The air was thick with the sounds of laughter and the rattling of metal tracks. Lights flashed in neon greens and blues, bathing the roller coaster in an electric glow. Josh Cruise squinted at the twisting steel ahead, trying to keep his nerves in check. He had never liked heights, and the idea of climbing into a car that would hurl him at breakneck speeds through loops and turns didn't sit well with him.

  Lauri nudged him with her elbow, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Relax, Josh. It's just a roller coaster. What's the worst that could happen?"

  "Uh, a lot?" Josh shot back, still eyeing the tracks suspiciously. He tugged at the strap of the sword slung over his shoulder, feeling its comforting weight. He never went anywhere without it, especially not now, with so many enemies around.

  Vlad stood a few feet away, smoking a cigarette and staring at the roller coaster with a look of mild disinterest. His dark hair was tousled by the wind, and he wore his usual suit and tie like he was ready for a business meeting rather than a theme park. "I fail to see the appeal," he muttered, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "But, I suppose we all need a distraction from time to time."

  Lojan Mackimee chuckled, his voice booming with amusement. "C'mon, Vlad, live a little! You're always so... what's the word? Stoic!" He patted Vlad on the back, only to get a cold stare in return. "Besides, we're here to relax, right? At least until we have to go back to the hotel and deal with William and whatever surprises he's got waiting for us."

  "Relaxing?" Vlad smirked. "Is that what we're calling this?" His hand drifted to the hilt of his karabela, fingers tapping rhythmically. He never let his guard down, not even for a second.

  The group moved closer to the entrance of the coaster, the rumble of the ride growing louder with each passing second. Josh took a deep breath and glanced over at Lauri. She seemed excited, practically vibrating with energy. Her brown hair whipped around her face, and her eyes were bright with anticipation.

  As the coaster cars pulled into the station, screeching to a halt, the group prepared to board. Lauri jumped in first, taking the front seat. Josh hesitated but then climbed in beside her. Lojan hopped into the row behind them, still grinning like a kid in a candy store. Vlad remained outside, leaning casually against a railing.

  "I'll keep watch," Vlad said. "Just in case."

  Josh nodded, grateful for the precaution. They were far too exposed here, and with all the enemies they'd made recently, it wouldn't be a surprise if something—or someone—showed up to ruin their day.

  The coaster jerked forward, slowly climbing up the first hill. The chain clanked loudly beneath them, each click echoing like a countdown to something ominous. Josh gripped the safety bar tightly, his heart racing faster with each passing second. Lauri was laughing, her excitement infectious. Even Lojan seemed genuinely thrilled, his hands thrown up in the air.

  But then, as they reached the peak of the first drop, something changed. Josh felt a sudden chill run down his spine, a sense of impending danger.

  Before he could say a word, an arrow whizzed through the air with a faint, deadly hiss.

  It struck Lauri in the back.

  She gasped, her body jolting forward as pain flashed across her face. For a split second, her eyes met Josh's, wide with shock.

  "Lauri!" Josh shouted, reaching out to her.

  The adrenaline surged through Vlad's veins as he sprinted after Archerio, weaving through the chaotic park. The crowd was still reeling from the sudden attack; panicked screams and confused shouts filled the air as park-goers scattered in every direction.

  Vlad kept his eyes locked on his target. Archerio was fast—frighteningly so—his movements fluid and unpredictable. He darted between clusters of people, using them as human shields, and occasionally glancing back with a mocking grin. Vlad clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around the hilt of his karabela. The slick wooden handle felt cool in his palm, a familiar weight he trusted more than anything else in this forsaken country.

  Ahead, Archerio made a sharp turn and vaulted over a low fence into a restricted area behind the rides. Vlad barely hesitated, bounding over the barrier with a single leap, landing silently on the other side. Archerio was slowing down, catching his breath. They were entering a quieter section now, away from the noise and lights. Archerio finally stopped and turned, his smile wide, his bow held loosely at his side.

  "Not bad for a guy with no powers," Archerio called, his voice echoing off the surrounding buildings. "You almost kept up."

  Vlad smirked, but his dark eyes remained cold. "Almost? I'm here, aren't I?"

