Arcane, Fist, and Steel

Chapter 0

A young couple is on a date at a fancy café shop in the middle of Ha Noi. The young man has been sitting there for at least one hour, two empty cups of coffee can be seen on his table, along with a half-eaten cake. Meanwhile, the lady has just arrived and put in her order. They kept staring at each other, their gazes are filled with curiosity, with a tint of steel or two. The man occasionally glances at his watch, letting his lady know that he is running late. She is not impressed.

"You are late, Witch."

"A lady is never late, Commando. She arrives exactly when she means to. You are simply early."

A small scoff escapes from the throat of the young man, who is no other than a special force operator in plain clothes. Opposite of him is a witch – one that both puts his entire team out of action and saves them again in a single night. The second part is enough to grant her some benefits of doubts. As in he would not put a bomb under her seat. For now.

Mostly because he is concerned with civilian collateral damage... but also because Witch is quite a beautiful woman. With a white shirt and a grey pencil skirt, she is not so different from an office worker... A cute and beautiful office worker. Her long smooth silky black hair is let loose behind her back. Yet, it is not let loose in full, he has already noticed some braids being made on the top of her head. Some kind of hairstyle, to be sure. Commando is not someone well versed in arts, he simply knows how to appreciate the beauty of it. The hairstyle of the Witch is one such case. A man simply does not need to have the right words to describe beauty, he simply needs to admire it.

Her body figure is also quite a piece of art. Her white shirt is stretched and tightened by her bosom, with the waist being narrowed down. This results in the image of an hourglass, a figure that men love, and women would kill for. And, if his eyes are to be trusted, she is also wearing some coloured lingerie on top. However, her legs are distracting him from this. The black pantyhose brings some air of mystery, keeping his eyes locked on her slender smooth legs. Some very sexy slender smooth legs and thighs.

Let no one says that High Command does not know how to reward their troops.

"Enjoying what you see?"

As usual, when a man is checking out a woman (and a beautiful woman at that), she would know it immediately. How she finds out is always a mystery and something that makes the ordeal much more exhilarating. Commando is a young man, he never denies such allegations.

"Very. If we are to work together, we should at least find some pleasure in doing so."

"You are informed of the details?"

"Not exactly. I have my hunch, but nothing concrete."

And this is the crux of the issue. After a certain debacle, he has been pulled from his unit to "prepare for some special mission". He is surprised, to say the least. Fudging up one's very first operation (even for the right reasons, in his opinion) is never a good sign. Thus, there is a reasonable chance that High Command is just playing payback here. The fact that he is the only remaining combat-capable operator in the unit might play a role or two in this decision. One can never be sure when a highly functional alcoholic is the chief.

For some reason though, Witch lets a ghost of a smile appear on her face. Her bright red lips quivered up, just a slight tiny bit. Her heart-shaped face seems to brighten up a bit and her black eyes sparkle with both joy and some degree of mirth, making the woman even more attractive and beautiful. She then crosses her arms under her bosom, then lifts them up, further emphasizing her assets. By now, she may or may not have the attention of every single male in the room, as well as the jealousy of the women. And of course, she is definitely smirking, as if she knows the answer to a joke while Commando does not.

Things are not exactly as he hopes for, but things could be worse. Besides, while High Command loves payback, they would not simply burn their assets away. Doing so is simply stupid and wasteful. Thus, it is likely that the next operation would be annoying, but not something too dangerous.

"Still, that part is irrelevant for the time being. I just want to meet my partner for the next operation."

"Interesting. Aren't you bothered by the fact that I'm a sorceress and I can boil you alive with a finger snap?"

"I'm a professional. I can keep my personal opinions out of the mission. That, and what makes you think that I haven't rigged some booby traps against you?"

The witch seems to be impressed by that answer, though not necessarily in a good way. She licks her lips in a hungry manner, and her eyes now have a glint of thirst or desire. Commando is not sure of how he should feel. On the one hand, he is still a young man, and everyone like him has dreamt of being attracted to a beautiful woman (or women, plural). On the other hand, this lady is quite dangerous, and one must be alive and in one piece first and foremost to enjoy the such idea.

However, as he has already said, he is a professional, and he can keep his own personal thoughts to himself. And so, with a stoic face (or at least, he hopes his face is still stone cold), he just simply raises his eyebrows, wordlessly asking the lady the question.

"You are a most interesting man, Commando. Please keep me entertained, our work would be boring if you don't do that."

Dread starts to settle in the heart of the man. Things seem to be heading for the worse, which means troubles down the line. Granted, he is among the problem solvers of the state, but it does not mean that he would be deployed constantly around the clock. A boring day is a good day, as the saying goes among the force. The best blessing is the whole department has nothing to do, as the commander describes it. Now, with his prospective "partners" looking to be entertained during the mission, he is already regretted accepting it.

To think, he still has one more meeting to conduct. He wonders what can possibly go wrong.

The answer comes in just a few seconds when the door is opened, revealing another beautiful woman. And just like Witch, she quickly attracts the gaze of the men within the café. However, unlike the other lady, the newcomer has some pronounced differences. As a starter, she looks much more athletic. A slender, slim and toned body. Short and shoulder-length brown hair. Quick and firm footsteps. A red and white sports jacket is left open, revealing a form-hugging black T-shirt and a pair of short blue jeans underneath. If Witch is an alluring office lady, then she would be similar to a university student.

Of course, just as his luck would have it, she quickly moves toward his desk and pulls herself into a chair. The two girls quickly eye each other. Rather intensively, one might say. A spark is almost ignited between them when they are both sizing each other up. At first glance, people might say the three people may be in a love triangle. Two ladies are fighting over the same man for his affection (and presumable, his house, his car and his inheritance). Such things are not exactly rare in modern society. Regrettably, yes, but not exactly rare.

However, as much as he wants to have a few ladies fighting over him (a few, not two), Commando is still sane enough to know how problematic it is. The peaceful daily lives would be broken with insults, catfights and broken nails, and this is the least bloody option. One might also encounter daily problems that require practical answers, such as how to make sure that everyone is taken care of equally in the harem.

Furthermore, these two ladies are not in love with him, they want to kill him. Or at least, "wanted to" or "ordered to" – past tense and passive tone, respectively. This alone is problematic enough... The worse part is now he must work with both at the same time.

"Cultivator."

"Witch."

"New hairstyle, I take it. I hope that I didn't cause too many problems for you last week."

"And you have a new pair of earrings. Do your ears still hurt?"

Well, he has to work with both of them and make them work together. Without any casualties, that is.

Something that is much easier said than done.

No pressure