The Reek of Chrome Psycho
I've heard plenty in movies and novels about how the stench of rotting corpses is utterly vile. But I'd never smelled it for real. The world Soo lived in didn't overflow with bodies left to rot.
"Ugh..."
This place was that kind of world. Somewhere between sickly sweet and fishy rot. A sour, stinging assault that stabbed at my nose. Like rotting meat pickled in honey—pure nightmare fuel. Sweet at first, then clawing at your throat with acidity. The kind of stench any living thing instinctively recoils from.
"Urk..."
Soo's tail, which she'd been hiding so well until now, slipped out involuntarily. It trembled and stiffened—proof the smell was no joke. Even Enoch, who'd sniffed out countless corpses, couldn't keep his face straight. No need to say more.
But Enoch didn't grimace. Couldn't let his face slip in front of a rookie starting merc work today. It'd kill his cred. Truth be told, he was a bit—just a bit—used to it. Over the past year of cleanups, he'd caught whiffs of rotting flesh plenty of times. He smoothed his expression and locked eyes with Soo, whose face was subtly twisted.
"Hmph."
Then he smirked and stepped forward.
"If you're gonna merc, better get used to smells like this."
"You okay, Enoch?"
"Fine."
"Oh."
"Hmph."
Enoch smirked again, messaged the connector that they'd arrived, and scanned the building interior. Couldn't ID the source of the blue smoke, but the target had clearly killed a ton of people. Puddles of blood congealing on the floor screamed it. The gut-wrenching innard stink cutting through the rot confirmed it. This psycho didn't just kill people and animals—he wore it like a badge of honor.
That's why he shoved it up the cat, Enoch thought with a click of his tongue, glancing at Soo. How old was she? Looked barely 18 at most. Dry-heaving right away at the stench? Rookie through and through.
Worrying about her...
Pointless? Overstepping? She seemed young and green, but considering her raw power and how she'd handled Calchas's corpse...
Just gotta handle my end.
Enoch watched Soo stroll up casually, gave his gear a final check, and moved out.
"No need for you to step in."
Enoch lowered his voice; Soo whispered back.
"You got this solo?"
"Yeah. I took this gig—and a partner—gotta show I earn my keep."
"Heard confidence is a one-way ticket to the afterlife for mercs."
"Not confidence."
Enoch checked the connector's reply and continued.
"Embarrassing to say in front of you, but what I bring is certainty."
Countless cleanups, zero failures. Every job clean, no loose ends. This one would be no different. Low-rank merc drudgery, just trash disposal—but Enoch could say it proudly. Against things that'd ditched their humanity for garbage, he never slipped.
"So this time... show... my... skills..."
"Enoch?"
Enoch's cool pose froze solid.
"Something wrong?"
"Hold on."
A phone rang in his head. After a brief hesitation, Enoch linked Soo to the line and picked up.
Soo's eyes went wide at the sudden woman's voice. Enoch held a finger to his lips and replied tensely.
"Not a merc—Enoch."
Grade 6. Bottom of the 1-to-7 Chrome Psycho scale. Seemed minor, but it took three ECPD squads—six armed cops—to kill one. Double that for capture.
Enoch and Soo locked eyes. Not enough time together for wordless chats usually, but now? Crystal.
Extra pay.
Job's totally changed.
At least 5x.
Chrome Psycho's beyond us two.
Play it right, snag follow-up gigs.
Megacorps might be involved.
End it quick.
Fall back now.
They nodded like they agreed. But their minds raced different tracks. Splat—Soo stepped forward; Enoch backpedaled.
"No."
The word slipped out. That nod wasn't retreat? Straight charge instead? At a Grade 6 Chrome Psycho, possibly megacorp-backed?
"Not talking to you—"
Enoch cut off. Far off, a staggering figure lurched their way.
"Hah."
It spotted Enoch. One step, two, three. Four. A hulking brute, clearly unhinged, charged. Beyond normal human speed. No reinforced tendons could match it. Neural accel implant—Hod. A Chrome Psycho.
Could run, but civilians would die. Worse, letting it loose implicated Enoch. Had to end it here.
"Target Hakon Chase confirmed. No retreat."
"Engaging."
Right as the curse flew. Current surged down Enoch's spine. Hod fired—electricity raced through muscles, veins, bones, nerves. Instant. By the time he registered, it soaked his brain.
Crackle—lightning split his vision.
And.
This... is insane.
Everything slowed. Near-stopped. Floating dust motes crystal clear. Hakon's charge, fist cocked, crawled. Blindingly fast before; now, yawn-worthy.
Body move? Dodge that punch?
Enoch tested. Moved flawlessly. In this frozen world, he sidestepped two paces, grabbed the fist.
No way I lose.
God-tier performance. Same Hod user, yet this gap? Awe—and fear. Abuse this, and he'd end up like charging Hakon.
Too late for regrets.
Chose to fight inhuman trash. Staying human was greed. Enoch's fist cracked Hakon's cheek. Heavy impact; brute reeled.
Damn, my hand hurts more.
Thick subdermal armor. Fine. Joints stayed thin. Enoch swept Hakon's ankle, drove an elbow into his shoulder, uppercut the throat.
Thud—messy head snapped back. Enoch went for the eyes next.
Failed. Blood exploded from Hakon's eyes, nose, mouth. Hod overload side-effect. But speed ramped—now matching Enoch's crawl.
Ducked the haymaker. Wind from it fluttered his collar. That would've shattered his jaw.
Fine. Enoch still faster. Ankle sweep again. Feint-throw a knife to keep distance. Drew his Moonlight from the holster, aimed at the eye. Armor elsewhere; eyes perfect for lead.
Finger on trigger—
Tap. Gray ripples.
In a world only Enoch should move in, Soo sauntered forward. Leisurely gait. Double his speed.
Bonus gig locked.
Soo lip-synced it to Enoch, extended her hand.
Crunch.
Hod timed out. Top-model; cut off smoothly, no strain. Unnecessary mercy.
Enoch missed what Soo did. Just... limbs mangled, out cold Chrome Psycho Hakon Chase.
Enoch snapped a pic of KO'd Hakon, sent "Job complete."
Irina cut off.
"Grade 6 Chrome Psycho, Hakon Chase. Non-lethal takedown complete... pic."
Enoch eyed Soo. She beamed and nodded.
"...I'm not a merc—I'm Enoch."
Finally. Called by name. A man known only as "merc" till now, Enoch for the first time.
"...Yeah, got it."
Irina Tish Morozova. Solid mid-tier connector. Her remembering his name? Big win.
Soo, who knew her, flashed double thumbs-up. Enoch burst out laughing, raised a battered thumb in reply.