The black muzzle of Commander Marcus’s long-barreled assault rifle hummed softly, reflecting the dim, unstable flicker of the factory's overhead neon lights. The weapon's tip was locked dead steady, aimed straight between Jason's eyes. The stench of gunpowder, blood, and ammonia hung thick in the air, creating a suffocating atmosphere that made every second drag out like an eternity.

Jason stood tall, driven by the final reserves of strength wracking his body. The gunshot wound in his right shoulder felt like it was burning in hellfire; every ragged breath he drew sent an agonizing spike of pain stabbing straight through to his ribs. Even so, the former operative's gaze remained as sharp as a dagger, refusing to bow before the traitor.

"Lower your weapon, Marcus," Jason rasped, his voice cold yet ringing with absolute authority inside the silent chemical plant reactor room. "This game is between you and me. Leave the kid out of it."

Marcus offered a thin smile, a cold, arrogant smirk typical of a senior commander who felt he held all the cards. He shook his head slowly, his index finger hovering ready over the rifle trigger.

"This game isn't about you and me anymore, Jason," Marcus replied calmly, his voice laced with the hiss of a venomous snake. "This is about the end of an era. You insist on clinging to dead, obsolete idealism, while the world moves forward under the control of the Ouroboros syndicate. And the kid behind you..." Marcus flicked a brief glance toward the corner where Leo hid. "...is the final key that will unlock that vault of absolute authority."

Leo, hearing his name called from behind the old chemical mixing machine, sucked in a sharp breath. The young man's face turned deathly pale, his entire body trembling violently. He clutched the data laptop tight against his chest, praying his silhouette remained hidden from Marcus's sight.

Yet, that hope shattered in a heartbeat.

Marcus never broke his gaze from Jason, but his left hand suddenly whipped out to the side, snatching a flash-bang grenade from his tactical belt and hurling it straight toward Leo's corner hiding spot.

Bang!

A blinding flash of white light and a concussive blast detonated instantly in the corner of the room.

"Argh!" Leo screamed hysterically, collapsing to the floor while shielding his stinging eyes from the blinding glare and the thick billows of white smoke.

"Leo!" Jason hissed in fury.

Before Jason could step forward to shield him, Marcus—moving with a lightning-fast agility that defied his age—surged straight through the smoke plume. Within seconds, the old man was right beside the chemical mixer, grabbing a fistful of Leo's bomber jacket collar and dragging the young man forcibly to his feet.

"Let me go! Don't touch me!" Leo shrieked, thrashing around in sheer terror, dropping his small pouch while the data laptop nearly slipped from his white-knuckled grip.

Marcus jammed his Glock straight against Leo's temple, while keeping his rifle muzzle leveled at Jason to keep the operative from closing the gap.

"Hear that, Jason?" Marcus shouted loudly, his voice rising clear over Leo's ragged breaths. "Just one twitch of my finger, and this genius data analyst's head is going to get ventilated before he can hack the final-stage encryption. Drop your knife on the floor! Now!"

Jason froze. His tactical brain spun like a hurricane. He stood roughly ten meters from Marcus, separated by stacks of chemical drums and puddles of industrial waste. If he threw his blade, Marcus could still pull the trigger. If he launched a frontal charge, Marcus's reflexes wouldn't grant him a window. Leo's life hung by a thread—a mere millimeter away from the grave.

"Don't do it, Jason!" Leo sobbed amid his tears, staring at Jason with weeping eyes. "Don't hand the data over to this monster! Just let me die!"

"Shut up, you stupid kid!" Marcus barked, tightening his chokehold around Leo's neck until the young man choked for air. Marcus snapped his gaze back to Jason with a triumphant smirk. "Time's up, Jason. Three... two..."

Jason had no other choice. In the rulebook of a black-ops operative, sacrifice was the highest currency. If he had to die to ensure the data survived and Leo got a fighting chance at life, he would do it without a second thought.

Yet, instead of dropping his knife or surrendering like Marcus demanded, Jason's eyes darted sharply upward.

Directly over Marcus's head spanned a four-meter-high steel catwalk—a rusted, fragile utility line connecting two sides of the reactor plant's upper catwalks, but offering a textbook dropping angle.

This is the only shot, Jason whispered coldly in his mind.

Disregarding his dying physical state, ignoring the agony crushing his shoulder blade and bones, Jason channeled every last ounce of explosive energy from his leg muscles. In a single decisive second, instead of surrendering, Jason bolted sideways, scrambling like lightning up the vertical iron ladder toward the upper catwalk!

"Hey! Stop right there!" Marcus snarled in shock, spotting Jason's sudden movement. Marcus instantly whipped his rifle muzzle upward, preparing to hose Jason down with lead.

Yet, Jason's inhuman speed caught him flat-footed. The moment he reached the lip of the four-meter-high catwalk, Jason didn't waste a millisecond of hesitation. Ignoring his body's screaming warnings, Jason launched himself into a freefall dive through the air like an eagle striking its prey from the heights!

What?! Marcus gasped, snapping his head up in shock as he watched Jason's falling silhouette plunge straight toward him from above.

Crash!

Jason's body slammed squarely into Marcus with incredible velocity and gravitational momentum. Both men crashed hard onto the hard factory cement floor, breaking Marcus's chokehold on Leo's neck. The firearm in Marcus's grip skittered far away into a puddle of water.

"Argh!" Marcus choked out as his spine slammed hard against the cement, taking the full brunt of the operative's reckless tackle.

Leo, freed from the jaws of death, scrambled backward frantically with ragged breaths, clutching his data laptop tight while weeping hysterically. "Jason! Oh god, Jason!"

Yet, that brief victory exacted a catastrophic price.

The brutal impact of landing on the cement floor with his right shoulder smashing against a concrete corner shattered Jason's physical defenses instantly. The emergency stitches and makeshift binder holding his right shoulder together blew out completely all at once.

Squelch!

Fresh blood sprayed heavily from the gunshot wound on Jason's right shoulder, soaking the factory cement floor within seconds with a dark, terrifying crimson pool. Unbelievable agony—far surpassing anything he had ever endured—hammered his central nervous system like a lightning bolt.

The world before Jason's eyes went pitch-black in a heartbeat. Leo's sobs sounded distant, echoing fuzzily in his ears.

"Jason... please wake up, Jason!" Leo screamed hysterically, scrambling closer and gripping Jason's jacket, which was now soaked through with his own blood.

Jason tried to hoist his head up, but the muscles in his neck refused to cooperate. His breathing grew shallow, short, and broken. His vision blurred, and a second later, the battle-hardened operative's frame went completely limp, collapsing helpless onto the cold factory cement floor, sprawled unconscious before a weeping, inconsolable Leo.

Across the floor, Commander Marcus, his lip bloodied, slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position with a heavy pant, wiping the stain from his mouth with a hand shaking from fury and the brutal tackle. The old man glared down hard at Jason's motionless body, then shifted his gaze toward Leo, who sat trembling in terror nearby.

"Get the kid and the laptop!" Marcus growled with a raspy voice burning with rage, shouting to the rest of his hit squad as they began sprinting in from the outer corridor. "And make sure that damn agent isn't breathing by the time this is over!"