Rebirth Of The Tycoon: I Shall Dominate The World

The drive to the address Selena provided felt like walking into the lion's den. The city lights faded in the rearview mirror, replaced by dark, winding roads cloaked in a mist that swallowed everything in its path. The moon hung low, casting an eerie silver glow over the desolate countryside.

Hathor's voice cut through the silence in my mind, sharp and deliberate.

"Be vigilant, Horus. This reeks of a trap."

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my pulse steady. "Let them try," I muttered under my breath, stealing a glance at the knife strapped to my belt. "I'll show them who they're messing with."

At the end of a gravel road, the house loomed before me, a two-story relic of decay. Its sagging roof and boarded-up windows whispered of abandonment, but the fleet of black SUVs parked out front told a different story.

As I stepped out of my car, I noticed them—six men scattered across the yard, their sharp suits a mockery of the grimy surroundings. They were armed, their postures tense yet confident, like wolves surrounding their prey.

The man leaning against one of the SUVs straightened, his smirk cutting through the chilly air. "William Right," he drawled, his voice dripping with contempt. "You should've stayed out of this."

I said nothing, but my instincts screamed danger. Just as I took a step forward, a familiar voice rang in my head.

"Incoming mission: Clear the area. Condition: Take down every hostile and enter the house. Reward: Hidden. Time-based bonus: Activated."

A translucent timer appeared in my mind: 5:00.

I smirked, rolling my shoulders to loosen up. "Guess it's my lucky day."

The first man charged at me with a baton, his movements aggressive but predictable. I sidestepped his swing with ease, catching his wrist and twisting until I heard the sickening crack of bone. His scream was short-lived as I spun him around and slammed him face-first into the SUV, leaving a dent in the door.

The others sprang into action, drawing weapons—knives, batons, and one with a stun gun that crackled ominously in the night.

A second attacker lunged at me from the left, his knife aimed at my ribs. I pivoted, grabbing his wrist mid-strike and flipping him over my shoulder. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could recover, I stomped on his wrist, forcing him to release the blade.

The sound of rapid footsteps alerted me to two more closing in from behind. I turned just in time to duck under a baton swing, delivering a swift elbow to the attacker's stomach. As he doubled over, I spun and landed a roundhouse kick to the second man's chest, sending him sprawling into the side of the house.

"Three down, three to go," Hathor noted, her tone laced with approval.

The leader of the group clapped slowly, his grin as sharp as the blade he twirled in his hand. "Not bad," he said, his eyes narrowing. "But let's see how you handle this."

He snapped his fingers, and the two remaining men drew pistols. My heart skipped a beat, but Hathor's voice sliced through my panic.

"Use your surroundings, Horus. Stay sharp."

I grabbed the fallen baton and hurled it at the nearest gunman. It struck his wrist, and the pistol clattered to the ground. Before he could react, I closed the gap with a burst of speed, landing a devastating uppercut that left him unconscious.

The final gunman raised his weapon, but I was already moving. A discarded metal trash can lid caught my eye, and I snatched it up, using it as a makeshift shield as I charged. The gunman fired, the bullet ricocheting off the lid with a deafening clang.

Before he could fire again, I swung the lid with all my strength, the edge connecting with his jaw. He crumpled to the ground, out cold.

The leader didn't flinch as I turned to face him. Instead, he rolled his shoulders and unsheathed a second blade, both glinting wickedly under the moonlight.

"You think you've won?" he sneered, his voice a low growl. "I've been waiting for this."

He moved like a predator, his strikes fast and precise. The first blade came at me in a wide arc, the second following in a tight thrust. I dodged the first and blocked the second with my forearm, the impact sending a jolt through my body.

"Careful, Horus. He's skilled," Hathor warned.

I didn't need the reminder. Each attack pushed me to my limits, but I waited, watching his movements, looking for a pattern.

Finally, he overextended, his blade slicing through empty air. I seized the opening, catching his wrist and twisting until he dropped the weapon. With a quick step forward, I delivered a brutal knee to his gut, followed by an elbow to the back of his neck.

He hit the ground hard, groaning in pain.

"Time remaining: 42 seconds. Mission: Complete."

As I stepped over the unconscious bodies toward the house, Hathor's voice rang in my head.

"Mission reward unlocked."

A golden glow enveloped me, warmth flooding my veins.

"Reward: Enhanced reflexes and strength for the next 24 hours.

 Additional bonus: Increased stamina for exceeding time expectations."

I clenched my fists, feeling the newfound power coursing through me.

The front door creaked open under my touch, revealing a dimly lit interior. The air was thick with the smell of mildew and dust. A single lamp cast a weak glow over the living room, where a man sat slumped in an old armchair.

He looked up as I approached, his features sharp and familiar. The resemblance to Cassandra was unmistakable.

