Novel & Cerita Invisible Black Knife Assassin

I secretly pressed the alarm on my sports watch, Haressa received it. “Let's go!" he says. Oba immediately acted and together they raised their guns that had silencers. While Glendy and I slowly pulled out the mini-hunting knives that were currently hidden in our hair. Both men didn't notice because their conversation was serious. When I got the small mini-hunting knife, it immediately slashed Yin Tong's neck. “Assassin—”

No wailing, no name-mixing, no drama but a good f*ck! Just as I thought it was the right time to comfort my throbbing boner, the door slammed open. I cursed and swiftly pointed my gun at the intruder. “Andare a puttane!” (Go to wh*res and be f*cked!) James Mathews. My right-hand man in the black and white business raised a brow and smirked offhandedly, “You could’ve been blowed good but you rather choose to blow up in my face.” So he had seen the sinful temptation trotting down.

Directly in Raidon's line of sight, by the grand chandelier of the hall, a figure dressed in black plummeted—the very assassin who had attempted the ambush, then utterly defeated! "Is he... is he dead?!" In that instant, it was not just the grievously injured Raidon who witnessed the fall of the assassin in black. Every guest in the hall saw it, including Franklin, of course! He fixed his gaze on the lifeless body of the black-clad assassin. His hands balled into fists so tight that his nails were about to break through the skin. One thought lingered in his mind—that was the end. The dead man wore the Zadra family's sacred tokens and the unique insignia of the Eight-Armed Guardian's external

The glass roof above them clouded with sudden mist, obscuring the silver moon. A sound split the air—metal on stone, a whisper and a scream in one. From the upper balcony, a figure dropped into the atrium with the silence of a falling star. Black cloak, silver mask, twin blades that gleamed like shards of the moon-silver vein recently unearthed beneath the Vale. Gasps erupted. Chairs scraped. Wolves half-shifted in instinctive defense. The assassin moved with deadly economy, crossing the marble floor in a blur toward the dais. One blade angled for Maxim, the other for Kael.

“If you don’t reveal yourself, I will make you.” I knew trying to run for the door was useless. Whoever this was, they would strike before I even got close. They had the upper hand, and we both knew it. “I said show yourself!” I snapped, louder this time. Then, just like that someone appeared in front of me. It was like he stepped out of the shadows, silent as death, dressed entirely in black with his face hidden. Every inch of him screamed of danger. I didn’t need a second guess, he was an assassin. I could feel it in my gut. His movements were too precise, too trained. And judging by his build, the broad shoulders and height, he was a man.

Nine smiled, catching sight of me before giving me a glass of water “I should be proud to see that you are still fit despite everything that you have been dealing with” “I was trained by the ancient assassin, what else do you expect?” I winked. Nina laughed, shaking her head at me, I nodded toward the door, shaking my head in question “what’s gotten up his panties?” Nina stayed quiet for a few seconds, nodding at me to follow her. We entered the storage room beside the kitchen and I frowned in confusion, waiting for what she was going to say. Nina barricaded the door before turning to face me, muttering a low chant under her breath “the room is now soundproof, no one can hear what we’re sayi

I just want to be able to forget everything for a few hours. Suddenly, I feel the air moving behind me, slightly to my left. By pure reflex acquired by years of intensive training, I bend to my right with superhuman speed and feel an excruciating pain along my left leg. Leaning forward, I kick back, praying that it will crush my opponent's nose, but I only hit his torso. I turn around to face a man dressed in black. His hood shows only his eyes, which are as black and expressionless as those of a shark. In his hand is a knife covered with my blood that glows in the darkness.

A figure dropped from the ceiling beams. It didn't make a sound when it landed. It was wrapped in charcoal-grey rags that seemed to absorb the candlelight. It didn't have a scent of a wolf; it smelled like a void. A Shadow-Pack assassin. They were the Council’s silent blades, wolves who had been stripped of their souls to become nothing but killing intent. The assassin held a glass sphere filled with a roiling, black liquid. "The archives must burn," a voice rasped from beneath the rags. It sounded like stones grinding together in a dry creek bed.

The girl who had shaken the Academia to its bones. He reached the door. Hand ghosting over the handle. He never felt the blade that took his life. A figure appeared behind him. Cloak of shifting moonlight. White porcelain mask. No features. Black hoodie failing to conceal his horns. Dagger. The assassin whose reputation was whispered in the darkest corners of the underworld. SHING. Twin blades carved through the intruder's throat before he could gasp. Surgical. Brutal. Efficient. Dagger kicked the corpse into a pocket dimension. Bored flick of his boot. Not a single drop of blood stained the carpet.

The sound of fracturing carbon-fiber armor and snapping bone echoed through the lab as the assassin was lifted off the ground, crashing violently into a row of metal storage lockers fifty feet away. The fourth assassin panicked, discarding his heavy rifle and drawing a high-frequency vibro-blade from his hip. He lunged at Rhys’s throat, but Rhys simply raised his left arm. The vibro-blade slammed against the dense carbon-fiber plates of the moonstone wraps, emitting a shower of bright orange sparks.