Every Mafia's Favorite Girl novel Chapter 121

Chapter 121: "The Dead Zone"

The mock city stretched before Aren, flanked by towering wooden facades, abandoned shipping containers, and hollow tactical structures designed to resemble an urban battlefield.

Her pace immediately slowed.

Not enough for the spectators to notice, but enough for her eyes to sweep rapidly across every structure.

’Jordan said two-thirds of the way through the lane.’

’A two-story structure with a faded blue container attached behind it.’

’But I shouldn’t assume that’s the only possibility. Jordan only caught a glimpse.’

’The shooter could’ve hidden somewhere else... or changed positions after Jordan’s run.’

Her gaze darted across every opening as she moved.

Every dark slit.

Every suspicious shadow.

The closer she came to the described location, the more her pace eased.

Finally...

She saw it.

The two-story structure.

The faded blue shipping container attached to its rear.

’There you are.’

Without hesitation, Aren slipped behind a nearby wooden mock building and carefully peeked around its edge.

Her gaze swept over the structure.

Numerous narrow firing slits pierced the upper level, each offering an ideal angle over the main lane.

’Several possible firing positions.’

’He won’t expose himself until he sees me.’

With that in mind, she calmly inserted a fresh magazine.

’I’ll clear the visible targets first.’

’Then I’ll immediately put rounds into every firing slit.’

’If bullets start coming back from one of them, then I’ll know exactly which slit belongs to him.’

Meanwhile, inside one of the hollow tactical structures, the concealed marksman lay perfectly still.

He had been hidden there for hours, and he knew the final moments of today’s mission were fast approaching now that Ariana Lombardi’s run had finally begun.

Sweat soaked through his black T-shirt, dampening the rifle stock pressed against his shoulder. His muscles had long since begun to ache from remaining perfectly motionless, yet his aim never wavered.

The rifle remained trained down the narrow mock street. All he had to do was wait for one blonde head to enter his scope.

Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes.

By now, it should have been her turn.

Yet...

She still hadn’t appeared.

His brows slowly drew together.

’...Where is she?’

By every calculation, she should have entered his line of sight by now.

The finger resting against the trigger began tapping impatiently despite his discipline.

Suddenly—

BANG!

A bullet screamed past the firing slit.

It struck one of the nearby steel targets with a sharp metallic CLANG.

Another followed.

BANG!

Then another.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Several rounds zipped dangerously close to the opening. One ricocheted off the outer plating barely inches from his rifle barrel.

His chest lurched.

’Shit.’

’Why is she shooting this way so much?’

’At this rate, a stray round’s going to come straight through the slit!’

For the first time since entering the structure, genuine panic crept into his thoughts.

He forced himself to breathe.

’Calm down.’

’You’ve done this before.’

’Finish the mission.’

Then suddenly—

Movement.

A flash of platinum-blonde hair appeared at the edge of his scope.

Adrenaline exploded through him.

Without another thought, he squeezed the trigger.

THOOM!

The rifle bucked violently against his shoulder.

But the blonde figure vanished almost the instant she appeared.

The bullet slammed harmlessly into the concrete wall beyond, blasting out a shower of dust and gouging a fresh crater into the mock street.

Outside the structure, safely concealed behind cover once more, Aren immediately shifted her gaze toward the impact.

A small smile curved across her lips.

’Ah.’

’Found you.’

Without wasting another second, she leaned out just far enough to bring her pistol to bear on the firing slit.

Six rapid shots rang out in flawless succession, each aimed not to kill, but at shoulder height, where a prone sniper would naturally brace his weapon.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The rounds hammered the metal wall.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The steel plating erupted in showers of sparks.

Each impact landed exactly atop the last.

THUD-THUD!

’Almost there.’

’Just a little farther.’

’There!’

’I’m almost out!’

’I made it!’

He shoved the door open—

—and froze.

Completely.

Outside, nearly a dozen Marchetti guards already stood waiting, weapons drawn and blocking every possible route of escape.

Standing confidently at their head was Oscar Marchetti, both hands planted proudly on his hips, a triumphant grin stretched across his youthful face.

The instant Oscar saw him emerge, his eyes lit up.

"There he is!"

He thrust a finger straight at the stunned marksman.

"That’s the guy trying to sabotage the Trials! Subdue him immediately! Take him to the holding cells for interrogation!"

The marksman’s blood ran cold.

’...How?!’

’How the hell did they find me?!’

Pure desperation seized him.

With a hoarse shout, he charged straight toward the guards, hoping to break through before they could react.

It was a hopeless attempt.

A dozen trained Marchetti guards descended on him at once.

They slammed him onto the concrete, pinned his remaining arm behind his back, and tore the rifle case from his grasp.

Before he could even gather his bearings, Oscar darted through the crowd with startling speed.

THWACK!

His fist crashed squarely into the assassin’s jaw.

The man’s head snapped violently to the side before he crumpled to the ground, thoroughly dazed.

"There!" Oscar declared with immense satisfaction. "That’s for messing with my family’s competition, you sucker!"

He signaled for the men.

"Take him away. Lock him up!"

The guards wasted no time. They hauled the wounded assassin roughly to his feet and marched him toward the holding cells.

Oscar remained where he stood, chest puffed out proudly as he admired the successful arrest.

For exactly one heartbeat.

Then the victorious grin vanished as though it had never existed. His eyes widened as they darted anxiously back toward the warehouse.

’Miss Lombardi!’

Without another thought, he spun on his heel and bolted back toward the warehouse at full speed.

Behind him, several bewildered guards called after him.

"Mister Oscar!"

"Aren’t you coming to the interrogation?"

Oscar didn’t even slow down. Still sprinting, he waved wildly over one shoulder.

"No way! You guys handle that! I’ve gotta go check if... uh..."

He stumbled over the excuse before shouting the first thing that came to mind.

"I’ve gotta make sure the final contestant is safe! And I’ve gotta see whether she makes the top sixteen!"