Yvette casually picked up a baseball cap from the sofa and stood. She wore a black T-shirt, blue jeans, and familiar canvas shoes. The cap concealed most of her face, revealing only her sharp jawline. She glanced indifferently at the sniper rifles on the table, picked up the nearest one, and chambered a round in a fluid motion. Her movements were clean, precise, and exuded cool confidence.

Jeremiah also selected a rifle. Emmett, Charles, and Samantha, recognizing the urgency, each chose a suitable weapon. Eagle King had already made his selection. Samantha, experienced with handguns at the club, was practically buzzing with excitement at handling a sniper rifle for the first time.

Yvette glanced at Samantha's excited face. "The recoil on a sniper rifle is much stronger than a handgun," she said in a cool, clear voice. "Be careful."

Samantha nodded. "Don't worry, Yvette. I'll be careful." She knew she wasn't the main force; her goal was simply not to hinder the others.

Once everyone was ready, Emmett opened the door. Chaotic footsteps and cries erupted from the hallway. Yvette and Jeremiah led, with Emmett and Charles flanking them, and Eagle King close to Samantha. For Charles, a veteran of the underworld, Emmett, battle-hardened alongside Jeremiah, and Eagle King, accustomed to life on the edge, the scene was unremarkable.

In the fifth-floor corridor, people cowered, clutching their heads and trembling. Some pleaded for mercy, only to be shot dead by the black-clad men. The sight silenced the others.

The entire hotel had fallen. Each floor was littered with the bodies of those who resisted—men and women, old and young. A dozen black-clad men guarded each floor, searching rooms for valuables.

On the fifth floor, the black-clad men saw Yvette and the others emerge and approached menacingly. Yvette and Jeremiah exchanged a knowing smile. The black-clad men, sensing aggression, saw the sniper rifles and shouted a warning in their native tongue.

Before they could react, Yvette's bullet found its mark, felling one instantly. Samantha watched, admiration filling her eyes. This is ruthlessness and efficiency, she thought. One shot, one kill. So cool!

The remaining black-clad men opened fire. Yvette, stoic, fired back, each shot precise and deadly. Jeremiah, equally skilled, eliminated the attackers one by one. Soon, all twenty-odd men on the fifth floor lay dead.

Samantha was dumbfounded. What happened to fighting together? she thought. I’m just here, and we're winning. This feels more like a game for Yvette and Jeremiah.

Emmett and Charles shared her sentiment. They had managed only two kills each, while Yvette and Jeremiah had accounted for the rest. Only Eagle King remained unfazed; a few dozen people were nothing to him. To Yvette, even hundreds were mere practice. His role was simply to protect Samantha.

Suddenly, Yvette's eyes narrowed. Jeremiah reacted quickly, but Yvette was faster. She raised her rifle, aimed at a black-clad man appearing at the top of the stairs, and fired. A defiant, mischievous smile played on her lips.

The black-clad man was instantly killed. The sight shocked the civilians on the floor, eliciting shrill screams.

Yvette's brow furrowed. "Shut up," she said softly, her voice instantly silencing the crowd. They trembled, awestruck by her cold efficiency. She hadn't flinched, her eyes devoid of emotion. Yvette didn't realize her chilling demeanor was more terrifying than the black-clad men themselves.

The corridor reeked of blood. Jeremiah, his gaze intense, watched Yvette. He squeezed her hand, then barked at the terrified crowd, "Back to your rooms!"

They scrambled to obey. Yvette's voice was cold and indifferent. "Emmett, fourth floor. Eagle King, take Samantha to the third. Charles, second floor. Jeremiah and I will take the first."

The first floor was the most dangerous; the Crimson Blades leader and most of the black-clad men were there.

Emmett nodded. "Got it, Yvette. I'll join you on the first floor after clearing the fourth."

Charles echoed the agreement.

Eagle King, still in his loose shorts, tank top, and blue flip-flops, looked decidedly unconventional. Seeing Samantha's worry, Yvette said firmly, "Eagle King's skills are nothing to worry about, despite his attire."

Samantha's lips twitched. I want to believe him, but his outfit... she thought.

Eagle King felt wronged. This outfit is from fashion week! These flip-flops are one of a kind! he thought. He reassured Samantha, patting his chest. "Don't worry. These punks won't stand a chance. Follow me, and you'll be safe." He then recited a quick rhyme: "Samantha fly high, Eagle King will be right by your side."

Emmett thought, Eagle King's a walking comedian. Where does Yvette find these friends?

Emmett and Charles then departed to begin their respective tasks. Charles wished the second-ranked assassin had a different name. If he was like Eagle King, he'd need a life reevaluation.

Eagle King scoffed at their seriousness. No girlfriends, he thought. No sense of humor. Before he could speak to Yvette, Jeremiah interrupted. "Let's go."

Yvette nodded, her expression cold, not even glancing at Eagle King. They left, leaving Samantha with Eagle King. Oh God, she thought. I want to leave too.