Twenty minutes later, the staff led the six elite teams to separate rooms and began explaining the assessnt rules to them.
anwhile, outside the training facility, luxury cars were arriving one after another, pulling up at the entrance. After verifying their identities, the vehicles were allowed to enter in an orderly fashion.
The owners of these luxury cars all had significant business partnerships with the Mavi family. They had been invited to attend a special party hosted by Mavi. Rumor had it that this party would be an experience unlike anything they had ever attended before.
An hour later, over thirty wealthy guests who had received invitations arrived at the party venue. To their surprise, the setup of the event was completely different from any party they had attended before. Large electronic display screens were positioned all around the venue.
The guests stood around with puzzled expressions, unsure of what Mavi had planned. However, out of respect for their relationship with him, no one voiced any complaints. Instead, they sipped their wine, engaged in small talk, and patiently waited for their host to appear.
About ten minutes later, Mavi finally entered the venue, dressed casually. So Russian tycoons, who had been filled with questions about the party, imdiately gathered around him and asked,
"Mavi, what kind of party is this? Why are there so many screens around?"
"Mavi, what's the the of this party? And why are you hosting it in broad daylight instead of at night?" a young heir, who had a close relationship with Mavi, asked while holding a glass of red wine.
Mavi did not answer imdiately. Instead, he gestured for the staff to turn on the largest screen in the venue.
As the screen lit up, the thirty or so guests saw a wild training ground appear on the display. It featured wooden cabins, a farm, vast green fields, and towering trees.
Soon, the surrounding electronic screens also switched on, showing the sa scene from different angles. The Russian tycoons could clearly see six teams positioned at the edges of the training ground.
Each team consisted of two mbers, but they were completely unard—without bulletproof vests or even a single weapon.
Seeing these images, the wealthy guests grew even more confused.
"What is this? What are these people supposed to be doing?"
"Why are there AK-47s and bulletproof vests lying on the floor inside those houses?"
"Is that a 98K sniper rifle? And is that ammo next to it?"
Back in 2000, the concept of battle royale gas did not exist. So, none of the thirty or so guests could understand what Mavi was trying to do.
Just as they were scratching their heads in confusion, Mavi spoke in a calm voice,
"Ladies and gentlen, please quiet down. What you are watching now is a segnt of my security company's bodyguard assessnt. In a mont, the six teams you see on screen will engage in combat within the training ground…"
As soon as Mavi finished speaking, the thirty or so wealthy guests exchanged intrigued glances. This kind of bodyguard assessnt was unlike anything they had ever seen before!
"A bodyguard assessnt? A real fight? This is actually pretty interesting!"
"So, the weapons and ammo inside the houses are for the six teams to collect before engaging in battle?"
"Is this assessnt for real? I an, are they actually shooting at each other and trying to kill one another?"
The concept of a real-life battle royale was so intriguing that the guests quickly beca invested in the event, eager to learn how the assessnt would unfold.
"You'll see soon enough," Mavi replied, deliberately keeping them in suspense. The real reason he had invited these wealthy individuals was to set the stage for his soon-to-be-launched security company. After all, only the wealthy could afford to hire bodyguards, and the best way to demonstrate a bodyguard's capability was through a direct comparison.
Seeing Mavi remain mysterious and tight-lipped, the guests dispersed and moved closer to the screens, ready to watch for themselves.
At that mont, the lavish food and fine wine at the party lost all appeal—nothing was more thrilling than watching a real battle unfold.
Mavi, too, focused on the screens, eager to see how the six elite teams would engage in combat. After all, these were highly trained operatives—forr special forces and intelligence agents. This was not a ga for amateurs.
As Mavi and the guests watched, the six teams quickly approached their designated cabins, collecting resources as fast as possible. Handguns, shotguns, MP5 submachine guns, bulletproof vests, helts, and ammunition—everything they needed to survive.
"Viktor! I think soone's coming!" Stepan, still fastening his helt, spotted movent outside the window.
The assessnt was based on a scoring system: one point per successful elimination. After three rounds, the team with the highest score would be declared the winner.
This rule ensured intense firefights, strategic maneuvers, and skillful displays of combat. It also allowed Mavi's behavioral analysts and tactical trainers to accurately evaluate each participant's performance.
For elite fighters, every encounter was a life-or-death test. The mont Stepan peeked out, a U.S. Marine Corps soldier crouching outside imdiately fired his AUG rifle.
Bang! Bang!
Two gunshots rang out, shattering the window fra and sending splinters flying. The guests at the party were glued to the screens, afraid to blink and miss any action.
"Flank them!" Viktor shouted. Grabbing his AK-47, he slipped out through the side door, using the building as cover. He and Stepan planned to trap the enemy in a crossfire.
Their coordinated maneuver was executed flawlessly, quickly putting the Marine under pressure.
However, their opponent was no amateur either. Realizing Viktor and Stepan had the upper hand, the Marine withdrew, preparing to launch a counterattack from another angle.
Just then, a third team entered the scene—two forr British SAS operatives.
One wielded an M4 assault rifle, the other carried a Desert Eagle handgun. They had been waiting for the perfect mont to strike and now saw an opportunity to take advantage of the chaos.
anwhile, in another area of the training ground, mbers of the Russian Spetsnaz engaged in a fierce firefight with U.S. Delta Force operatives. Neither side could gain the upper hand.
Back at the party, the thirty or so wealthy guests were so captivated by the intense battles that they could barely keep up with the action.
---belamy20
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