  Archerio chuckled, twirling an arrow between his fingers like a drumstick. "I'll give you that. But you're not exactly an easy target, either." He tilted his head, his eyes flicking over Vlad with calculated interest. "So what's the plan, swordsman? Going to throw that toothpick at me?"

  Vlad took a step forward, his expression never changing. "I don't miss."

  Archerio raised an eyebrow, amused. "Neither do I. And I've got a bit more range on my side." He twirled the arrow once more before nocking it against his bowstring. "Tell you what, Vlad. Let's make this interesting. One shot each. No dodging. We see who's standing at the end."

  Vlad's lip curled slightly. "You think I'm stupid enough to agree to that?"

  Archerio shrugged, pulling the bowstring back a few inches. "Fair point. But you did chase me here alone. Doesn't scream 'smart' to me." He paused, then lowered his bow slightly. "Why don't we talk instead? This whole thing is for money, right? Maybe we can find a... mutually beneficial arrangement."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Vlad snorted. "You think I'm here for the money?"

  Archerio's grin widened. "Everyone's here for the money, Vlad. Even you. The difference is, I don't think you like who you're working for. You don't seem like the type to take orders... especially from people like them."

  Vlad's face darkened. "You don't know a damn thing about me."

  "I know more than you think," Archerio replied smoothly. "I know you're from Klaclmenistan. I know they sent you to get that ticket, and I know you don't want to give it to them. So, why do their dirty work? Why not just take the ticket and vanish?"

  Vlad's grip on his sword tightened. "And what's in it for you?"

  Archerio's eyes gleamed. "Simple. I walk away with my life, and you get to pretend you're a hero. Everybody wins."

  Vlad stared at him for a moment, considering. He knew Archerio was stalling, buying time for whatever backup plan he had in mind. But Vlad wasn't here to negotiate. He had his own reasons, his own mission.

  He took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You should've aimed better."

  Archerio's smile faltered for just a split second. "What do you—"

  In a flash, Vlad surged forward, his karabela slicing through the air. Archerio leapt back, nocking the arrow and firing with lightning speed. Vlad dodged, the arrow whizzing past his ear, so close he could feel the wind from its flight.

  They stood there, a heartbeat away from violence, each waiting for the other to make the next move.

  Archerio chuckled softly, still holding his bow at the ready. "Looks like we're back to square one, huh?"

  Vlad nodded, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. But this time... no one's running."

  The tension crackled between them like static in the air. A showdown was inevitable, but neither seemed in a rush to break the silence.

  Vlad Ivanov moved like a ghost through the moonlit alley, his steps soundless, his eyes locked on Archerio. The archer's mocking grin was gone, replaced by a look of grim concentration. His bow was raised, the tension in the string taut as he aimed another arrow directly at Vlad's head.

  Vlad smirked, the cigarette still dangling from his lips, the tip glowing red. "Still think you can hit me?" he taunted.

  Archerio sneered, "99% accuracy, Vlad. Don't let that 1% fool you."

  He let the arrow fly, but Vlad was already moving, a blur of black against the darkness. The arrow cut through the air with a sharp hiss, embedding itself into a brick wall behind Vlad, who had dodged with an almost lazy ease.

  "Close," Vlad said, rolling his shoulders, his hand resting on the hilt of his karabela. "But not close enough."

  Archerio didn't reply. He moved sideways, his eyes narrowing as he tracked Vlad's every movement. He drew another arrow from the quiver on his back, his fingers a blur of motion. His breathing was steady, controlled — a professional at work. His bow twanged, and two arrows were loosed in rapid succession.

  Vlad ducked and spun, the arrows passing harmlessly by him, one nicking a strand of his dark hair. His feet never stopped moving, each step calculated, purposeful. He closed the distance between them with a frightening speed, his hand now gripping the karabela tightly.

  "You're quick," Archerio admitted, backpedaling to keep space between them. "But I'm faster."

  Archerio shifted his stance, shooting three arrows at once. One flew low, aimed for Vlad's feet; another was aimed at his chest; the third, a feint, directly at his face.

  Vlad's eyes flickered with excitement. He dropped to a knee, letting the low arrow sail overhead, twisted his torso to dodge the chest shot, and snapped his head to the side to avoid the third arrow. The moves were fluid, almost graceful.

  He was close now, dangerously close. Archerio's grin faltered as he realized Vlad was almost within striking distance.

