Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Sticky
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“Are you okay?”
Torra came over and extended his hand as he asked. Jane looked at him.
“What happened?”
Jane took his hand and stood up.
“Looks like we’ve got a tail.”
“From which side?”
“Who knows.”
As they spoke, Torra was still holding her hand. It was large and warm. Jane yanked her hand free right away. Then she went over to the shop owner, who was frowning at the minor commotion in his store.
“Sorry about that. Seemed like a stalker showed up.”
“Do stalkers these days travel in groups?”
The owner’s face showed he wasn’t buying the excuse. Even so, Jane shrugged without missing a beat.
“Yeah, looks like they’re dividing up roles now.”
That seemed to be SAU’s way of doing things.
In any case, the owner—skeptical as he was—still had that good-citizen sense of duty and asked,
“Should I call the cops?”
As he said it, he glanced at Torra, clearly thinking someone that size was tailing her—did she really need the police?
“I’m good.”
With that, Jane—to Torra’s surprise, given it was the first time he’d seen such an expression on her—flashed a bright smile.
“I’ll just kill them myself.”
Why a chill ran down his spine, Torra had no way of knowing.
***
Jane and Torra checked into the hotel and rode the elevator up. Following their usual routine, Jane checked Torra’s room first. Seeing nothing amiss, she said,
“Then get some rest.”
Torra grinned.
“Thanks, Summer.”
Jane wanted to smack the mouth that she herself had told him to use her first name with, but since she’d brought it up, she couldn’t take it back now. Besides, this guy was definitely drawing it out sweeter on purpose.
Jane headed to her own room. She pulled out her gun, checked it, and put it back.
Creak.
She opened the window. Peering down at the dark alley below, a cool night breeze rushed across her face. It was the fifth floor—not terribly high, but enough that a human falling from it wouldn’t escape severe injury.
Jane gripped the window frame to test its sturdiness, then muscled her way out. Carefully stepping across protruding ledges, she shifted over to the window of the next room. She glanced inside. Torra—apparently about to shower, shirt off and wearing only pants—was heading into the bathroom. The door shut behind him.
Jane waited a moment before stepping onto the balcony. At the window, she pulled a sticker-like device from her pocket and attached it.
It was a muffler that absorbed sound or maintained sudden spikes in decibels as steady waves. When running intel ops against the sharp-sensed Luas, humanity had no choice but to invent all sorts of gadgets.
Next, she carefully slid the window open. She’d made sure not to lock it earlier, pretending to check the outside while inspecting the room, so it gave way easily.
Shhhh….
The sound of shower water came from the bathroom.
Jane drew her gun, gripped it, and crept up beside the bathroom door. Her one shot to take down Torra was the moment he emerged, off guard. Jane waited for the water to cut off.
‘No, hold on.’
In that instant, she realized something was off. The spray wasn’t splashing irregularly against a standing body. This was the steady patter of water hitting the floor alone.
The moment she caught on, Jane whipped around and leveled her gun. Torra stood there, bone-dry. His face blank.
“……!”
But before she could do anything else, Torra seized her gun hand and slammed her against the wall.
Thud.
She hit the wall and lost her grip on the pistol.
Jane tried to sweep his legs, but Torra eased back just enough to spin her around, then pinned her from behind with his body. She bucked against him, but it was like being trapped under a boulder—she couldn’t budge.
This was exactly why you had to hit vampires in their weak spot and finish them in one go. Instead, she’d landed in the worst possible spot.
“Shh.”
As Jane struggled fiercely, Torra pressed in a little firmer and whispered in her ear.
“I’m not here to hurt you.”
Jane glared back at him over her shoulder, eyes fierce enough to tear.
“Let me go.”
“I’ll explain, so just stay put for a second. A lieutenant like you wouldn’t sit still, so I had no choice.”
Still holding her pinned, Torra glanced toward the front door and said,
“Come in.”
The door opened then, and people filed inside. The two men she’d spotted earlier that day. Torra gave them a strained smile.
“This is on you guys. I told you not to follow.”
One of the men apologized.
“Sorry. We just couldn’t stop worrying.”
Jane narrowed her eyes.
“At this rate, Ituha won’t be moving anytime soon.”
She could tell at a glance they were with “Ituha.” But the Ituha unit—attached to the MCTC Central Guard Division’s 1st Jaeger Regiment—had every squad under movement restriction right now. They couldn’t even leave base.
The other man spoke up.
“We’re not Ituha.”
As Jane opened her mouth to call out the nonsense, he added,
“We’re Ituha hopefuls.”
Dark skin, black eyes. Their native-like features were familiar. And their movements—inhuman despite being human—were even more so.
Shyraka.
That was the Satadier word for “vampire.”
“That’s why I keep saying you guys stand out too much.”
Torra sighed. Jane shot back at him.
