TTD

Full video: Former special forces operative targeted by an assassin.

By trennui

3 min read

The iron door bolt slammed shut deep underground, echoing sharply in the pitch-black space, completely cutting off the chaotic sounds of the fierce battle above.

The young girl, chest heaving with fear and exhaustion, slipped and fell down the cold metal steps. The only light in the gloomy basement came from the auxiliary control panel screen, casting a glow on her tear-stained, terrified face.

She had just escaped the living room where her beloved grandfather stood facing a barrage of bullets, but what unfolded next was not a surrender in despair, but a fateful turning point rewriting the past.

Up above, the sturdy wooden door finally
was blown open by a shaped explosive charge.
Thick, billowing dust swept into the room.
The assault team consisting of four mercenaries
in black body armor, equipped with high-tech gear, rushed in
with cold commands: "Target has fled!
Search every nook and cranny! Capture the girl..."
Before he could finish, the leader froze upon seeing
the empty living room, leaving only
an old man standing quietly
leaning against the corner of the room. Under the flickering
light, his hunched back straightened up
terrifyingly. His once-cloudy eyes
now flashed with the sharp, ruthless gaze
of a true war machine.
"You guys are insane to step foot
in my house without knocking," his deep voice resonated,
steady yet filled with murderous intent
that suddenly made all four mercenaries stall.
"Grandmaster! Surrender, old man.
The organization has given the order..." the captain barked.
Faster than the blink of an eye, the grandfather lunged straight
forward, knocking the lead gunman's barrel
aside and driving his elbow right into the man's chest.
The sound of carbon armor cracking echoed,
and the mercenary collapsed, coughing up blood instantly.
The remaining three panicked and pulled their triggers. Bullets tore through
the air, riddling the wooden walls.
However, the grandfather had vanished into the smoke.
He rolled over the table, drew a gleaming dagger
from his ankle, and hurled himself down from the rafters.
The battle unfolded with ruthless speed.
There was no negotiation or warning.
Each mercenary was taken down using the most lethal
close-quarters combat techniques—slashing throats
and snapping necks in the blink of an eye.
In less than two minutes, the living room turned into
a bloody battlefield with four lifeless bodies.
The grandfather stood in the center, torn military fatigues
stained with blood, chest heaving but hands steady.
He walked over to the captain's corpse, removed the secure
communication device from the man's collar.
He pressed the button to activate the covert transmission channel,
his cold voice echoing into the device:
"Alpha team has failed. They have been completely eliminated."
From the other end, the commander's voice sounded panicked:
"What?! You guys are heavy special forces!
He's just a retired old man..."
"I have never retired, Colonel Vance,"
the grandfather interrupted, his voice sharp as a razor.
"I spent years faking my death and hiding,
but you people just wouldn't leave me in peace.
Tell those old men on the council to prepare
their coffins. I'm coming for every single one of you."
Cutting the connection, he smashed the device on the floor.
He didn't return to the underground path where his granddaughter hid,
knowing that path led to a safe fallback base.
His mission now was to completely clean out
the trash nest that had hunted down his family.
He stepped out onto the porch under the blazing sun.
In the distance, the mercenaries' truck
was still idling and roaring, waiting.
He opened the door, climbed into the driver's seat, floored the gas,
and sped straight out of the red valley.
The greatest purge in the underworld history began,
and those behind the curtain of supreme power
in Washington or Langley would pay in blood
for everything they had caused.