Scanning the warehouse interior, Adam kept low, his eyes darting across the dimly lit space. Beside him, Tiggy remained in its painted form, clinging seamlessly to the wall.
He slipped inside, weaving between makeshift walls and crates, moving like a shadow. Through gaps in the partitions, he caught sight of Viper gang members scattered throughout the building.
Seven, he counted. But there had to be more. The raid team hadn't engaged yet—no sounds of gunfire, no signs of chaos. They must still be negotiating.
Either I wait for the negotiations to break down... or I give them the excuse to strike.
He scanned the area again, carefully mapping out the layout in his mind. Thankfully, Tiggy kept to its painted form, slithering along the walls, unnoticed.
Spotting a stairwell to the side, Adam hesitated, then took the risk. He crept up the steps, keeping low and quiet. At the top, he found a cluster of crates and ducked behind them. One crate caught his eye—military markings, worn but unmistakable.
His pulse quickened.
He pried open the lid with slow, steady hands. Inside, rows of grenades gleamed in the low light.
Perfect.
A grin touched his lips, the glint in his eyes turning sharp and dangerous. Nothing would cause more chaos than an explosion.
Peeking over the crates, he examined the second floor. Four guards loomed above, watching the ground level from the railings. Below, three more sat at a table covered with a radio and assorted machinery, likely receiving instructions.
Then he noticed one guard posted by a reinforced door at the back of the warehouse.
That door...
Either the victims are in there, or something far more important.
Adam gestured subtly to Tiggy. The tiger's mural form rippled along the floor, sliding closer like an animated ink drawing. Adam whispered, "I'm going to cause a distraction. When I say go, take down every hostile in this room. Understand?"
Tiggy didn't respond—just stared with glowing golden eyes.
I'll take that as a yes.
Adam grabbed several grenades from the crate. He picked his first targets—the three by the table with the radio. Then, his eyes shifted to the two talking on the railing. The rest could be handled in the chaos.
With a deep breath, he pulled the pins.
Two grenades bounced onto the floor near the radio table. The thugs looked down—confused at first, then terrified.
"GRENA—!"
BOOM!
The warehouse erupted with six consecutive explosions. Dust and shrapnel scattered. Adam hit the ground, bracing himself against the shockwave.
"Tiggy, go!" he shouted, leaping to his feet.
Tiggy launched from the shadows like a cannonball, smashing into the nearest thugs with bone-crushing force. Screams and gunfire followed.
Adam dashed toward a guard who was knocked down by the blast. The thug scrambled to raise his weapon, but Adam's momentum-driven knee hit first—knocking him out cold.
Chaos engulfed the warehouse.
Tiggy tore through the space like a white blur, flattening opponents with brutal, precise swipes. Adam had been right—there were more than seven guards. Reinforcements had been hidden or stationed deeper within.
Then, a door burst open nearby.
Four more armed guards emerged. They spotted Adam instantly, raising their guns.
His eyes widened. He bolted for cover, bullets tearing through the air. Pain exploded across his shoulder and thigh as rounds hit him, but he gritted his teeth and drew his knives.
His wounds began to regenerate, though not fast enough.
Tsk.
He burst from cover, charging head-on. The guards opened fire again. One bullet struck his head—he stumbled, body slamming into the ground.
"He's down!" one of them shouted.
But Adam stirred—slowly rising to his feet, blood running down his face, eyes burning with fury. Before the stunned guards could react, he lunged. His blade pierced the chest of the first man, who gasped in disbelief. Using the dying body as a shield, Adam surged forward.
The others fired while retreating—hitting their own comrade as Adam closed the gap. He shoved the body forward, crashing it into a second guard, and sliced the man's neck in a single motion.
Another shot rang out—again to his head. Adam dropped to his knees, vision flickering.
"Keep firing! He'll get back up!"
Bullets tore into him, but Adam clung to consciousness. When the click of an empty magazine echoed, he launched up, punching the nearest thug square in the jaw with brutal force, knocking him out cold.
