Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Sudden! Help Natasha or Rescue the Hostage
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(Sudden!) Help Natasha (Choice)
Rescue the Hostage (Choice)
XP 2,500
Jin skimmed the keywords like he was speed-reading and turned his head.
"Hey. Don't tell me the cargo is..."
"Yeah. A person."
The flat response came right back.
Natasha gripped the steering wheel with just her right hand.
Even with one side mirror dangling loose, her left hand leisurely held the cigarette and flicked the ash.
It wasn't the reaction of your average trucker, so Jin fiddled with the Gravis at his waist.
Still, since she'd fed him, he didn't draw it right away and tried to stay calm and talk it out.
"I'm maxed out on hostage sensitivity right now for various reasons. Can you give me a three-line summary before I make a biased call? Two lines would be even better."
In the meantime, an engine roar closed in.
There were curses like "that bitch" and "this slut"—
And the gunfire that followed.
The sharp bang! of a shot and the ping! of a bullet grazing metal.
It came from right beside them.
Close enough to feel like it had whistled past his ear.
Shit just hit the fan.
Jin gripped the door handle by the window and checked the side mirror again.
The cab mirror was useless on a cargo truck like this, so there were multiple auxiliary side mirrors.
Ignoring the shattered rectangular one.
He looked at the smaller mirror below it, which reflected the road behind.
Vroooom!
Two black muscle cars were tailing the truck tight.
The source of the bullets was obviously those guys—one hanging his upper body out the window, firing away.
More "that bitch, this slut" from his mouth.
Guy's got lungs.
Jin turned his head.
And that's when Natasha spoke up.
"I got scammed. Not just once or twice, and not just yesterday or today. I put up with it knowing full well, but I guess that made me look like a pushover. Things were starting to cross the line, so I gave a polite warning."
That's as far as it goes.
She continued amid the cigarette smoke, her dimples deepening.
"And then the scammer—?"
"Questions now? Hey, bullets are flying!"
Bang! Ping! Bang! Ping!
Rhythmic shots grazed the truck body.
Jin's objection was perfectly reasonable.
Natasha floored it as she answered.
"The guy got spooked alone and tried to kill me. He finally crossed the line. And now he's tied up back there in the cargo hold as payback."
Jin nodded, glancing at the side mirror.
Not counting the random question in the middle.
This was pretty much a three-line summary.
Putting it together:
"...So the scammer crossed the line, you kidnapped him, and now his goons are chasing us? Yelling 'bitch, slut, crazy whore, double slut' the whole time?"
"Spot on."
Jin added to Natasha's affirmation.
"Didn't expect them to follow?"
"Yeah. I wiped his neural socket clean. Thought there'd be no way to track us. Guess he pulled some trick. Who knows—maybe he swallowed a GPS tracker ahead of time."
Natasha muttered that, then let out a hollow chuckle.
"Believe me or not, I didn't plan to drag you into this. Should've been in better shape, huh?"
"Can I hop out now?"
"Sure, but you'd still get pegged as an accomplice."
Jin had a rough grasp of the situation now.
But he couldn't take Natasha's word as gospel—he needed the hostage's side too.
Whenever there's a dispute, you hear both sides, right?
...In normal situations, anyway.
Not when bullets are flying!
So Jin stopped overthinking.
If he had to pick one side,
Between the rag-in-mouth spray-and-pray psychos and the woman who gave him a ride and a burger combo, Natasha was the lesser evil.
Simple is best.
"Gotta earn my meal."
Decision made, Jin rolled down the window.
Leaned out his upper body and yanked the Gravis trigger.
BOOM—!!
The thunderous shot shattered the lead muscle car's left headlight with a crash!
"Sh-shit!"
The loudmouth in the back seat, upper body stretched out shooting, flinched and ducked his head.
He wasn't the only one spooked—the harsh wind stung Jin's ears as Natasha's voice rang out.
"What the hell, you fire a cannon?!"
But Jin answered with another trigger pull instead of words.
And realized something.
It wasn't hitting like he thought.
The first shot, and this one too.
He'd aimed for the driver, but only nailed the headlight and hood instead.
Unavoidable.
Moving vehicle, unstable posture, Gravis's insane recoil. One-handed to boot.
With all those penalties stacked, even Jin couldn't expect clean hits.
But he was getting the feel—confident the next one would land—he pulled the trigger again.
"Head in!"
Natasha's shout came with the truck shaking.
Then it zigzagged lanes, weaving between cars to pass—
Jin, who'd scrambled to the passenger seat dodging the now-side-by-side metal hunk, heard Natasha ask.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. Didn't hit anything."
More like he regretted that last confident shot missing.
Especially since the Gravis slide had locked back—the mag was empty.
"Damn. Of all times."
The spare mags from Brof were tucked safe in Manticore's trunk. And Manticore was parked at the motel. He'd texted Kalifa to grab some when leaving the factory.
Ignoring her "What trouble you stirring?" reply wasn't a secret.
Anyway, back to it.
"This got annoying."
Jin muttered as he holstered the Gravis.
Cracked his neck side to side.
"First off, I'll..."
Not even hearing the rest of Natasha's words, he leaned out the window again.
This time, upper body and legs—everything.
Whoosh!
With a springy move, Jin landed on the truck's roof, wind shoving at his back as he leaped toward the cargo hold.
Suddenly, the rear view he'd relied on mirrors for was in plain sight.
VROOOOM!!
The two muscle cars had broken through the traffic maze, engines roaring as they closed the gap—
Now it was do or die, huh.
The loudmouth, who'd gotten no joy from his pistol so far, gripped a rifle and poked his head out—spotted Jin on the trailer and froze.