“So the hopefuls came to pay respects to the captain?”
Torra’s face lit up with intrigue.
“Impressive. You even speak our language.”
Torra Satadi—one of Ituha’s two founders and captain of the 2nd Squad.
She hadn’t wanted to believe it from the moment they met, but the intel from her superiors was solid.
This impossibly carefree man was the captain of a mercenary unit rated as an overwhelming force even within MCTC’s elite 1st Jaeger Regiment.
“You gonna let go or not?”
Only when Jane glared and demanded did Torra finally release her. Then he abruptly stuck out his hand.
“Hand it over.”
“Hand what?”
“What the lieutenant keeps so dear in her chest pocket.”
Jane scowled, about to snap back. Torra beat her to it.
“I know about it. Just give it here.”
Silence stretched out. Jane saw no way out. No—even if she did, she couldn’t leave Torra’s side without orders from above, and it wasn’t clear if crossing him now was the right call.
With no choice, Jane reached into her jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out a slim case, handing it over. Torra popped it open. He lifted out the metal syringe nestled amid the supplements.
The Ituha men—the hopefuls—went deadly serious at the sight.
“Captain, is this…?”
“Looks like they finally made a substance that can kill us.”
Torra muttered, eyes glued to the syringe.
“I figured a day like this would come eventually, but not this soon.”
He seemed like a completely different person. Even knowing he was Ituha’s captain, his usual flippant vibe made it impossible to buy.
Torra fixed Jane with a grave look and asked,
“What’s in it?”
As Jane started to answer, he cut her off again.
“Don’t play dumb—you know something.”
“I don’t.”
Jane said it stubbornly.
“Then we’ll just have to find out ourselves. I’ll take this and—”
As Torra moved to pass the syringe to one of the Ituha men, Jane blurted out,
“This is a blatant contract violation.”
Torra swung the syringe toward her instead.
“Then what about MCTC cooking up stuff like this behind our backs? What happens if Legion gets their hands on it? And what’s the play sending an SAU special forces operative with one of these stuck to my detail? Backup plan to take me out if things go south?”
Jane froze. Torra pressed on, as if he’d been waiting.
“Yeah, I know. You’re SAU. Attached a human agent on purpose so I wouldn’t catch on.”
Jane let out a sigh and fished an envelope from her jacket’s inner pocket. She pulled out a photo and set it on the table.
“This is why. Captain Rato made contact with Legion.”
The photo captured Rato meeting unfamiliar men—exact match for the description from the woman who’d slept with him before.
“Without telling us.”
Jane added.
“Actions like that are wide open to misinterpretation.”
Rato glanced at Jane, then tore the photos to shreds in one go. Jane asked in a flat tone, unsurprised.
“You know there are originals elsewhere, right?”
“I know. It’s just for show. Symbolic. Stuff like this means nothing. Rato would never betray Marti.”
He said it with the certainty of the sky being blue or the Earth being round.
“Then what’s Marti’s angle?”
Jane pressed, eyes hard.
“There is no angle.”
Torra spat it almost like a curse.
“Marti was just running from that monster of a Miseri Grand Duke. But it was clear you can’t solve anything by running forever. That’s why Rato and I formed Ituha. To take the Grand Duke out.”
In the beginning, Ituha operated like guerrillas—small hit-and-runs without showing their faces.
But eventually, the bizarrely superhuman physiques of these “obviously human” guys drew MCTC’s attention.
Back then, SN—the Legion’s predecessor—was ramping up with heavy weapons, turning into a full-on terrorist outfit, and small-time militias like Ituha were starting to get outmatched. Ituha needed an out, and so did the government.
The government wanted the militia’s speed and stealth. Ituha wanted the government’s regular forces and firepower.
Torra walked over and snatched the t-shirt draped over the sofa as he spoke.
“MCTC came to us and said, ‘Let’s take down the Grand Duke together.’ That was enough for us. Get rid of that bastard, and Marti could live free.”
He yanked the shirt on, visibly pissed.
“But MCTC just locked the Grand Duke up in prison. Didn’t kill him.”
“We judged him by the law. He got 780 years—no bail, no reductions. That’s as good as—”
“Ever been stalked?”
Torra cut in.
“You know what even one year does to a victim? And the stalker’s family, no less. Kill your target, and you’re stuck with the stigma and guilt of family-slaying. You have any idea how soul-crushing that is?”
Jane fell silent for a beat, but her demeanor didn’t shift as she replied.
“But there are established rules. And agreements.”
Torra shook his head at the ceiling, clearly sick of what he saw as rigid military bullshit.
“Soldiers, man.”
He knew arguing the point with them led nowhere. So he waved it off and changed gears.
“Rato was trying to force an end to it, one way or another.”
“And ended up a hostage as a result.”
“Eight of them.”
Torra said out of nowhere.