Chapter 691:
The closeness between them worked to her advantage — or so she thought.
Verruckt’s instincts kicked in like a coiled spring. He darted back three sharp paces, his boots scraping the floor. “Oh? You’re really going to try this?”
His sneer oozed with arrogance. “Alright, then. Show me what you’ve got.”
He rolled his shoulders, as if testing the stretch of his muscles. It had been a while since he’d faced a worthy challenge, after all.
Allison seized the opportunity, swiftly retrieving her dagger.
In one fluid motion, she aimed a deadly arc at Verruckt’s neck.
Back then, when they were both test subjects, her skills had eclipsed his by miles. But time and uncertainty had whittled away her confidence. Could she still best him?
Her strike came swift and decisive, aimed with deadly precision — enough to cleave through the neck of a full-grown brown bear.
The room echoed with a sharp clang, metal biting against resistance.
Verruckt moved like a shadow, evading her dagger with a speed that blurred his outline.
He landed on the defensive, crouched but steady, blood trickling from a shallow cut along his arm.
Instead of panic, he smirked, licking the wound lazily. “Still sharp, aren’t you?” His red eyes sparked with a long-lost thrill. As the battle raged on, the heat in Verruckt’s body gradually returned.
Soon, he was visible in Allison’s thermal imaging glasses again. Verruckt was clearly aware of this, but he didn’t care at all. Instead, he casually continued launching attacks at Allison.
“You’re quite skilled, but some of your moves are off, like you’ve been out of practice.” He licked his lips, his voice breaking with battle lust.
This wasn’t just a fight — it was an awakening.
Ever since losing to subject 001 years ago, no one had triggered this cocktail of rage, hunger, and primal desire to kill in him. And it wasn’t just the urge to kill. There were other uncontrollable emotions mixed in. He wanted to see her face.
Allison sneered, oblivious to the man’s dark fantasies. “Let’s see who wins.”
But she knew he was right. Her three years with the Stevens family had indeed dulled her edge. While she still could easily handle ordinary assassins, Verruckt was a different beast entirely.
Blades clashed in a flurry of strikes and counters. Every movement was calculated, every blow aimed to kill.
Neither gained the upper hand — until Verruckt’s raw strength tipped the scales. With a brutal shove, he pinned her to the floor, his knee pressing into her ribs. “Miss Assassin,” he hissed, his breath warm and sharp against her ear. “This is where it ends.”noveldrama
.
.
.