MTLNOVEL Chapter 26: Chapter 26: Into The Shadows
The motorcycle roared as we sped through the winding forest roads, the city lights fading into the distance behind us. Each twist and turn felt effortless, my hands gripping the handlebars with the precision of someone who had spent years mastering such maneuvers. But in this moment of quiet adrenaline, my mind was still racing.
How had I, trapped in the body of a 15-year-old, been able to ride like this? It wasn't instinct—it was skill, a muscle memory I shouldn't have in this body.
Back when I was still myself—before the system ripped me out of my old life and place me into my teenage shell—I used to be in a biker gang in college. Motorcycles were our tools of fun. I'd spent years training on them, mastering the art of high-speed chases and evasive maneuvers.
When the system placed me in this young body, it hadn't just transferred my mind—it had synchronized my old abilities with the new frame. My reflexes were sharper, my instincts quicker, and even though this body was younger, it carried the potential of a professional.
The roar of the engine grounded me back to the moment. Callum's grip tightened as the path narrowed, forcing me to focus on the road ahead.
The cabin stood hidden in the heart of the forest, a modest wooden structure surrounded by dense foliage. As we pulled up, Callum dismounted quickly, glancing over his shoulder to ensure we hadn't been followed.
"Not bad for a teenager," he muttered, eyeing me with a mixture of suspicion and amusement.
"Let's just say I've had practice," I replied, cutting the engine and stepping off the bike.
Callum didn't press further, instead leading me inside. The cabin was small but well-maintained, with a living room cluttered with maps and documents, a modest kitchen, and a hallway leading to what I assumed were the bedrooms.
He motioned for me to sit on the worn sofa while he poured himself a drink. "We've got a lot to talk about," he said, handing me a glass of water.
"Let's start simple," I said, leaning forward. "What is the Syndicate, and how does Cassandra fit into all this?"
Callum exhaled sharply, his expression darkening. "The Syndicate is… everything. It's not just one organization; it's a network of criminal empires spanning continents. Drug trafficking, arms dealing, human smuggling—you name it, they control it."
"And Cassandra?" I prompted.
He took a sip of his drink, his grip tightening around the glass. "Cassandra Sinclair wasn't always the leader. She started as a strategist—a damn good one. She worked under the previous boss, a man named Victor Kane, who ruled the Syndicate with an iron fist. But Cassandra was ambitious. She didn't just want to serve the Syndicate; she wanted to own it."
Callum began pacing, his voice growing heavier with each word. "Five years ago, she staged a coup. Kane trusted her, and she used that trust to gather allies from within. One night, she struck—clean, precise, and merciless. Kane and his inner circle were wiped out, and by morning, Cassandra was in charge. No one dared to challenge her after that."
I frowned, leaning back on the sofa. "So she's more than just a figurehead. She's tactical, ruthless."
"Exactly," Callum said, sitting back down. "She's not just dangerous because of her power—she's dangerous because she knows how to use it. She's built the Syndicate into something unstoppable, something that controls governments and economies from the shadows."
"And why is she after me?" I asked.
Callum hesitated, his eyes narrowing. "I've been trying to figure that out. The Syndicate doesn't usually waste time on personal vendettas. But Cassandra—she's different. She's obsessed with control. You defied her, embarrassed her. That alone is enough for her to want you dead."
I clenched my fists. "Then we take the fight to her. No more running."
Callum nodded slowly. "That's the only way. But it won't be easy. Cassandra rarely leaves her estate, and it's fortified like a military base. If we want to draw her out, we'll need to make her think you're a bigger threat than you actually are."
"How do we do that?" I asked.
He smirked. "We spread false intel. Make her believe you're planning something huge—something she can't ignore. She'll come to you, and when she does, we'll be ready."
"And her men?"
"They're loyal to her because they fear her. But if we can take her down, the Syndicate will collapse. Without Cassandra, there is no Syndicate."
The system's voice interrupted our conversation:
"New Mission Activated: Plan and execute the downfall of Cassandra Sinclair. Objectives: Lure Cassandra out, neutralize her forces, and dismantle the Syndicate. Reward: Unlock full potential of Hathor's combat abilities. Mission Timer: 96:00:00."
A glowing countdown appeared in my vision, each second ticking away like a war drum.
"No pressure," I muttered.
Callum raised an eyebrow but said nothing, instead clapping me on the shoulder. "Get some rest. We'll need every ounce of strength for what's coming."
As I settled onto the worn sofa, one thought kept repeating in my mind.
Cassandra wasn't just a target—she was my reckoning.
The first rays of dawn filtered through the dense canopy outside, casting faint streaks of light into the cabin. I hadn't slept much. The countdown from the system burned in the back of my mind like a ticking bomb. Callum emerged from the kitchen, holding two steaming cups of coffee.
"You look like hell," he remarked, setting one cup in front of me.
