Chương 293: Chapter : 293

The elevator doors opened onto the executive floor, and they stepped out into a very different reception than yesterday. The Vice Director had clearly been busy. The entire executive lobby had been transformed into a battlefield. Silent alarms had been triggered. The Benjamin Group's "top dogs" were already waiting. A massive squad of heavily augmented corporate mercenaries flooded the executive lobby from every corridor, displaying a terrifying array of advanced, high-tech magical powers.

There were at least thirty of them, men and women in black tactical gear with glowing magical tattoos etched across their exposed arms. Their augmentations were military-grade, the kind of enhancements that cost more than a small house and turned ordinary soldiers into walking weapons platforms. One mercenary crackled with electrical energy that made the air around him hum and vibrate. Another had arms that had been transmuted into living metal, gleaming silver in the fluorescent light.

A third stood eight feet tall, his body swollen with muscle-enhancement magic that made him look like a small mountain with legs. The Vice Director stood behind them, safe in the doorway of his office, his plump face arranged in a smug smile.

"I warned you," he called out.

"The Benjamin Group does not respond to threats. We eliminate them. You should have stayed home, Princess." His voice carried the casual confidence of a man who had never lost a corporate battle, who had never faced a threat that money couldn't make disappear. The Benjamin Group had survived regulatory investigations, hostile takeovers, and political scandals. A single Royal Unit, even one led by a princess, was just another problem to be solved with force and finance.

What the Vice Director failed to understand was that the 13th Unit had already faced enemies far more dangerous than corporate mercenaries. They had fought dark mages, survived assassination attempts, and uncovered conspiracies that would have broken lesser teams. The Benjamin Group's security force was just another obstacle. And unlike the Vice Director's previous opponents, this particular obstacle had a secret weapon of its own.

A weapon that walked with a slouch, talked with a grin, and was currently humming what sounded like a tavern song as it strolled through an active firefight. Iris surveyed the mercenary force with an expression of calm assessment. Thirty augmented soldiers. Military-grade enhancements. The odds were not in their favor by any conventional measure. But the 13th Unit had never been conventional.

"13th Unit," Iris said, her voice steady and clear.

"Combat formation." The team moved with the fluid precision of people who had trained and fought together for months. Laxmi, Zinia, and Naomi stepped to the front, forming a vanguard line that faced the mercenary squad head-on. Their expressions were grim, their stances ready, and their eyes blazing with determination. Behind them, Sayma and Risa took defensive positions near the elevator, protecting the research team and preparing to provide support.

Ira flanked the group, her silver-white hair catching the light as she assumed a combat stance that was sharp and precise. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Ira moved to a flanking position where she could observe the entire battlefield, her silver-white hair catching the light as she assessed entry points and escape routes. Her eyes were already scanning the room for tactical advantages and structural weaknesses.

Ken strolled into the lobby with his hands in his pockets, looking around at the mercenaries with the same casual curiosity he might show at a farmers market. He yawned. Actually yawned. One of the mercenaries nearest to him looked at his partner in confusion.

"Is he... yawning?" the mercenary whispered.

"Focus," his partner hissed back. The Vice Director raised his hand.

"Subdue them. All of them. But leave the Princess alive. She has political value." The mercenaries surged forward like a black tide, their augmented bodies moving with speed and power that would have overwhelmed any normal combat unit. Electrical blasts erupted from the front line, crackling through the air toward the 13th Unit's vanguard. The flames formed a shimmering barrier that crackled and roared with barely contained fury. Laxmi's fire magic was not subtle. It was not refined.

It was raw, primal power channeled through sheer will, and it was absolutely, terrifyingly effective. Laxmi didn't flinch. She raised both hands, and a wall of roaring flame erupted from her palms, meeting the electrical assault head-on. Fire and lightning collided in a spectacular display of opposing forces, filling the executive lobby with heat and light and the acrid smell of ozone.

"Is that all you've got?" Laxmi shouted over the roar of her flames.

"I've had campfires scarier than this!" She pushed forward, her fire intensifying, and the electrical mercenary was forced to retreat, his augmentations overheating from the thermal onslaught. Zinia swept her arms in a wide arc, and the floor beneath the mercenaries' feet transformed. Marble tiles became shifting earth, soft and unstable, causing the augmented soldiers to stumble and lose their footing. It was earth magic at its most practical, turning the battlefield itself into a weapon.

Naomi moved like a red-haired hurricane through the chaos. Her twin daggers flashed in the light as she dodged between mercenaries with speed that belied her compact frame. She wasn't trying to kill them. She was dismantling them, piece by piece, targeting augmentations and weapons with surgical precision. She moved between the mercenaries like water flowing around stones, her red hair streaming behind her like a battle flag. Each strike was delivered with economical grace, each dodge timed to the millisecond.

She was not the strongest fighter in the unit, but she might have been the most efficient. A mercenary with blade augmentations lunged at her from behind. Without turning around, Naomi ducked under his swing, spun on her heel, and drove the pommel of her dagger into the junction of his neck and shoulder. He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. A metal-armed mercenary swung at her with a fist that could have punched through a wall.

Naomi sidestepped, dragged her dagger across the hydraulic joint of his augmentation, and watched calmly as his silver arm went limp and useless at his side. He stared at her in disbelief.

"You'll pay for that," he snarled, raising his other fist.

"Send me the bill," Naomi replied, kicking his knee and sending him crumpling to the floor. The three of them fought in devastating synchronization. Laxmi's fire cleared the front line, Zinia's earth magic disrupted the enemy's footing, and Naomi's daggers picked aPart Anyone who got too close. It was a coordinated assault that turned the mercenaries' numerical advantage into a liability.

Ira moved through the battle with cold, precise efficiency, her strikes landing with the calculated brutality of someone who had been trained to fight since childhood. She didn't use flashy magic. She didn't need to. Each movement was designed to neutralize, disable, and incapacitate with minimal effort and maximum impact. A mercenary lunged at her with an electrically charged blade. Ira sidestepped, caught his wrist, twisted, and redirected his own momentum into the wall. He crumpled without a sound.

She was already moving on to the next target before he hit the ground.