Ultimate Choice System: I Became The Richest!

246  Executioner

The jungle was eerily silent, save for the distant hum of the helicopter above and the rustling of leaves in the night breeze.

Three assassins moved cautiously through the undergrowth, their steps silent but tense. They were professionals—hardened, trained killers who had survived missions that lesser men wouldn't even attempt. And yet… something felt off.

The air smelled of damp earth, gunpowder, and something else—blood.

The man at the front, known as Raze, raised a fist, signalling the others to halt. His sharp, predatory eyes scanned the darkness. His gut twisted.

Something was wrong.

Behind him, Corvus, a lean, sharp-featured man with piercing grey eyes, frowned. "What is it?" he whispered.

Raze didn't answer immediately. His hand instinctively gripped the rifle tighter.

The third assassin, Milo, the youngest of the group, crouched lower, his fingers brushing the hilt of his combat knife. He wasn't as experienced as the other two, but even he could sense it.

Something was off.

Raze exhaled slowly. He wasn't the type to spook easily. But right now? His instincts screamed at him.

"Something's not right," he murmured, scanning the area.

Then—his eyes landed on the first body.

A fellow assassin lay sprawled against a tree, his throat sliced cleanly. Blood had soaked into the earth beneath him, dark and glistening under the faint moonlight. His gun was still strapped to his chest—he hadn't even fired a single shot.

Milo inhaled sharply, barely catching himself from making a noise. "Shit…"

Raze's jaw clenched. His mind raced. "We lost contact with the other squads a few minutes ago." His voice was barely above a whisper. "At first, we thought it was interference. But this…?"

He turned his gaze toward Corvus. "This is something else."

Corvus remained calm, but his grip on his weapon tightened. His mind was already calculating. "Could be local forces."

Raze shook his head. "Not like this. Not this clean."

He crouched next to the corpse, inspecting the wound. His trained eyes picked up on something that made his stomach turn.

A single, perfect cut. No hesitation. No struggle.

The assassin hadn't even had the chance to fight back.

"This wasn't a gunfight," Raze murmured. "This was an execution."

Milo swallowed. "Who the hell are we up against?"

A snap of a twig.

The three men whipped around, guns raised—but there was nothing.

Just jungle. Just trees. Just shadows.

Milo's breathing turned shallow. His heart pounded.

Raze growled under his breath. "We need to move. Now."

Then—

Corvus took a step forward.

And his boot touched something solid.

A second body.

Face down, motionless, a bullet hole clean through the forehead.

A chill crept up Corvus's spine.

Then—he saw the third.

Another fallen assassin. Slumped against a rock, his face frozen in shock, his throat crushed. His gun lay useless beside him.

Three bodies.

No sign of struggle.

No sign of a firefight.

No warning.

Milo let out a shaky breath. "They didn't even have time to scream…"

Raze's mind was racing. He was one of the best in the business, had worked with the deadliest mercenaries on the planet. He knew how professionals killed.

This wasn't just professional.

This was predatory.

Milo, despite his training, looked spooked. "By who?"

Silence.

Then—

A voice cut through the darkness.

"By me."

Before they could react, Noah dropped from the trees.

His boots slammed onto Milo's back, sending the younger assassin crashing to the ground. Before he could even scream, Noah's arms wrapped around his throat—

CRACK.

A brutal, clean snap.

Milo went limp instantly.

Raze and Corvus moved fast, spinning toward the sound, rifles aimed—

Noah was already in motion.

Raze fired first. A burst of silenced gunfire tore through the night—but Noah was gone.

He moved like a ghost, weaving through the trees.

Corvus's instincts screamed at him. He's too fast.

Then—

Noah was there.

Up close. Too close.

His hand caught Raze's rifle, forcing the barrel up just as another round fired harmlessly into the sky.

In the same motion, Noah's knee drove into Raze's ribs—hard.

CRACK.

Raze's breath ripped from his lungs as his ribs fractured. He staggered back, eyes wide in pure shock.

Corvus moved to fire—

Noah spun, grabbing Raze's own knife from his belt—

SLASH.

A clean cut across Raze's throat.

Blood sprayed as Raze dropped, gasping silently, eyes filled with disbelief.

Two down.

One left.

Corvus knew he was dead.

But he wouldn't go down without a fight.

He lunged, a combat knife flashing in his grip—

Noah sidestepped effortlessly.

PFFT.

A silenced bullet punched through Corvus's hand, making him scream as the knife tumbled from his grip.

He staggered back, clutching his ruined hand.

BANG.