"So, you're William," he said, his voice calm but laced with bitterness.

"And you must be Cassandra's brother," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.

He nodded, leaning forward. "If you're here, it means you want to bring her down. But if you think that's going to be easy, you're wrong."

"I didn't come here for easy," I said, my eyes narrowing.

He smirked. "Good. Because she's not just my sister—she's my enemy too."

For the first time in days, I felt a glimmer of hope. I wasn't alone in this fight anymore.

"Then let's get started."

The man in the chair shifted, his sharp gaze dissecting me as though he were searching for cracks in my armor. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and extended a hand.

"I'm Callum," he said. "Callum Sinclair."

The name sent a jolt through me. The Sinclair family was notorious in the underworld, their influence far-reaching and formidable. Cassandra had hidden her connections well.

"You're her brother," I stated, my voice low, fists still clenched.

Callum chuckled dryly, devoid of humor. "Her older brother, actually. Though that's a title I'd gladly trade to be free from her shadow."

I studied him, trying to reconcile the calculating man before me with Cassandra's enigmatic and ruthless nature.

"Why are you here?" I demanded.

Callum exhaled heavily, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Because Cassandra wasn't always like this. She used to be… normal. Then she got involved with the Syndicate." His voice hardened. "She rose through the ranks faster than anyone expected, but it changed her. She's not just a puppet of the Syndicate anymore—she's pulling the strings."

I leaned back, processing the revelation. Cassandra wasn't just a piece on the board; she was orchestrating the moves.

"Where is she now?" I demanded, my voice sharper than intended.

Callum's eyes narrowed. "She's holed up in a fortress masquerading as a luxury estate on the outskirts of the city. But don't think for a second you can just walk in there."

Before he could elaborate, the sound of shattering glass and heavy boots slamming against the front door interrupted him.

The door burst open with a deafening crash, and another team of Cassandra's men poured into the room. These weren't the same lackeys I'd taken down outside. Their tactical gear and precision movements marked them as elite operatives.

Callum's face darkened. "She doesn't waste time, does she?"

"Stay down," I ordered, stepping in front of him instinctively.

The system's voice echoed in my mind:

"Hidden Mission Activated: Eliminate all hostiles and escort Callum Sinclair to safety. Reward: Enhanced combat skills for 12 hours. Time-based bonus: Activated."

A timer appeared in my vision, counting down from 7:00.

One of the operatives stepped forward, his assault rifle aimed at me. "Stand down, William," he barked. "You've already lost."

"Not today," I growled, muscles tensing as the system's reward flooded my veins with renewed strength and precision.

The first operative opened fire, but I was already moving. Enhanced reflexes kicked in, and I dove behind an overturned coffee table as bullets shredded the air where I'd stood.

Grabbing a lamp from the floor, I hurled it at the gunman. The heavy base connected with his face, knocking him unconscious.

Two more operatives flanked me, one swinging a baton while the other aimed a pistol. I parried the baton strike with a quick block, then used the momentum to spin and drive my elbow into his jaw. He staggered, and I disarmed him with a sharp twist of his wrist before using the baton to knock the pistol from the second man's hand.

"William!" Callum shouted. "Behind you!"

I turned just in time to see an operative aiming a stun gun at me. Without thinking, I grabbed the nearest chair and threw it with all my strength. It collided with him, sending him crashing into the wall.

The remaining operatives regrouped, their leader barking orders. Two of them pulled out smoke grenades, tossing them into the room. Thick, choking clouds enveloped the space, reducing visibility to almost nothing.

"Use it to your advantage," Hathor urged.

I closed my eyes, letting heightened senses guide me. The sound of boots crunching on broken glass gave away their positions.

One came too close, and I struck fast, sweeping his legs out from under him before delivering a knockout blow to his temple. Another approached from behind, but I spun and slammed the baton into his ribs, feeling the satisfying crack of bone.

In the chaos, Callum scrambled toward the kitchen, shouting, "I've got an exit route!"

"Go!" I yelled, taking down another operative with a sharp kick to the knee followed by an uppercut.

Callum led me through the kitchen and out the back door, where a black motorcycle was hidden under a tarp.

"You're full of surprises," I said, tossing him a helmet.

He smirked despite the situation. "It's a Sinclair specialty."

The remaining operatives burst through the back door, firing wildly as we mounted the bike. Callum revved the engine, and we sped off into the night, bullets ricocheting off the ground behind us.

The system's voice chimed in my head:

"Mission Complete. Reward Unlocked: Advanced tactical training permanently added to skill set."

I gripped Callum's shoulder as the wind whipped past us. "You'd better hope this 'safe place' of yours lives up to the name."

Callum glanced back at me, his expression grim. "It's not the place you should worry about. It's what's coming next."