Aspen's scream pierced the night. For a moment, she was certain bullets would tear through her. However, Andrew's arms locked around her, shielding her completely as he kicked the shredded sofa aside.

Then, a gold needle flashed from Andrew's fingers. The burly and tall Andarov Markovic snarled as his right wrist erupted in pain, and his Desert Eagle clattered to the floor.

Shocked and angry, Andarov quickly raised his other gun, ready to continue firing. Just then, Andrew blurred across the room and crushed an uppercut into his jaw.

"You're alive! Good. I'll peel your spine out myself and avenge my subordinates!" Andarov yelled. He dumped his remaining gun, elbows smashing Andrew's strikes.

Just like that, the two started fighting in the lobby on the first floor.

Srovikan fighters were already brutes, but Andarov was a wrecking ball. Every collision splintered walls, and every missed punch cratered the floor. Before long, the villa, already in ruins, was destroyed further.