A shot to his left thigh.

Corvus hit the ground, writhing.

Noah approached, slow and deliberate. His boots crushed leaves underfoot, each step measured, methodical.

The assassin tried to crawl away, panting, his body trembling.

Noah knelt beside him, gripping his chin, forcing him to look at him.

"Who sent you?" Noah's voice was calm. Almost gentle.

Corvus clenched his jaw.

Noah exhaled through his nose.

Fine.

Advanced Memory Glance—Activated.

A sharp pulse ran through Noah's mind. Images. Memories. Thoughts.

And then—

He saw it.

A man.

Tall. Built like a warrior. Noah already knew that he was inside, he just needed to know which one it was. And, he did.

Noah's eyes sharpened. 'So… that's the leader.'

Corvus's vision blurred, pain consuming his senses. His body screamed from the bullet wounds, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His mind raced, desperately clinging to thoughts of survival. He had to think. He had to act.

But then—he saw it.

That shift in Noah's expression.

It wasn't shock. It wasn't confusion.

It was like a revelation.

Corvus felt his stomach drop.

Noah hadn't just guessed something.

He knew.

His eyes had sharpened, not with suspicion, but with certainty. Like he had seen the answer laid out in front of him. @@novelbin@@

What the hell—?

A sharp pulse of fear shot through Corvus's veins, stronger than any pain he was feeling.

He tried to rationalize it. Maybe Noah had seen something in his reaction. Maybe it was just a lucky guess.

But no.

This wasn't luck.

This wasn't instinct.

This was something else entirely.

Corvus had been in the assassination game for over a decade. He had seen things that most men wouldn't believe. He had heard whispers of prodigies, of unnatural killers, of monsters who weren't bound by human limits.

But he had never felt it firsthand.

Not until now.

Not until he looked into Noah's eyes and realized he was looking at something inhuman.

How?

How had he figured it out in an instant?

There was no way. No signs. No communication. Nothing.

And yet—Noah's body had already shifted, already preparing to move toward the estate.

Because he knew.

Corvus's blood ran ice cold.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears as terror wrapped around his spine like a vice.

His lips trembled, his breath shuddering out as his mind screamed at him—

He isn't normal.

No, that wasn't right.

He isn't human.

Corvus had killed men, had watched the life drain from their eyes, had stared into the abyss enough times to know what real killers looked like.

And yet, even in his worst nightmares, even in his darkest fears, he had never encountered something like this.

Noah wasn't just an assassin.

He wasn't just a soldier.

He was something beyond that.

Something unnatural.

Something unstoppable.

Corvus's fingers twitched, his body fighting against the inevitable, his brain still clawing for some way out, some answer—

Noah exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening slightly.

And then, he whispered the final words Corvus would ever hear.

"You were dead the moment you came here."

A choked noise escaped Corvus's throat.

A realization too vast, too horrifying settled in his mind in his final seconds.

He hadn't been a hunter tonight.

He had been prey.

BANG.

A clean shot.

His body jerked once.

Then—nothing.

The last thing Corvus saw was the cold, unshaken gaze of the man who had just rewritten his definition of fear.

And then—darkness.

Noah's Advanced Clairvoyance pulsed at the back of his mind, feeding him information in crisp, undeniable clarity.

Five hostiles inside.

Each one moving separately, sweeping through the estate in a one-man search formation—fast, methodical. They were trying to clear the area quickly, their movements sharp, calculated.

They knew something had gone wrong outside.

They didn't know how badly.

Noah's expression remained unreadable as he moved in.

His team had already reached the scientist.

Good.

That meant his only focus now was eliminating four targets before they could get too close.

No mistakes.

No delays.

The first assassin was moving through a dimly lit hallway, his silenced pistol raised, eyes scanning every inch of the space. His gloved fingers twitched on the trigger, his breath steady.

Clear the left wing. Secure the exits.

That was the last order he had received.

His boots barely made a sound on the polished floor, his back brushing against the wooden walls as he advanced.

He didn't know death was already behind him.

Noah moved like a ghost, his steps utterly silent. His eyes locked onto his target's every movement, calculating the exact moment to strike.

Three steps.

Two.

One.

Noah lunged, his arm wrapping around the assassin's throat in a vicious chokehold.

The man reacted instantly, his instincts honed, his elbow jerking backward in a desperate attempt to break free—

But Noah was stronger. Faster.

His other hand clamped over the assassin's mouth, muffling the struggle.

A sharp twist—

CRACK.

The body slumped.

Noah lowered him without a sound.

One down.

Four left.