Rebirth: A Second chance at life-Chapter 73: Calvert old mind not braining?

*****⚠️ Trigger Warning: The following content contains graphic depictions of violence, physical abuse, and intense scenes of confrontation. Reader discretion is strongly advised.*****

Aurora stood tall and unbothered beside him, a slight smirk dancing on her lips. Her clothes weren’t even wrinkled.

She looked like she had just returned from a morning stroll, not a violent encounter.

The guards exchanged confused looks.

What the hell happened?

Calvert screamed with a roar, "What are you all staring at?!

Grab that bitch and break her legs! I want her crawling before she dies. I’ll rip that smile off her face and feed her to the wolves!"

Aurora tilted her head slightly. That same mocking smirk was still on her face.

Then everything exploded into chaos.

One of the guards lunged at her—but before his fingers could even brush her, she twisted her body and slammed her elbow into his jaw.

A loud crack echoed in the room, followed by the man collapsing like a sack of bricks.

Two more charged.

She pivoted, spinning her leg in a high roundhouse kick. Her boot landed square on one man’s temple, knocking him out cold.

The other she grabbed mid-motion, twisted his arm backward until he screamed, and slammed him into the floor with a thud. His shoulder was instantly dislocated.

The rest finally reacted, but it was already too late.

Aurora dashed forward, moving faster than their eyes could track.

She ducked under a punch, grabbed a baton from one of the guards, and used it to crack two ribs of the man behind her.

Then she spun again, flinging the baton like a boomerang—it hit the man by the door in the neck, and he crumpled without a sound.

Another guard tried to shoot.

She rolled across the ground, came up behind him, and kicked the gun out of his hand.

Before he could react, her foot slammed into his knee, snapping it backward. He howled in pain as he dropped.

One more guard—faster and more trained—lunged with a combat knife.

She grabbed a vase from the side table, ducked under his strike, and slammed the ceramic against his face. Blood sprayed as he collapsed.

From one of the downed men, she picked up a sleek pistol, loaded with bullets.

The room went still.

For a second, there was only the sound of Calvert’s panicked breathing and the moans of his men scattered across the floor.

Aurora clicked the gun in place and aimed it at the hallway.

More footsteps thundered in.

The second wave of guards rushed in. Calvert had hit the highest-level alert—his elite men were coming.

But Aurora wasn’t scared. She stood in the center of the room, her gun steady, her expression deadly.

As the first two guards entered, she shot them in their legs—not to kill, but to cripple.

Her movements were quick, efficient, practiced. One bullet in the thigh, the other in the knee. She didn’t even blink.

"Useless," she muttered under her breath.

Three more tried to flank her from behind, thinking they were being clever.

She already knew.

She dropped to the ground just as they reached her, spinning on her knees and shooting at their ankles. Screams followed as they all dropped like dominoes.

The last of the guards charged in full force, trying to surround her.

Aurora calmly shot the chandelier above them. The glass crashed down, stunning them with shards and light.

While they were distracted, she shot two more in the chest—non-lethal but enough to knock them out of the fight.

Within minutes, the entire living room was filled with bodies. Some unconscious, some groaning, some bleeding. But none of them stood.

Calvert watched, frozen. His mouth hung open. He couldn’t move. His brain refused to accept what just happened.

This was no girl. No helpless woman. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

This was a monster.

A demon.

A ghost from hell.

He frantically searched for his phone, his fingers trembling. He dialed his last emergency contact—his last resort. Maybe, just maybe, someone stronger could—

BANG!

The phone was shot clean out of his hand.

Aurora turned to him, smoke still rising from the gun in her hand.

"I warned you," she said softly. "I’m not someone you call for help against."

Calvert swallowed, his throat dry.

"Wh-what are you?" he whispered.

Aurora smiled. But there was no warmth in it. Only fire.

"Someone who should’ve never been messed with."

She walked over to the body of a groaning man, kicked away his weapon, and turned her attention back to Calvert.

Calvert’s thoughts were spinning. Who the hell did Stephen introduce me to?

He thought this would be a simple deal. Just a spoiled girl from a rich family. Trade her, break her, use her, toss her.

But now...

He couldn’t even breathe.

Aurora approached him, her gun lowered now, but her eyes full of silent rage.

He couldn’t help it—he cursed Alexander, cursed Stephen. If he ever got out of this, he would destroy them both.

But deep inside, he knew.

He wouldn’t be getting out of this.

Not today.

Not ever.

"Now tell me what I need to know," Aurora said. Her voice was calm and quiet, as if the chaos around them and the dead bodies on the floor had nothing to do with her.

"The first floor... second room on the left," Calvert answered, his voice shaking.

Without another word, Aurora turned on her heel and walked toward the stairs. Just before climbing up, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. "Are you waiting for an invitation? Hurry up."

Calvert flinched and quickly followed behind her, stumbling over his steps. But behind the mask of fear, his eyes flickered with something dark. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and discreetly sent out an SOS message to his men.

"Let’s see how long you can keep up, bitch," he muttered under his breath. He didn’t believe for a second that Aurora could handle the kind of people heading here now—not bodyguards, but assassins trained to kill.