standing near the center fountain, still wearing his ridiculous Diamond Golem mask. He was surrounded by dozens of guards, completely exposed and completely arrogant.

Sebastian cracked his knuckles, the sound finally returning to his ears as he dropped the silencing hex. The loud obnoxious orchestral music washed over him again.

"Alright, Regis," Sebastian whispered, his featureless black helmet reflecting the chaotic sparkling lights of the gala. "The VIP section is closed. Let’s finish the party."​

—-

The grand ballroom of the Inner Spire was a massive monument to corporate excess. It was a place designed specifically to mock the absolute misery of the lower sectors.

While the refugees in Sector 4 starved and died from mutated rat bites, the Vanguard Syndicate top executives danced under floating chandeliers. The floor was a flawless expanse of polished obsidian laced with glowing veins of gold that pulsed in time with the swelling orchestral music.

The room was filled with the savory scent of roasted digital beasts. Massive multi-tiered fountains were scattered across the edges of the room that pumped a shimmering pink wine that cascaded down into carved crystal basins.

Every single elite in the room wore a mask carved from pure crystallized mana.

They were shaped like elegant foxes, roaring lions, and weeping angels. The masks pulsed with a bright aura of magical energy.

A low-level NPC waiter dressed in a crisp spotless white tuxedo nervously navigated the edge of the dance floor. He was carrying a silver tray loaded with glowing mana-infused caviar.

His assigned route was to deliver the appetizers to the secluded VIP booths on the upper balconies.

He carefully walked up the plush velvet-lined spiral staircase, keeping his head down to avoid making eye contact with any of the terrifyingly powerful guests.

He reached the second-floor landing and turned the corner toward the private alcove reserved for Inquisitor Vance and General Kael.

The waiter stepped into the dim quiet alcove.

"Pardon the interruption, my lords," the waiter murmured politely, bowing his head as he raised the silver tray. "I have the..."

His foot slipped. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

SQUELCH.

The waiter looked down. He had not slipped on spilled wine. The thick plush velvet carpet was completely soaked in a massive expanding puddle of dark blood.

The waiter’s hands began to tremble. He slowly raised his head as his programmed AI routines struggled to process the visual data in front of him.

Sitting on the expensive velvet couch was General Kael. But the massive heavily armored man was not laughing. His head was tilted at a completely unnatural broken angle, and his chest plate was caved inward and completely shattered.

Sitting in the chair next to him was Inquisitor Vance. The psychic’s throat had been violently laid open, and a ceramic combat knife was buried hilt-deep directly into the center of his forehead.

And hovering three feet above the ruined mahogany coffee table was a perfectly smooth geometric cube of compressed meat, bone, and black fabric, slowly dripping blood onto the floor.

The waiter dropped the silver tray.

CRASH!

The heavy tray hit the marble floor, the crystal glasses and glowing caviar shattering into a million pieces. But the sound of the breaking glass was entirely drowned out by the sound that tore from the waiter’s throat.

"AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

It was a shrill scream of pure terror. It echoed down from the balcony, cutting through the ambient chatter and the orchestral music like a physical blade.

Down on the main floor, the music abruptly screeched to a halt. The cellists dropped their bows. The dancing couples froze in place, their glowing mana masks turning upward toward the source of the scream.

Standing near the central wine fountain, Guild Master Regis snapped his head up.

Regis was a Level 85 Technomancer. He was the absolute ruler of the Vanguard Syndicate, a man who had spent millions of real-world credits to secure his position. He wore a mask carved from a Level 70 Diamond Golem core, shaped like a snarling wolf.

"Who dares interrupt my gala?!" Regis’s voice boomed, magically amplified to shake the very walls of the ballroom.

The waiter stumbled out to the edge of the balcony railing, his pristine white tuxedo now stained with the dark blood of the Vanguard generals. He pointed a shaking terrified finger back into the dark alcove.

"Blood!" the waiter sobbed hysterically. "They are dead! They are all dead!"

Regis frowned beneath his diamond mask.

He quickly opened his guild management UI, checking the life signs of his top lieutenants.

Vance. Offline. Kael. Offline. Sterling. Offline.

The glowing green text of their status indicators had all turned a flat dead grey. They had not just logged out. Their digital signatures had been violently erased from the local server grid.

Regis’s eyes widened in absolute shock.

"Impossible," he whispered.

Then, the realization hit him. The panic spread through the room like wildfire.

The aristocratic elites and wealthy players suddenly realized that the most heavily guarded room in the entire sector had been breached.

"Assassin!" a noble screamed, pointing up at the balcony. "There is an assassin!"

Absolute chaos erupted. The polished sophisticated facade of the corporate elites shattered instantly. They shoved each other, trampled over trailing silk gowns, and sprinted toward the massive titanium double doors leading out of the ballroom.

"Silence!" Regis roared, his voice cracking like thunder. He slammed the butt of his heavy metallic staff against the obsidian floor.

A pulse of heavy purple Admin-code erupted from his staff.

"LOCKDOWN!" Regis commanded the server.

BZZZZT!

The system responded instantly to the Guild Master’s override. The heavy titanium doors violently slammed shut, crushing a decorative marble statue that happened to be in the way. Massive thick iron blast shields slammed down over the towering stained-glass windows, plunging the room into darkness.

A second later, the emergency lights flared to life. The entire ballroom was bathed in a harsh strobing blood-red glow.

The hundred or so guests were trapped. They huddled together in the center of the room, clutching their useless decorative staves and whimpering behind their glowing masks.

Regis stepped forward, his heavy mechanized boots clicking against the floor.

He looked up at the dark balcony, his hands balling into fists.

"Show yourself!" Regis yelled, the mechanical amplifiers in his throat making his voice vibrate the floorboards. "You are trapped in a room with the Vanguard Elite!

You have nowhere to run! Show yourself, you cowardly rat!"