The last guard dropped his weapon, hands raised. "W-wait! Don't kill me!"
Adam's blood-soaked hand raised his pistol, aiming at the man's head.
"Where are the victims?!"
The thug trembled. "V-victims? What victims?"
"The kidnapping victims! Where are they?! Where's David Sofer?!" Adam pushed the pistol to the thug's head.
"We don't... we don't do kidnappings!" The man answered while sweating profusely.
Viper's not doing kidnappings? Bullshit.
Then as if remembering something, the man quickly waved. "W-wait! I think I know who that David is! The young boss—he brought someone to the basement earlier. It was something personal to him, that's all I know!"
Adam's voice dropped to a growl. "Where's the basement?"
The man pointed quickly. "Th-there! That metal door—on the first floor! It leads down!"
Adam stared at him for a beat—then punched him unconscious.
He glanced up to the third-floor railing. Tiggy sat proudly atop a stack of crates, tail flicking, golden eyes surveying the wreckage below with regal disinterest.
"Tiggy!" Adam called. "Stay here and guard the area! Attack anyone who comes for you!"
Tiggy ignored him—but Adam took it as compliance.
With no time to waste, he dropped down to the first floor and approached the heavy metal door the guard had indicated.
Adam froze as a new sound echoed from outside. Gunfire.
The raid had begun.
Without hesitation, he pushed through the heavy metal door. A narrow stairwell descended into darkness. He rushed down the stairs, heart pounding, boots echoing against the concrete.
Just one level down.
At the bottom, the corridor bent sharply around a corner—and a man stood there, frowning at the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Hey! What's going on up there?" the man called out, stepping forward. Then his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Wait, who the hell are you? Don't move!"
He raised his weapon.
Adam didn't stop and charged at him.
The thug fired—three, four times—bullets tearing into Adam's torso. He staggered, pain flaring, but didn't slow. He surged forward, closing the distance in seconds.
The man tried to swing the butt of his weapon, but Adam punched it aside with sheer force. The guard went tumbling backward, crashing into the wall. As he struggled to rise, Adam's boot struck his head with brutal force—knocking him out cold.
Breathing hard, Adam scanned the hallway.
Two doors.
He rushed to the nearest, kicked it open. Bright fluorescent light revealed rows of monitors, scattered computers, and humming machinery. A lab, maybe. Nothing immediately useful.
He turned to the second door, slammed it open.
This room was dim, lit only by a flickering overhead light. His eyes adjusted—and there, slumped against the far wall, was a figure.
Adam rushed forward.
A young man was cuffed by the wrist to a metal table, bloodied and bruised but breathing.
There was no mistaking him.
Tia's brother. David Sofer.
Adam knelt beside him and checked his vitals—unconscious, but alive. Without hesitation, Adam gripped the metallic cuff and wrenched it apart with brute force. The metal groaned, then snapped.
He hoisted David over his shoulder and took one last look around. Nothing else of interest.
As he ascended the stairs, he spotted Tiggy prowling the first floor now, surrounded by more unconscious—or dead—Viper thugs.
"I've got David. Cover us, Tiggy!" Adam called out, pushing forward.
Tiggy growled softly, padding after him.
Outside, Adam spotted Tia and Arnold waiting anxiously near the edge of the warehouse.
"You got him!" Tia gasped, eyes wide with relief. Arnold nodded, feeling the same. He then looks behind Adam. "And the other victims?"
Adam shook his head. "Only found David. They claimed they don't do kidnapping. I call bullshit."
Arnold exhaled sharply. "Alright. I'll take him back to the car. Sarah can check his injuries."
Adam handed David over, and Arnold took off like a bullet, vaulting the fence without missing a step.
Adam turned to Tia. "Let's move. Same way out—back fence."
Tia gave a sharp nod, dismissing Tiggy with a wave. The white tiger shimmered out of existence, fading into painted mist.
Gunfire still echoed from the main gate, the perfect distraction.
They slipped past the chaos, ducking behind rubble, through the fence, making their way to the cover of the trees.
Then they ran.