"Humanity is irredeemable. It must be destroyed."
***
Madara sat across from Morgan, his face cold and impenetrable, like a mask carved from stone. His eyes, sharp as blades, cut through the space between them, betraying no emotion. Morgan had been drilling him with her gaze for half an hour, trying to find a weakness, but Madara remained unshaken. He despised weakness, whether in himself or others. Finally, she broke the oppressive silence.
"Good day, Mr. Madara," she said, trying to sound confident, but a shadow of doubt lingered in her voice.
"Good day, Miss Morgan," he replied, his voice as smooth as the surface of a lake before a storm. He didn't grant her even a hint of respect, only the formal politeness that sounded almost mocking.
Morgan rose from her chair and began to slowly circle him, like a predator assessing its prey. But Madara knew she was nothing more than a small fish in an ocean where he was the shark.
"So, I'd like to know why you decided to work for the Clan of Valor," she asked, stopping behind his back.
Madara answered as he always did, but his words now carried a venom wrapped in sweetness.
"I needed money, and you pay well enough. Plus, I'm awakened," he said, tilting his head slightly, as if inviting her to fill in the blanks herself. Inside, he was already planning how he would make her pay for this audacity.
"But why didn't you join the Clan of Song or the Clan of Night?" she pressed, trying to corner him.
"There are several reasons," he replied, his voice like steel scraping against stone. "First, your people brought me to the academy." *True, they tried to pry out all my secrets in the process, but I'll make you pay for that later.* "Second, I passed through the gates of the Bastion, which belongs to you. And finally, the pay here is very good."
"Then why didn't you stay in the Bastion and instead chose the Chain Islands?" she asked, hoping to catch him off guard.
"There's more prey and less competition on the Chain Islands," Madara answered honestly, but his honesty was merely a facade. He knew the truth was a weapon to be used against those who sought it.
"So, are you loyal to the Clan of Valor?" Her voice grew tense, as if she sensed she was losing control of the situation.
"Generally, yes," he replied, his words like a knife plunged into her confidence.
Morgan began circling him again, her steps slow but uncertain. She knew she was playing with fire but couldn't stop herself.
"Then I have a proposition for you, but with one condition," she said, stopping behind him, her voice quieter but threatening. "You can leave now, or you can listen and agree." She didn't elaborate on what would happen if he refused, but it wasn't necessary.
Madara paused for a moment. If he refused, he could continue his plan in silence and shadow. But if he agreed, he would gain access to secrets that could accelerate his rise. He hated being a pawn, but even a pawn could become a king.
"I'll hear your proposal," he said, his voice calm, but inside he was already preparing to tear this game apart.
"Excellent," Morgan nodded, returning to her desk. "Then there's no turning back." She waved her hand, and the door behind Madara closed with a dull thud.
"Now that you've agreed, I can tell you everything," she began, her tone businesslike but still tinged with uncertainty. "Our clan needs covert assassins. My grandfather didn't think of it, and my father was busy with other matters, so the task falls to me. And you are a perfect fit for the role."
Madara listened without moving, but inside he was laughing. They thought they could use him? He was the one who used others, not the other way around.
"First, your attribute. As you stated, you are exceptionally skilled with daggers and can throw them with incredible precision. Second, we've observed you and discovered many interesting things. For example, you make no sound when you walk. Or how you always keep your hands near your waist, close to a pair of throwing knives. And finally, you have no family. So, if you were to disappear, no one would come looking for you."
Madara nodded, but inside he burned with rage. He hadn't noticed the surveillance, and that was an insult. But he showed nothing. His face remained as stoic as ever.
"You won't refuse, will you?" she clarified, turning to face him.
"No, of course not," Madara replied quickly, his voice icy, but inside he was already preparing to destroy anyone who stood in his way.
"Good. Then you have twenty-four hours to prepare. After that, someone will come for you and take you to a place where you'll be trained in all the necessary skills. But don't try to run, or else..." Her words hung in the air, but Madara already knew it was an empty threat.
He nodded, but inside he was laughing. They wanted to teach him, Madara, about infiltration and assassination? He could teach them how to die. At that moment, he vowed to destroy everyone who stood in his way, making them scream in pain and despair.
They were all pathetic fools, and they would all meet the same fate—a brutal death at his feet. Not a single thought showed on his face as he contemplated this.
Leaving the office, he felt the fox return, becoming a shadow on his back. It relayed that the Anbu squad had fully understood their mission and were now in standby mode. Madara smirked. When he rose to the top, he would reward everyone who stood by him. But now, he wasn't planning to lose. He would either win or make sure his enemies couldn't call their victory a triumph without choking on their own blood.
He sent the fox to warn the Anbu not to approach him, as he might be under surveillance. Descending to the lower levels, he retrieved his belongings from the locker room and headed home, walking through the grim streets of the city. He could feel someone watching him, and it filled him with rage. But not a single emotion showed on his face.
Returning home, Madara began packing, taking everything he needed. He then showered, changed into fresh clothes, and lay down in the sleep capsule. Now, he had to meet with his squad and explain their next tasks.
Closing his eyes in the capsule, he opened them again standing beside an obsidian altar. From there, he headed to their current base, located on a dangerous and remote island.
After crossing several islands, he suddenly ducked into the bushes, created a clone, and merged with the surroundings. After waiting forty minutes, he continued on his way, confident he had shaken off any pursuers.
He ran across the islands, moving from chain to chain. Some were filled with beautiful flowers and lush forests, but it was all a facade. Falling asleep in those fields meant never waking up, and the trees were aggressively hostile to any human. Other islands were deserts with ancient ruins, remnants of past glory. But they were no safer. Giant ants roamed there, their vision detecting targets from hundreds of meters away, making escape nearly impossible.
Finally, he saw their base. It was a large island, about seven kilometers wide, covered in cliffs and rocky slopes without a trace of vegetation. But the most interesting part was the cave entrance he had discovered under one of the cliffs. Inside, he had found countless monsters—disgusting worms, giant bats, and animated skeletons. They had tried to kill him, but failed. Madara, along with the Anbu, had begun clearing the caves, setting up a base in one of the sections. But at the center of the caves lay a giant worm, a corrupted tyrant guarding the gates. Madara knew he would destroy it one day.
Jumping onto the island, Madara headed for the base. Today, he would meet with the Anbu and decide their next move. But in his eyes burned a fire that could not be extinguished. He was moving toward his goal, and nothing would stop him.
***
So, here's a new chapter. Did I promise there wouldn't be one today? Yes, I did. But why should I keep my promise? Words are worthless anyway.
I decided to keep writing because, honestly, I have nothing better to do.
So, I hope you'll enjoy it, but I'm done softening the story. From now on, it will be as I originally intended—brutal and bloody to the extreme.
I'm too tired of trying to seem better than I am. Why bother? My attempts to be better have never succeeded—no, they've only made things worse.
Besides, I've seen enough of people—their greed, their betrayal, their empty promises. It's in all of us, but everyone tries to hide it.
Some believe in some "God," others donate to charity, and some even help people directly. But they only do it because of the law. They live, work, and die by the law. The law is what matters. But what if it disappeared?
Everyone would reveal their true nature. Pathetic, greedy, vile, and cruel—that's what they really are. And I'm tired of hiding it. Why fake a smile? Why pity the poor? Why bother?
I hate all those hypocrites.
That's why I'll write what I want and how I want. However, I'll listen to the opinions of those who enjoy my book. But if you don't like it or think you can do better—well, go ahead and off yourself.
Best wishes to everyone. 😺