"I've been better," I replied, taking a sip. The bitter liquid jolted my senses. "What's the first step?"
Callum pulled out a map and spread it across the coffee table. It was riddled with red pins and scribbled notes, outlining what looked like Cassandra's operations.
"We need to hit her where it hurts," Callum began, pointing to several locations. "These are her key operations. Drug warehouses, money-laundering hubs, and weapon caches. Destroying these won't cripple her completely, but it'll force her to act. She hates losing control."
"And what about her estate?" I asked.
Callum frowned. "It's a fortress. She rarely leaves, and when she does, she's surrounded by her elite guards. We can't take it head-on. But if we rattle her enough, we can lure her out."
"Bait," I said, nodding. "What's the plan for that?"
"We'll spread false intel," he explained. "Cassandra's paranoid, and she has eyes everywhere. We leak information that you're working with a rival syndicate planning to overthrow her. She won't ignore that."
As he spoke, I studied the map, my mind racing. The system's countdown loomed over me, but instead of fear, I felt resolve.
"Do you even know how to shoot?" Callum asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm better than you think," I said with a smirk. "The system hasn't just given me a second chance—it's enhanced everything I was trained for in my past life."
In my previous life, I was always being targeted by rival companies since they knew that I'm the strategist that leads the company to its fame. I would always have bodyguards with me because there isn't one week that I didn't get attacked by a gun-for-hired. This got me annoyed to the point where I had to learn how to use a gun to protect myself without needing anyone helps. Fortunately, I was skilled at it and learned it quicker than others. All of the bodyguards found this shocking when they sees me in action during one of the attacks!
Callum didn't look convinced. "Prove it."
He led me to a shed behind the cabin, unlocking the door to reveal an arsenal that could arm a small militia. Pistols, assault rifles, grenades—it was all there.
"This is… excessive," I muttered, picking up a sleek black handgun.
"You can never be too prepared," Callum replied. "Let's see if you can still shoot like you claim."
He set up a makeshift shooting range using empty cans and bottles. As soon as I raised the gun, my body moved on its own, muscle memory kicking in. One by one, the targets disappeared in rapid succession.
Callum whistled low. "Alright, maybe you're not all talk."
"This is just the start," I said, holstering the weapon. "We've got a lot of ground to cover."
Miles away, in the heart of her sprawling estate, Cassandra Sinclair sat in her private study. The room was a stark contrast to her icy demeanor, filled with rare books and antique furniture. But her focus wasn't on her surroundings—it was on the holographic screen projected before her.
Reports from her network streamed in, detailing the destruction of one of her key drug warehouses. Her eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint sparking in the cold blue depths.
"Who's responsible?" she asked, her voice low and lethal.
One of her lieutenants, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, stepped forward. "We're still investigating, but there are rumors… the boy is involved."
Cassandra's lips curled into a humorless smile. "The boy. He's becoming quite the nuisance."
"He's just a child," the lieutenant scoffed. "We'll take care of him—"
Cassandra cut him off with a sharp glare. "He's more than just a child. Underestimating him is what got you all into this mess. I don't care how you do it, but find him. And when you do, bring him to me alive."
The lieutenant hesitated, then nodded and left the room.
Cassandra leaned back in her chair, her fingers steepled under her chin. "You've forced my hand, William," she murmured. "Let's see how far you're willing to go."
Back at the cabin, Callum and I finalized our plan. The first step was to hit two more of Cassandra's key locations—a money-laundering hub in the city and an arms depot hidden in an abandoned factory.
"This will spread her forces thin," Callum explained. "She'll think you're building alliances and preparing for a larger strike."
"And when she comes for me?" I asked.
"We'll be ready," he said.
We spent the next few days preparing. I honed my combat skills, familiarizing myself with the weapons and equipment Callum had stashed away. The system provided additional guidance, enhancing my reflexes and giving me an edge in hand-to-hand combat.
During one of our breaks, I couldn't help but ask, "What is this place, anyway? Why do you have all of this?"
Callum hesitated, then sighed. "This was my contingency plan. When I left the Syndicate, I knew they'd come after me eventually. This cabin is off the grid, untraceable. The weapons? Insurance."
"And the maps? The intel?"
"I've been tracking Cassandra ever since she took over," he admitted. "Not to stop her—I wasn't brave enough for that. But I wanted to know what I was running from."
I nodded, understanding his caution. But now, it wasn't just about running. It was about ending this once and for all.
By the time we set the plan in motion, the system's countdown had reached 72 hours. Callum planted the false intel, spreading rumors through his old contacts in the Syndicate.
Within hours, we received confirmation: Cassandra was mobilizing her forces.
"She's taking the bait," Callum said, his tone a mix of excitement and dread.
"Good," I replied, checking my gear. "Let her come. This ends with her."
As we geared up for the final confrontation, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Cassandra was dangerous, yes—but she was also just one piece of a much larger puzzle.
And I was ready to solve