Carrigan sat in a jeep, his face a mask of panicked terror. Every so often, he looked back, terrified that the dreadful figure in the white mask would catch up. Wolves fierce enough to tear apart a special forces squad had not even counted as wild dogs before that person.
The former mercenary leader had encountered powerful beings with all kinds of extraordinary abilities before. For example, the Hell Lord Mephisto—he had not even dared to look the old man in the eyes, afraid that one careless moment would drag him into a lava hell. There were also high-ranking members of the Blood Clan and werewolves. Once those inhuman Dark Creatures went berserk, nothing short of mobilizing an elite force of more than a hundred men could harm them. Even many sorcerers and Demon Hunters who had infiltrated Eastern Europe had been devoured as after-dinner desserts.
Carrigan considered himself a man who had seen the world. Before becoming the head of a Romanian crime syndicate, he had graduated from Ryazan Higher Airborne Command School and joined Russia's Alpha Group, where he became an elite soldier. Perhaps driven by an adventurous streak deep within, this man with a bloodthirsty nature chose to become a mercenary who lived with his head on the line after retiring. He moved through dangerous regions like Chechnya and Albania, eventually becoming one of the leaders of Romania's crime syndicate.
In less than two years, Carrigan had dropped those last two words and gained complete control over Romania's largest criminal organization. He suppressed the local gangs with ruthless brutality—and every twist of fate had begun with that white-haired old man. Calling himself "Mephisto," the other party had offered him new life in exchange for his soul when he lay dying from two bullets in the chest.
Afterward,