The parlour erupted into chaos. Guns were drawn instantly, but the enclosed space worked against the cultists. They couldn't fire recklessly without hitting their own men.
Tejumole whipped out of her seat, releasing Jubril from her hold.
Nuhu remained seated five feet away, flanked by two bodyguards. This left Tejumole fighting off the remaining ten. He watched the scene with amusement. It was as if he were watching a theater performance rather than a life-or-death struggle.
Tejumole moved with a practiced agility, nimbly twisting her body to avoid a grab from one man while dipping low to dodge the bullets whistling past. She lunged for an armed cultist nearby, but her fingers brushed his sleeve, causing her to miss him narrowly.
'They're fast.' She soon realized the men were keeping their distance, having seen what she did to Jubril. They had since abandoned the idea of fighting her at close quarters.
'Cautious bunch.' She thought. She recognized that although they were simple cultists, having Nuhu as a leader had made them sharp enough to adopt more favorable strategies.
In response, she shifted her own approach, finally taking the encounter seriously. She had intended to snatch a weapon and disarm them all by shooting their hands. However, they were using the tables and chairs for cover and firing from a distance, making things more complicated.
She soon spotted Jubril through the chaos. He was flat on his belly, desperately crawling toward a corner to avoid stray rounds.
With a sudden stride, Tejumole reached down, hoisted him up, and shoved him in front of her. With her back to a wall and her sides clear, she now had a screaming, terrified human shield.
It was then that Nuhu spoke, his voice cutting through the acrid smell of gunpowder.
"Professor, this is no way for a guest to behave. What is this behaviour in my own house? I was so cordial with you, but you chose to attack first. That's why we have to defend ourselves."
He spoke with an air of wounded innocence, as if he hadn't been the one to give the order to "take her."
"Oh, don't be foolish. I have no reason to be cordial with kidnappers." Tejumole replied curtly, her annoyance finally beginning to build.
She knew the System prioritized secrecy.
Outside of a formal mission area, where zero witnesses were guaranteed, using human-defying abilities like Lucid Fantasm or Teleportation came with a heavy price: EXP deductions and a permanent drain on her physical and skill attributes. Even the Justice points that were so hard to earn would take a dip. She could use the skills, but the price to pay wasn't worth it.
Still, she didn't need them now. Her base strength and agility, honed through training and daily quests, were more than enough.
At her words, Nuhu's smile finally faltered. He had explicitly stated he did not tolerate disrespect, but she hadn't shown him face.
Sensing his rising anger, Tejumole leaned into the taunt, her voice dripping with disdain.
"You are just a bunch of lowlife cowards who hide behind guns and threats to terrorize people. Your pitiful organization only exists because no one can be bothered to take you seriously. Do you truly think you're so mysterious? What a joke. Wasting your time playing cultist is humiliating. You should be ashamed."
Tejumole tittered, finally feeling her anger recede a bit.
She dragged Jubril around like a weightless ragdoll. The man was screaming and cursing so loudly that it almost drowned out the sound of gunshots.
In a fit of irritation, Tejumole delivered a sharp blow that knocked him unconscious.
The air was thick with the stench of spent rounds and Tejumole began making her way toward Nuhu.
She had already taken out five men. Seven remained. The two guarding Nuhu, who hadn't moved yet, finally raised their weapons.
Her insults had pushed Nuhu past his breaking point. He was usually a patient person; or at least that's what he told himself.
He erupted into dark laughter, stood up, and drew his own weapon. It was a customized red and black gun that was both chilling and sophisticated.
Nuhu locked his eyes on her.
He was an excellent marksman. Unlike the others, his shots were eerily accurate, forcing Tejumole to move at her absolute limit to avoid being hit in the cramped space.
Cornered, she couldn't drop the unconscious Jubril yet. The guards didn't seem to care about not hitting him anymore. She had even had to save him from being shot a few times.
She quickened her pace, closing the gap and dispatching two more guards with rapid strikes that left them slumped on the floor. Five left. Fortunately, she soon saw her opening.
In one swift motion, Tejumole tossed Jubril's limp body into the air toward the guards. In that split second of hesitation, she snatched another fallen weapon and fired two clean shots into the hands of Nuhu's bodyguards. They howled in pain and their weapons clattered to the floor.
She leapt toward Nuhu after getting close.
Crack.
A bullet from Nuhu's gun tore into her right arm and another went through her thigh. It was fired by one of the remaining three men.
Tejumole sucked in a sharp, hissed breath as the bullet lodged into her muscles, but she couldn't stop.
She tackled him, spinning her body around his until her legs were wrapped around his torso from the back. He tried breaking away by pressing the wounded part of her thigh.
Bending backward, her hands gripped the top of his chair. Using it as a support, she did an urgent flip with Nuhu wrapped tightly in her hold. By the time they collided with the floor violently, he had been disarmed.
Tejumole scrambled up instantly, pinning him down. She held his gun and pressed the barrel hard against his temple.
"Drop your guns. Now." she ordered.
Her hair was a mess. Her clothes were ruffled and dirtied. Blood flowed steadily down her right arm and left thigh, soaking into the fabric, but her gaze was steady and lethal.
"Fascinating," Nuhu whispered, staring up at her. Despite being on his knees, despite the gun to his head and the lingering anger from her insults, his eyes burned with a terrifying level of intrigue.
The remaining men stood frozen. Eventually, terror overcame them and Tejumole saw they were about to fire.
[Activate Skill: Enforcer's Tongue]
"Drop your guns. Now." she repeated.
Her voice carried an unnatural weight that pressured them. The men's eyes glazed over, their expressions slipping into a soulless daze. Their fingers uncurled and the guns fell from their grips.
"Sleep." She whispered, directing the skill at Nuhu.
His head fell back as he lost consciousness. She turned her attention to the rest.
"All of you... sleep."
She was careful to put Nuhu under first to keep him from suspecting something unnatural.
The room finally fell silent. She could finally relax.
Tejumole's focus immediately shifted to the sharp, throbbing pain in her limbs. Every movement spread a fresh jolt of pain through her body. This was why she disliked confrontations where her skills were restricted by the system.
She checked her profile and saw her vitality flickering between yellow and green. She was still in the clear and hadn't lost too much blood. After using a bandage as a tourniquet, she brought out the mirror from the Infinite Void Ring.
[System Item: Mirror, Mirror]
She held the mirror over Nuhu, letting it absorb a drop of her blood. The silver spiral within began to spin and fragments of Nuhu's memory began to surface.
Unlike Anderson Peters, whose reflection only replayed his last four hours because he was dead, she could now watch Nuhu's memories related to the mission.
She first saw a grand, rowdy space. It was like a hybrid of a club and a professional theatre. Then it showed Nuhu standing in the shadows of a balcony, watching a performance. It showed him arguing with a woman holding a folding fan and then him being dragged into what looked like a back alley. She wasn't sure which of these events preceded which.
However, Tejumole could finally breathe a sigh of relief after seeing a a string of letters appear. True Maiden.
Almost instantly she heard the system's notification.
[Connect the Dots — Progress Update]
Stage Found: True Maiden.
Congratulations, Host. You have identified the den. The host can now acquire the necessary skills needed for the mission. Find the important individuals that form the foundation.
Time Remaining: 9 Days.]
Along with this chime, Tejumole noticed five skills the system had prepared for the mission. However, as she read through the list a seed of worry sprouted in her mind.