Hidden Shadow – Prologue

Prologue

This was the central square of Sector D3.

Angel had been lying in wait in this bustling area for half a month. She was kneeling before a ventilation window, two large wooden crates beneath her, observing the central square through her sniper scope.

The room was dimly lit and silent. She remained motionless, her black sniper uniform making her even less noticeable in the space, seemingly indistinguishable from the statues in the square, only her narrow eyes occasionally flickering.

Angel—that was the codename that the organization had given her, because her hands had never failed to send people to heaven. Those in the know understood that among snipers, besides the one codenamed “Death,” the other most terrifying one was codenamed with such a gentle and beautiful word—it was ironic.

A deep baritone voice came through the communicator, “Outdoor temperature 26°C, wind force level 2, good visibility, humidity 43%…”

A perfect sniping environment! Angel praised herself inwardly.

At 9:15, the square was becoming increasingly crowded.

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“Attention all parties, target within 5,000 meters, over.” Another voice quickly and briefly reminded her through the communicator.

Angel confirmed one last time that everything was ready, her right hand, gloved in black, resting on the trigger.

The vehicle could only move slowly through the busy city, taking nearly three minutes to enter firing range.

Angel kept her eyes fixed on a white Bugatti through her sniper scope.

This time, there was no further warning from the communicator. Angel estimated that she was more than 2,000 meters away from the target.

In another building.

The commander-in-chief sat calmly in front of the monitor, wearing a headset. Angel’s highest shooting distance was 1977.5 meters. The environment wasn’t as good back then, but barring unforeseen circumstances, her kill rate was over 90%, which was one of the main reasons the organization assigned her this mission.

The car stopped in front of the building; the door opened.

In this critical moment, Angel’s breathing was steady, as normal.

Through the sniper scope, Angel saw a middle-aged man step out of a car. His well-tailored dark gray striped suit accentuated his good physique; he looked to be only around forty, but the records indicated he was nearly fifty.

Angel’s sniper rifle was locked on his head.

She sensed a flash of light on the other side, and immediately the tense voice of her spotter came through the communicator, “Enemy sniper spotted. Angel exposed.”

A deathly silence followed; the commander-in-chief gave no orders.

Now, if she jumped off the crate immediately, her life would be safe, but Angel seemed not to hear her spotter’s words. Her dark eyes were fixed on the target in the scope, like a hunting hawk.

Through the scope, the target was already walking up the steps under the escort of bodyguards.

Ten meters away from being out of sniping range!

Target locked.

Angel quickly calculated his walking speed and bullet velocity. While the target moved, she had to precisely fire her bullets at the position the target was expected to reach in seconds.

During her two weeks there, she had mentally rehearsed and calculated the shots countless times. A second later, without hesitation, she pulled the trigger. The silenced sniper rifle fired a single bullet silently.

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At the same time, a loud bang resounded in front of her.

She clearly saw a bullet shatter the frosted glass of the ventilation window, heading straight for her.

A sudden chill ran down her spine.

The voices of the commander and the spotter crackled simultaneously over the communicator.

“Target hit, retreat.”

“Angel, how are you? Over!”

Angel fell from the crate, her shaky vision catching a glimpse of blue sky through the shattered ventilation window before slowly fading into darkness.

It was a perfect sniper shot, a perfect ending to her life. At least, from the age of sixteen until now, she had never missed a shot.

They said that when people died, they recalled many beautiful memories, but at this moment, her mind was blank, only the blue sky before her deeply imprinted in her heart.

Inside the building, the commander-in-chief slowly exhaled, remaining silent for a long time before lighting a cigarette.

He hadn’t seen the footage, but he sensed she was gone.

Besides her exceptional sniping skills, the organization had another crucial reason for sending Angel on this mission—she was a perfect killing machine. As long as the order wasn’t rescinded, even if her life was threatened, she would complete the mission without any psychological barriers.

The man’s long, slender fingers held the cigarette as he gave the order in a deep voice, “Bring Angel back.”