  "You talk too much," Vlad said, his voice calm, almost bored.

  Archerio snarled, swinging the bow like a club, aiming for Vlad's head. Vlad ducked again and, with a flash of steel, brought the karabela up. Archerio leaped back, but Vlad's blade was faster, slicing cleanly through the string of the bow, rendering it useless.

  Archerio's eyes widened, his 99% confidence suddenly wavering. "Damn it," he muttered, dropping the bow and reaching for a dagger strapped to his thigh.

  Vlad didn't give him a moment to recover. He lunged forward, slashing with the karabela. Archerio parried with his dagger, the steel singing as they met. For a moment, they were locked in place, eyes locked, muscles straining.

  "Think you're hot shit, don't you?" Archerio spat, his breath labored.

  "I don't think," Vlad replied coldly, "I know."

  He broke the stalemate with a sharp kick to Archerio's knee, sending the archer stumbling back. Archerio slashed wildly with his dagger, but Vlad sidestepped, bringing his sword down in a vicious arc. Archerio managed to block it, but the force sent him reeling.

  Archerio was fast, but Vlad was relentless. He pressed forward, every swing of his sword more precise, every step pushing Archerio back. The archer's confidence was evaporating, replaced by frustration and fear. He could see it in Vlad's eyes — that calm, unyielding focus, like a wolf cornering its prey.

  "Give up," Vlad said. "You're outmatched."

  "Never," Archerio growled, launching himself at Vlad with a desperate fury.

  Vlad sidestepped again, his karabela moving like a silver snake. Archerio's eyes widened as the blade cut through the air, too fast to see, and then—

  Schwttk!

  Archerio's head rolled cleanly off his shoulders, his body collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, staining the concrete. Vlad stood over the fallen body, his sword dripping red, his face impassive.

  "99%," Vlad muttered, wiping his blade on Archerio's cloak. "But that 1% always gets you."

  He turned away, exhaling a cloud of smoke, and saw William Dangerfield approaching from the shadows, his expression grim. "Nice work," William said, his voice carrying a note of grudging respect.

  "Didn't need your approval," Vlad replied, sheathing his sword. "Or your help."

  William smirked. "Wasn't planning to offer any."

  A moment later, they heard hurried footsteps approaching. Lauri, Josh, and Lojan appeared, panting from the run. Lojan, ever the joker, broke the tension first.

  "Well, well," he said, surveying the carnage with a mock whistle, "looks like Vlad here went for the headshot."

  Josh looked a little pale, clearly not accustomed to seeing so much blood. Lauri, on the other hand, was staring at Vlad with an odd mix of admiration and concern. "You're okay?" she asked softly.

  Vlad shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

  Josh tried to make light of the situation. "So... you're the best swordsman, huh? No powers, just... swords?"

  "Just swords," Vlad replied, lighting another cigarette.

  Lojan clapped his hands together, still grinning. "You guys coming or what? The clock's ticking, and I don't think Archerio here's getting up anytime soon."

  They turned to leave, moving as a group toward the hotel they'd agreed to meet at earlier. But before they could get far, a deep voice cut through the air like a knife.

  "Leaving so soon?"

  They turned to see Jorge Garcia, Benito Garcia's father, stepping out from the shadows. He looked calm, almost serene, but there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I was wondering when you'd show up," William said, folding his arms across his chest.

  Jorge gave a thin smile. "Well, I do love a good spectacle. But you've been causing quite a stir, and I think it's time we talked."

  Vlad stepped forward, his hand instinctively moving toward his sword. "I'm not much for talking."

  Jorge raised a hand, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. "Easy, Vlad. I'm not here to fight... yet. Just to discuss the fate of things."

  Josh felt a chill run down his spine. He had heard enough about Jorge Garcia to know that nothing good ever came from him "discussing" anything.

  Lauri looked at Jorge, then back at Vlad and the others. "What do you want, Garcia?" she demanded, her voice stronger than she felt.

  Jorge's smile widened, his eyes cold. "Why, my dear... I just want to see where the rocks land in the river."

  He took a step closer, and the air around them seemed to thrum with energy, as if the universe itself was holding its breath. "So, shall we begin?"

  The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and as they stood facing Jorge, every nerve was on edge, every instinct screaming that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

  To Be Continued...