"Fuck! When the hell did he climb up there?!"
Even in panic, he aimed—
Jin focused his mind.
Classic mechanics says:
If you know where an object started and its direction and speed next instant—
You can predict everywhere it'll be.
Same here.
He knew the muscle car's path, speed, starting spot.
Predict where this guy would be in 0.1 seconds...!
Don't try this without Superhuman.
Next instant.
Jin blinked into existence above, landing precariously on the muscle car's roof as it rushed beneath his feet.
Of course, no time for style points.
At that speed. He flattened like a frog, barely avoiding a tumble, and crawled forward hair whipping.
Once in position.
He swung his clenched fist wide.
CRASH!!
Fist shattered the window, smashing the driver's face hard—
HoooNK!!
The guys spotted their comrade slumped over the horn and finally yelled.
"Whoa! Fuck!"
"What the—!"
Ignoring the predictable screams, Jin grabbed the wheel.
Accelerator already floored by the unconscious driver—he just steered across lanes.
THUD!
The truck slammed the parallel muscle car, body rocking wildly.
"Kuh!"
"Urk!"
As passengers lurched every which way.
The loudmouth in the back passenger seat racked his rifle and aimed.
"Die, you little-dick!"
But Jin blinked to the seat beside him and grabbed the barrel first—faster than the muzzle flash.
The delayed shot fired wildly in the confined space, regardless of the owner's will—
Rat-tat-tat-tat!!
Blood sprayed like fireworks, painting the whole interior red, front and back glass.
"Holy fuck!"
The loudmouth yanked the trigger late, eyes bulging at the carnage he'd unleashed.
Crack!
Jin punched his face and looked up.
Guardrail incoming.
BOOM!!
The muscle car launched into the air with a roar, sailing dozens of meters in an arc before slamming ground.
Crunch! Bang! Crash!!
The heavy chassis tumbled over and over, finally engulfed in flames and halting.
Jin, clinging to a streetlight pole like a cicada, looked down at the scene.
"Ugh."
Last thing he saw was that guy.
Gambled on the move and it worked, somehow.
He slid down the pole, feet hitting pavement, wiped blood from his face with his hand, muttering.
"...Missed one."
Original plan: Blink inside the other car when they collided.
But the psycho hosing with the rifle threw it off.
"Tch. Close."
As Jin wrinkled his nose.
...Rat-tat!
...Rat-tat-tat!
Sporadic gunfire echoed from the edge of vision far off.
Natasha finally caught up to, huh.
Still, he'd done what he could.
Jin thought that and trudged toward the noise.
Then suddenly, the gunfire cut off—
How much time passed?
A familiar cargo truck appeared in the opposite lane.
Honking wildly.
"Hey."
Jin greeted the truck as it slowed beside him.
A friendly reply came back.
"Hey? You fucking crazy?"
Was it a rest stop? Or some half-built thing?
Anyway, they parked in a small empty lot of unclear purpose.
Natasha, who'd gripped the wheel a moment, turned to Jin.
"You... what the..."
Her words trailed off.
She mumbled without finishing, lips flapping uselessly, then let out a deep sigh.
"Let's get out first. Details later."
Soon Jin and Natasha stood side by side at the cargo hold.
As Jin crossed his arms and waited, Natasha undid the padlock and flung the doors wide.
Empty interior.
A bound man inside.
He winced at the sudden light, then spotted Natasha and started thrashing with muffled mmphs!—looked like a fish flopping on land to Jin.
"Guy's full of energy."
"Tell me about it."
Natasha climbed in, ripping off the black tape over his mouth—and curses exploded like they'd been waiting.
"You fucking bitch! You think you'll get away with this?"
"Kevin, calm down."
"Calm? Calm my ass. Guess you haven't figured it out yet. Soon my guys'll..."
Kevin—the man whose face she grabbed roughly.
Natasha glared and said.
"Kevin. This is why you can't escape third-rate linker status. Where'd you sell your common sense? What good are ears if you didn't hear the gunshots? Why do you think I opened the doors, huh?"
Jin tilted his head.
The scammer's a linker?
Then...
Jin eyed Kevin and Natasha alternately, slotting "linker" and "solo" into his mental three-line summary, mulling it over.
"Keep yelling if you're so sure. Should be fun."
Leaving the low warning, Natasha released his face.
Kevin worked his sore jaw—then muttered softly.
"Fuck... how the hell..."
Miserable mutter.
Natasha slowly spoke.
"Listen up, Kevin. I could sell you to Sector 48 as is. But that wouldn't balance my books. So here's your chance. Cough up all the money you scammed from me now. Then I won't make you a slave."
"Too bad. I'm broke. Don't believe me? Skip the office search here."
"Sigh. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin."
Natasha shook her head wearily.
"Why make me repeat the obvious? Let's make it easy. Location of the stash. Password too."
Kevin snorted.
"Bullshit. You hit your head? Why would I tell you? Huh? What do I get?"
"Your life."
"Fuck that. Kill me."
"Classic third-rate. Gotta show your dirty side, huh?"
As Natasha reached into her jacket, Kevin bared his teeth.
"Gonna torture me? Go ahead. Pain sensors off—won't feel a thing."
What?
You can toggle pain on/off?
Jin reeled at the bombshell.
Ow!
Sudden sharp pain near his heart.
Crackle! Crackle! Sparks flew from his optic, conveying a silent message.
"What's wrong?"
Natasha turned, following the hand on her shoulder.
Her eyes caught Jin holding up his index finger, sparks dancing around it.
"Step aside. Let me try."