The Tangled Fates

"My code name's Ghost Leopard. I'll be your training officer for the next three months, and you'll remember that name for the rest of your lives!"

"This is Zone 25. Here, you all have just one name-Rookies!"

Somewhere in the South Pacific, on a tropical island.

Under the blazing sun, a young woman in camo gear stood before a group of massive guys, all nearly six-foot-three and dressed in matching uniforms. She held a shiny black whip, her uniform not hiding the slender shape of her waist, her belt accentuating a figure that looked almost delicate. Her face was streaked with camo paint, but her sharp features still peeked through.

"Report, instructor!"

"Speak!"

A local soldier, struggling with his English, said to the girl, "We can't understand what you're saying. Please speak in the local language!"

Juliet Black couldn't help but laugh out loud. With a sly look in her eyes, she motioned for the rookie to come closer.

"Come over here," she said, curling her finger at him.

The rookie, still confused, took a big step forward.

"Miss, though it's Death God International Mercenary Training Base, we're all local guys. Please use the local language!"

As soon as he finished, Juliet whipped out her whip, swinging it straight toward him. He was quick, dodging just in time, but he didn't expect her follow-up-a kick that sent him flying into the dirt, stirring up a cloud of dust. She walked over, pressing her heavy black boot squarely against his chest.

"Didn't understand me, huh?"

"You..."

"Out here, no one's going to reason with you. There's no law, no rights-only strength matters!"

Juliet scanned the crowd.

"And because my fists are stronger than yours, I suggest that each of you use your off-time to pick up some English, so you won't end up dead just because you didn't understand what I said."

With that, she kicked the rookie aside, smirking lazily.

"Now, you. Translate what I just said into your 'local language.'" Her tone was dripping with sarcasm.

A bunch of rookies, a bunch of weaklings! And they dared to think they deserved her speaking their language? She knew exactly what this was about-these guys were top soldiers, trained in multiple languages, just looking for an excuse to challenge her.

The rookie clutched his cracked ribs and struggled to his feet, painfully translating her words. The rest looked spooked, none daring to speak again.

The base's mortality rate allowed for up to twenty-five percent. That meant out of the forty of them, she could shoot ten of them at random, and it'd still be considered within acceptable limits. As long as they wanted to live, none of them would dare mess with her.

Juliet glanced at their faces and felt satisfied. She leaned back on a lounge chair, a large umbrella shading her.

"Now, let's start your first lesson: sunbathing! I love the equatorial sun, and I'm sure you'll feel Zone 25's burning passion too..."

Before she finished, a shrill alarm blared. Juliet's expression shifted immediately. Forgetting the forty rookies in front of her, she sprang up.

"Stay put! No one moves!" And with that, she took off toward the base headquarters.

The base held a treasure trove of top-secret files, and though someone tried to break in nearly every month, no one had ever tripped the base's alarms.

The intruder this time had to be an expert!

Before Juliet even reached headquarters, she saw a figure drop down from the three-meter-high concrete wall surrounding it. The person was a man, judging by his build, dressed in all-black casual wear, with a mask and hat hiding his face.

The base's snipers fired a few shots, but every single one missed. Some instructors tried to intercept him, but he turned and shot two of them down effortlessly.

"Useless! Give me the rifle!" Juliet's face darkened as she kicked over the sniper behind the cover at the entrance, taking up his position herself. She lay low behind the barrier, squinting as she measured the right moment to shoot.