Felicia glanced at the rocky path she had just traversed. It was a treacherous route, strewn with obstacles, including numerous thorn bushes bearing small fruits. Despite her swift, zigzagging progress, she hadn't anticipated being overtaken and blocked. How had he gotten around her? Was he so familiar with the terrain? He was simply too skilled.
Felicia's alertness heightened. Considering her predicament, she wondered about the other three mercenaries. Had they also been ambushed? She suspected she was the weakest target, deliberately singled out. She had been underestimated.
Felicia activated the small flashlight in her hand. As the beam illuminated the area, she attempted to speak, to probe her enemy, but before she could, a dark shadow lunged. The attack was a blatant disregard for honor.
Felicia quickly dodged, simultaneously flinging three silver needles with her other hand. Though nearly invisible, the needles were met with a sharp reaction. With a twist, her assailant evaded them. As expected of the group's leader; his reflexes were extraordinary.
After dodging the needles, the black-clad leader charged again, aiming to seize her. Felicia used the flashlight as a weapon, engaging in a fierce exchange. The leader seemed surprised by the intensity of her close-quarters combat. They traded blows, more than a dozen in rapid succession. Felicia defended expertly, leaving no openings while seizing opportunities to counterattack.
The leader chuckled, his first words: "You're interesting, but..." He trailed off. Felicia sensed the shift; his attacks became more ferocious and brutal. The disparity in strength forced her onto the defensive as he relentlessly pushed her back.
The leader showed no intention of prolonging the fight. His final strike aimed to knock her down. But as his elbow neared her temple, he froze, unable to move. He looked down, surprised to find two more silver needles embedded in his abdomen. When had that happened? He had no recollection. He'd been ambushed.
The leader chuckled angrily, then used his mobile limbs to remove the needles. The moment he regained movement, he charged again. Felicia didn't dodge; she stood three steps before him. As he lunged, she drew her weapon.
"Don't move."
The dark barrel of the gun was aimed at the leader's forehead. Felicia, also dressed in black, her long hair now loose from the struggle, stood amidst the swaying leaves and the fallen flashlight. She held the gun, smiled at the leader, and echoed his words, adding, "...unfortunately, I won't show mercy."
The leader raised an eyebrow, but remained silent. Felicia pressed the gun firmly against his forehead, her tone hardening. "Who's behind your organization? Who else have you killed, and where are they?"