"Damn it! Who is attacking me?!"
Ethan cursed loudly, his eyes darting in all directions, sharp with caution.
Just moments ago, he had felt nothing but a faint breeze. No killing intent, no energy ripple, no movement. And yet, he had been struck.
Lycaon's words suddenly resurfaced in his mind—the warnings of ghost-like assassins.
Could it be… that the so-called ghost assassins were real after all?
If so, then everything suddenly made sense.
Still, Ethan forced himself to remain calm. If those assassins were truly ghosts, then they were not invincible. After all, he had managed to sense the faint breeze. His perception had caught something, however small. That meant he still had a chance.
The thought steadied him. He allowed himself a slow breath.
But while Ethan found some reassurance, the mercenaries of the Manhattan Legion were not so fortunate.
The Elemental Assassins had begun their work.
