I Breathe Euro

"Jack, my Boo, let's go," Amelia called out as she approached with a vanity bag clutched in her hand.

"Just this? Where are your important things?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow as his gaze shifted to the background, where Clark was darting around the villa like a man on a mission.

"Yes, this is all I have," Amelia replied nonchalantly. With that, she opened the vanity bag, revealing an impressive sight: bundles upon bundles of hundred-dollar bills stacked neatly inside.

"Do you need some money?" Amelia asked casually, her hand reaching for one of the bundles as if it were no big deal.

Jack reached out, gently placing his hand over hers to stop her. His expression softened as he gave her a warm smile.

"I don't need money," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "I just need you." As he spoke, his fingers brushed gently over her head, a gesture of affection that made Amelia pause for a moment.

"So, where are we going?" she asked eagerly, her desire to leave the villa evident in her tone.

"Wait a little," Jack replied, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. "My driver is fetching my gun." He then gestured toward the car, signaling her to head there.

Amelia nodded obediently and made her way to the car, her mind racing with thoughts about their escape. Meanwhile, Jack walked back into the villa with a casual air, his demeanor unbothered despite the fact that the villa's owner was dead, and the family had long abandoned any interest in the place.

As he stepped inside, his expression shifted to one of quiet focus. The first thing he did was activate his 'All Seeing Eyes,' a unique ability that allowed him to uncover secrets hidden within the villa. He wanted to know everything this place was hiding, and with his gift, there was no detail too small to escape his notice.

The first thing Jack noticed was the massive underground room hidden beneath the villa. It was enormous, stretching far beyond what the structure above suggested. Intrigued, Jack began searching for the entrance.

After a careful sweep, he found it—concealed under the thick carpet in the downstairs living room. Lifting the edge of the carpet, Jack uncovered a sturdy metal door. Without hesitation, he opened it, revealing a steep staircase spiraling downward into darkness.

At that moment, Clark appeared, lugging a massive briefcase in his hand. He stopped abruptly, his curiosity piqued by the sight of the mysterious passage.

"Doc, what's this?" Clark asked, his tone tinged with both curiosity and unease as he glanced toward the shadowy descent.

"I don't know," Jack replied, his voice steady and calm. "Let's go and find out." As he spoke, he reached behind him, retrieving his Glock 42. With a practiced motion, he reloaded the weapon, the sound of the slide echoing faintly in the room.

Clark's eyes widened in surprise. "Ah! Is there danger down there?" he asked, his tone shifting to cautious concern. Without waiting for an answer, he set the briefcase—containing Jack's sniper rifle—on the floor and pulled out his own handgun, readying himself for whatever lay ahead.

The entrance to the hidden room was dark and damp, the air heavy with an unplaceable tension. Jack's sharp senses picked up faint sounds, almost imperceptible. He paused, straining to focus. There it was—soft, rhythmic thudding. Mild heartbeats, distant yet unmistakable, pulsed faintly through the silence.

"Stay close," Jack murmured, his voice low but commanding as he descended the stairs, his Glock leading the way. The darkness seemed to thicken around them, the faint heartbeat sounds growing clearer with each step. Whatever secrets the villa held, Jack was determined to uncover them.

As Jack descended the final step, his foot landed on something brittle. The sharp sound of bone shattering echoed through the dark, damp room. Looking down, he saw fragments of a skull head scattered beneath his boots. The noise seemed to trigger a reaction—suddenly, the faint heartbeat he had detected earlier quickened, pounding erratically in the suffocating silence.

Jack's instincts sharpened. His eyes, honed by his Level 150 Raid Boss status, adjusted effortlessly to the oppressive darkness. His exceptional vision locked onto the source of the heartbeat, and his Glock snapped to attention, aimed with precision.

What he saw made even him falter. In the center of the room, amidst piles of rotting corpses, crouched a grotesque figure. It was small, barely the size of a baby, but its appearance was anything but innocent. Its misshapen form hunched over a gruesome meal, chewing on what looked like a mangled limb. Its glowing eyes pierced through the darkness, staring directly at Jack and Clark with unnerving awareness.

Clark took a step back, his breath hitching as he caught sight of the abomination. The creature exuded an unnatural aura, one that sent a chill down their spines.

Jack's gaze shifted to the glowing bubble above its head, revealing its level. His jaw tightened in astonishment. The level displayed was far beyond what he had expected for something so small. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the ghastly sight of countless corpses piled against the damp, crumbling walls.

He swallowed hard, his composure momentarily shaken. "Clark," he said in a low, steady voice, "stay sharp. This isn't just some ordinary room… or an ordinary creature."

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Clark gripped his handgun tightly, his face pale but resolute. Whatever this thing was, it was far from human—and far more dangerous than either of them had anticipated.

The creature's level bubble floated ominously above its head, displaying a staggering Level 190—far higher than either Jack or Clark had anticipated.

BANG!

Jack fired a shot, aiming for the creature's head with pinpoint accuracy. However, as expected, the grotesque baby-like figure dodged effortlessly, moving with unnatural speed. In an instant, it lunged at them, its twisted limbs stretching unnervingly as it closed the gap.

Reacting quickly, Jack drew his Azazel's Sword, the infamous weapon designed to devour souls. With a swift, calculated slash, he aimed to end the creature's existence. But to his shock, the sword had no effect. The blade merely sliced through the air, as if the creature's very essence was impervious to its power.

"Damn it!" Jack muttered under his breath, frustration flashing across his face. Without hesitation, he pivoted and delivered a powerful kick, channeling all his strength into the blow.

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The creature flew backward with the force of a bullet, smashing into the wall with a sickening crunch. Dust and debris rained down as the impact reverberated through the underground room. Yet, despite the devastating hit, the creature's twisted body twitched unnaturally, its eerie glow pulsating brighter with each passing moment. Slowly, it began to rise, the malevolent energy around it intensifying.

"Clark," Jack barked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. It was firm, commanding, and left no room for debate. "Go upstairs. I can't fight this thing with you around."

Clark hesitated for a brief moment, his gaze darting nervously between Jack and the creature. The air was thick with unease, but the determination in Jack's eyes was unmistakable. Without another word, Clark nodded and began retreating up the stairs, though his steps were reluctant.

As Clark disappeared from view, Jack's focus returned entirely to the creature. His eyes narrowed with steely resolve, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Slowly, he raised his hand, curling his fingers into a tight fist. With a low mutter under his breath, the faint outline of fiery energy began to glow in his palm, intensifying until it resembled the barrel of a blazing gun.

The creature, now fully emerged from the debris, seemed unfazed. It stepped out of the wall with unnatural ease, its body moving as if it hadn't been injured at all. Its glowing eyes locked onto Jack, and it let out a low, guttural sound that reverberated through the room.

Jack's smirk faded slightly as he observed its resilience. "Let's see if you can dodge this," he said, his voice calm but laced with deadly intent.

As the creature crouched low, preparing to lunge at lightning speed, Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out something he had been saving for a moment like this—a Skill Card. The golden-edged card shimmered faintly in the dim light of the room, its name etched in radiant letters: Golden Core Sword Slash.

This was no ordinary skill card; it was a trump card, reserved for emergencies. Jack's grip tightened around it, knowing full well its power.

The creature lunged forward like a bullet, its speed blinding, aiming directly for Jack with malicious intent.

Jack didn't flinch. Instead, he brought the card to life, activating its ancient power. His stance shifted, and a radiant, golden energy enveloped him, forming a spectral sword in his hand. The blade shimmered with unmatched brilliance, illuminating the dark room.

"Let's see how you handle this," Jack muttered, bracing himself for the clash, which was imminent.