"Attack and unmask him," Theo echoed. The command snapped the room into motion.
Steel flashed. Boots scraped against the floor as the men surged forward at once. Newton didn't step back. He moved. His blade cut through the air in a sharp arc.
The first attacker didn't even finish his step before Newton's sword met him. The strike was fast. Brutal. The man dropped with a choked gasp. Another came from the side. Newton turned. Their swords clashed.
A sharp metallic ring echoed through the room. Sparks flickered for a split second as the blades scraped against each other. Newton pushed forward. His movement was tight. Controlled.
He slipped past the guard and drove his blade into the man's side. A third attacker rushed in. Newton spun. The blade caught him across the arm.
He cried out and stumbled back. The room filled with the sound of steel hitting steel. Short breaths.
Footsteps shifting quickly. Newton didn't slow down. He moved through them like he had trained for this moment.
Every strike was deliberate. Every movement was efficient.
Another man went down. Then another. Theo stood near the door, watching. His eyes narrowed slightly. The assassin's movements were not wild. Not desperate. They were precise. Too precise. Almost too coordinated to be one of the students.
Theo's jaw tightened. Then he moved. He stepped forward without a sound. Newton had just finished pushing back another attacker when Theo struck.
The blade came from behind. Fast, and clean.
Newton didn't see it coming. The sword tore into his shoulder. "Aaahhhhh!" The scream ripped out of him before he could stop it.
Pain exploded through his body. His grip on the sword faltered for a split second. His vision blurred. The room tilted. But the attack didn't stop. Another blade swung toward him.
Newton forced himself to move. He staggered to the side. The sword missed his chest by inches.
Theo stepped forward again. His face was calm, and focused. He raised his blade once more and brought it down.
Newton reacted at the last second. He twisted his body. The strike cut through the air where his neck had been a moment ago.
Newton stumbled back. His breathing turned ragged. His shoulder burned..Warm blood ran down his arm..He tightened his grip on the sword. Facing them like he felt it clearly now.
Death.
"Facing them is suicide," he told himself. Another strike came.
Newton barely dodged it. His back hit the wall. He pushed himself forward again. "I have to escape from here."
Another blade sliced toward him. He ducked. The sword passed over his head. Newton lifted his own blade. But this time, he didn't aim for any of them. He turned sharply and struck the wall. The light switch shattered under the impact.
The room plunged into darkness. Instantly. The sudden blackness swallowed everything.
Voices rose. "Where is he?!"
"Watch out!"
They stumbled. Disoriented. But Newton stood still for a moment. His breathing was heavy. His eyes adjusted quickly.
The darkness returned to him like an old friend. He gritted his teeth. "I will finish off Theo and leave." He took a step forward. But the moment he moved, the pain exploded again.
"Ahhhhhh!"
The sound slipped out of him. Low, and ragged. His shoulder throbbed violently.
Warm blood continued to pour down his arm. His strength was slipping.
Newton froze. He understood immediately. He could not finish this. Not like this. Not anymore. Slowly, carefully, he turned toward the door.
Each step was controlled. Measured. He forced his breathing to stay low. The men in the room still stumbled in the darkness.
Their swords swung in the empty air. Newton reached the door. His hand found the handle. He opened it slowly.
No sound.
Then he slipped out. The corridor welcomed him with silence. He moved quickly now. But not too quickly. Blood dripped from his arm onto the floor.
Behind him, inside the room, voices grew louder. "He walked out," Franklin echoed.
Footsteps rushed toward the door. They spilled into the corridor. Lights flickered back on.
Theo stepped out last. His eyes scanned the floor. Then he slowed. A smile crept onto his lips. There it was.
Drops of blood.
Dark against the floor. Theo's smile widened. "He didn't leave without a trace," he announced. The others gathered around him. Their eyes followed his gaze.
Down.
To the floor. The blood trail stretched along the corridor. "Wow," Kendrick breathed. "His blood will lead us to him."
They began moving. Following the trail.bStep by step. The droplets guided them forward. Turn by turn. The tension tightened. Their footsteps echoed louder in the hallway.
But then, the trail stopped.
Just like that. No more drops. No direction. Only clean floor. They slowed. Confused. Theo's smile faded slightly. They looked around. Doors on both sides.
Too many.
No clear answer. The trail had vanished. They stood there, lost in the middle of the passage. No clue which room the assassin had entered.
Meanwhile, Newton stumbled into his room. He pushed the door shut behind him and leaned against it for a moment. His breathing came in sharp bursts.
Pain pulsed through his shoulder. He moved quickly. He had no time. Samuel still slept on his bed. Newton crossed the room and dropped to his knees.
He pulled off the face wrap. The cloth fell to the floor. Then the Ninja attire followed. His hands moved fast. But not steady.
He grabbed a piece of cloth and pressed it against the wound. Pain shot through him instantly.
"Ahhh!"
The groan slipped out. He clenched his teeth, trying to suppress it. Blood soaked into the cloth. He tightened it around his shoulder. His hands trembled. Another wave of pain hit.
"Ahhh…"
He tried to keep quiet. Tried to breathe through it. But the sound had already escaped. Behind him, Samuel stirred. He shifted once. Then again. His eyes opened. He sat up suddenly. His gaze landed on Newton.
On the blood. On the cloth.
Samuel froze.
"Newton!" he called. His voice filled the room. "Is that you?"
Newton nodded weakly. His head dropped slightly. His breathing was loud, and uneven.
Samuel swung his legs off the bed and stood. He stepped closer. "What is wrong with you?"
Newton didn't answer. Samuel moved closer. Then he saw it. The wound.
Deep, and bleeding.
And then, his eyes dropped to the floor. The Ninja attire. The black cloth. The mask.
Samuel's expression changed slowly. Understanding crept in. His chest rose. Then fell. His eyes lifted back to Newton. "You are the assassin?"
Newton gave a small nod. It wasn't confident. It wasn't reassuring. Just a nod.
Samuel didn't like it. Not one bit. He shifted where he stood, his hands hovering for a second like he didn't know whether to touch the wound or shake Newton for being reckless.
"What were you thinking?" The words came out sharper than he intended. His eyes moved over the injury again. Fresh, and ugly. Still bleeding.
"What if they had killed you?" Newton tried to grin. It didn't come out right. There was a flicker of pain in it, something tight at the corner of his lips that gave him away. "I'm still here, aren't I?"
His voice was low, and dry.