Luciano walked down from the office, holding a note in his hand. He crouched down to the same level as Don Veneziale, who sat on the ground near the entrance while one of his lieutenants tended to his injured leg using a first aid kit from a nearby emergency container.
"Sir, Ms. Penthesilea mentioned that she will need a substantial cleanup crew and our cooperation to engage in discussions with the Syndicate Union for handling this situation. She has already deployed some soldiers to assist us in repelling the attackers, but she also informed us that the port is under attack and currently engaged in a battle," Luciano reported, reading from the note in his hand.
"Ms. Penthesilea!? The port is under attack, and she still sent her soldiers to help us? May God bless her," Don Veneziale responded with a smile. He knew that attacking the port required a significantly larger number of invaders and heavier weaponry than what had been used against his estate.
However, the Don also understood that attacking the port was a suicidal mission, regardless of the invaders' numbers. Even if they were an army, they would be reduced to target practice or minced meat upon assaulting the port.
The port's illusion array concealed various secrets, including the existence of magic, and anyone who entered the port area would witness its true nature. It meant that any invaders daring to attack the port were essentially digging their own graves, with no one capable of saving them from their imminent demise.
"Luciano," the Don called out to his Consigliere, his voice filled with determination. "Uncover the identity of the son of a bitch responsible for this attack. Find them and capture them alive, if possible. They dared to assault the port. I want Lord Magitek to personally pass judgment on them." The Don's words resonated with deep and chilling vengeance, sending shivers down Luciano's spine.
"Yes, Don. I will find them," Luciano affirmed, accepting the mission. He stood up and made his way out to assess the extent of the damage and assemble his team to help uncover the mastermind behind the audacious attack.
— 10 Minutes Before the attack at Veneziale Estate - Port Area —
It was nearly midnight at the port area. The market had closed down, and most of its employees had gone home to rest. Only a few night shift guards from various gangs, who were allies or on good terms with the Veneziale gang, remained. These guards were aware of the existence of the Curtained World, having spent nights here after closing important deals or simply choosing to rent apartments within the port for convenience.
Suddenly, the sound of vehicles racing through the streets reverberated within the port. Within moments, more than ten pickup trucks and armored vehicles crashed through the port's walls, coming to a halt inside.
The Invaders inside the trucks and armored vehicles were stunned by the sudden change in scenery. Instead of the large buildings and dry docks they were familiar with, they found themselves surrounded by a sprawling complex used for trading and auctioning various goods. The apartments and, most notably, the largest building at the back of the port, which concealed the entrance to Daniel's secret base, were nowhere to be seen.
The blaring siren of the alarm system echoed throughout the port, prompting the remaining gangsters to swiftly run towards the emergency bunker, following the drills that Daniel and Penthesilea had instilled in them. Those who were unable to respond or too drunked were dragged by their friends or passing gang members.
"What!? Why does the inside not match the outside at all?" One of the invaders exclaimed, taken aback by the grand trading complex before them, which contradicted their expectation of a bare-bones port area serving as a smuggling point and warehouses for the Veneziale gang.
Suddenly, one of the invaders felt a chill run down his spine. He looked around, sensing an impending danger that he couldn't quite pinpoint.
"I feel something strange. There's something approaching us, but we don't know what it is," he said cautiously, gripping his gun tightly.
"Don't jinx it! This place is damn eerie. Those gangsters and guards didn't even try to stop us; they just ran to hide in their holes," another invader remarked.
The invaders continued walking through the port, surveying their surroundings. The place appeared abandoned, with gangsters and guards retreating to their bunkers and various safe spots as per protocol.
"Hey, you know my instincts are usually correct, especially when something bad is about to happen," the jinxed invader began babbling, but most of the others ignored him. Only a few who knew him took heed and started to slow down, attempting to stay at the back as much as possible.
The rest of the invaders paid no mind to this, viewing it as an opportunity for themselves. They realized that these cowards would receive fewer rewards, allowing them to claim anything valuable as a bonus. Sokolov didn't mind them looting the place; in fact, he encouraged it, knowing it would create even more chaos. And for these individuals, most of them being the scummiest of the scum, they had the chance to plunder and get paid for it — who wouldn't want that!?
The atmosphere at the port grew increasingly eerie and ominous as the invaders ventured deeper into its depths. The once bustling and lively area now lay in desolation, shrouded in an unsettling silence. Not even the faintest whisper of wind could be heard, as if the very air held its breath.
Their footsteps echoed through the empty streets, the sound amplifying and reverberating against the decaying walls. Each step they took seemed to intensify the weight of their presence, as if disturbing an ancient slumber.
As they moved further, the sensation of being watched crept upon them, causing a chill to crawl up their spines. Their senses heightened, every sound, every shadow seemed to hold a hidden threat. The dimly lit street lamps flickered ominously, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls, distorting reality.
The jinxed man and his friend, overcome by an overwhelming sense of foreboding, decided to break away from the group. They sought refuge in the darkest corners they could find, seeking solace behind large trash bins or beneath the shelter of abandoned tables. They could no longer bear the weight of the unseen eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkness, their paranoia consuming them.
The atmosphere thickened with each passing moment, oppressive and suffocating. It felt as if time itself had slowed, as if the port held secrets and ancient whispers that yearned to be unveiled. The invaders found themselves questioning their decision to invade this forsaken place, their confidence waning with every step they took deeper into the unknown.
Tap… Tap… Tap… Tap…
The sound of footsteps echoed through the eerie silence, sending a shiver down the spines of the invaders. Startled at the sudden and unknown presence, they immediately raised their guns, aiming in the direction of the sound.
A lone woman emerged from the shadows, her blonde hair tied up in a long braid. She wore a green suit over a brown leather vest, with a black shirt and pants. Her attire exuded both intimidation and elegance. Her face possessed a striking beauty, with androgynous features that could have easily been mistaken for that of a handsome young man, if not for her ample chest that strained against her shirt and vest, revealing her femininity.
What made her presence even more unsettling was the fact that she walked alone, a golden-red short spear held firmly in her hand, and a small buckler strapped to her left arm. Her posture and weaponry conveyed an aura of defiance, indicating that she had not come here to surrender or negotiate. Quite the opposite, it seemed.
The invaders hesitated, their guns still trained on her, uncertainty etched across their faces. Who was this enigmatic woman, and what purpose did she serve in this desolate place? The tension in the air grew thicker, as if awaiting the inevitable clash between unknown forces.
However, amidst the group of invaders, there was one who couldn't resist the urge to voice his vulgar thoughts.
"Well, well, well... look who's here, a hot chick wielding a spear! Haven't you heard the phrase about not bringing a knife to a gunfight? The same applies to spears, babe. Although, if you strip naked and lie down with your legs wide open, maybe I'll consider letting you go," he jeered, a disgusting smirk on his face.
Penthesilea, unfazed by his crude remarks, let out a disdainful snort. "Heh... 3000 years have passed, and the minds of scummy men remain unchanged," she muttered in reminiscence, her thoughts drifting back to the Trojan War and the indignities she suffered at the hands of Achilles after their fateful battle.
The woman before them was none other than Penthesilea, the Warrior Queen of the Amazons. Her gaze swept over the invaders, her eyes filled with a mix of superiority and battle-hardened experience.
"I'll be brief. Amongst you, who are the mages?" Penthesilea inquired, dismissing the invaders' provocations. In her eyes, they were nothing more than walking corpses. She merely sought to gauge their capabilities before deciding on her course of action. However, based on their appearances alone, it seemed she may have overestimated this group.
Updated from fr𝒆ewebnov𝒆l.(c)om