Novapolis Slums (4)
From what I'd seen and what Raven had told me, the Grave Neon gang conducted their "deals" on a regular schedule. I had no idea exactly what they were trading, but it was definitely something shady. So how did they receive their goods? Unless they were producing it right here in the slums—which my thorough search over the past few days had ruled out—they had to be getting it from outside.
Of course, no production facilities or hideouts turned up in my sweeps. They were definitely importing from external sources. But how? No way it was helicopters or planes—the noise alone would draw massive attention every time they landed. Overland was too risky too; demon beasts lurked on the mainland, and convoys would be prime targets for ambushes. And they sure as hell weren't wasting high-end teleportation devices on every smuggling run.
That left just one option: ships. C City was a coastal hub, after all. A boat could pull right up, offload the cargo in secret, and vanish into the sea if things went south. Ruling out official docks with records, spots too rough for anchoring, and heavily patrolled areas narrowed it down to one perfect candidate: this shoreline.
It was small, barely marked on maps. The surrounding waters were so shallow no monsters lurked, and surveillance was light. We were hunkered down under a massive boulder near a cliff overlooking the coast.
Glancing up, I saw it was deep night—faint moonlight, overall darkness.
Perfect night for smuggling, I thought.
"You sure we should keep waiting here? It's been three hours already," Lien said from beside me, peering at the coast through night-vision goggles.
"Their schedule lines up for tonight. And this is the only spot that makes sense for a drop."
"What if it's not tonight?"
"Then my intel's wrong, we pull back, and try again tomorrow."
Lien pouted but returned to her goggles. I got why she was skeptical—blind faith in unconfirmed hunches wasn't reassuring—but there was no helping it. If I were the smuggler, no place beat this shore. Sure, other spots might work, but none seemed better. Above all, my gut screamed this was it. And that instinct was the clincher.
-Whoosh.
The night sea was calm. The briny, fishy tang of the coast filled my nostrils. I closed my eyes, channeling all my senses into my ears. The world faded, sounds flooding in.
How long had it been?
-Splash.
"!"
It hit me clear as day—not waves, but something man-made.
"They're coming. Stay sharp."
"Huh?"
I pressed a finger to my lips. Lien got it, holding her breath.
-Splash, splash.
Definite. Something moving across the water. Moments later, a silhouette emerged from the dark: a small boat, engine nearly silent—probably fitted with a muffler.
It crept forward, halting just offshore.
"Why stop there?"
"They're walking the rest of the way, looks like."
No sooner said than several dark shapes slipped from the boat into the water, bags in hand.
Jackpot. Smugglers confirmed.
"Eek."
Lien's head jerked up—I shoved it down, keeping us low. The dark figures waded the shallows onto the shore, movements practiced. Pros, not rookies.
I scanned the coastline. No welcoming party yet. But they'd show soon. No way they'd just drop the goods and ghost—especially if it was valuable.
Sure enough, four shadows burst from the coastal brush below. Grave Neon, most likely. Lien swallowed hard.
"Those guys... Grave Neon?"
"Probably."
They exchanged gestures and brief words; the wetsuit guys handed over the bags. Deal on.
"What now?" Lien whispered right in my ear.
"Hm..."
I pondered. Could rush them now—I'd take four no sweat and snag the bags easy. But they'd shut down ops, switch routes. Dragging this out wouldn't help me or Lien.
"We tail them. That direction's gotta be their hideout. Boss'll be there. Time to move."
I rose slowly; Lien nodded, convinced, and followed.
Below, they split—the bag carriers vanishing into the woods.
"Quiet tail. Keep distance, no noise."
"...Got it."
Track to the hideout. Wipe 'em all in one go.
We'd tailed at a safe distance for a good half-hour when the woods thinned, slums proper ahead. The lead bag guy kept glancing around warily. Paranoid, but my Stealthy Steps kept us ghosts.
Then a rundown building ahead. They approached, opened the door, slipped in.
Abandoned factory? Nothing there.
I'd scoped it days ago during hideout hunts—empty shell, no signs of life.
Switch spots per deal? Works for me.
I vaguely recalled the layout: open central floor, second-level railings and stairs along the walls. No basement. I etched it mentally, signaling Lien behind me.
"Saw 'em go in? Follow."
She nodded, sticking close. We crept up silent as shadows.
......!
Closing in, two strong presences inside. Superhumans, likely. One's the boss.
That thrill hit after so long—heart pounding, nerves electric, hands itching. Deep breath, focus.
"That their hideout?"
"Nah, temp deal spot. Two supers inside—one's the boss."
Lien lit up at "boss," then schooled her face.
"...So now what?"
"What else? Stealth ambush."
My sweep caught a perfect entry: second-floor window, cracked near shattering. About five meters up. Dim light leakage—minimal interior lamps. Ideal.
I pulled Lien close, pointed.
"See that window?"
"Yeah."
"You go there. Front's too exposed."
"What about you, Kyle?"
"Me? Heh..."
Old me would've teamed up through the window—safer then, no choice. Smart play: they'd never expect it, less prep for ambush.
But... why bother?
No urge to play it safe now. I could barely hold back from charging.
"I'm going front door."
"What?! Too risky—we don't even know what's inside!"
"It's fine. Nothing I can't handle."
No more talk needed. Time to move.
I kicked off the ground.
-Whoosh!
Muscles contracted, exploded—power surged. Air screamed as I blasted forward. Speed I hadn't touched since the container ship. Chains shattered, body ablaze. Vision tunneled, noise faded—only the door existed.
Distance vanished. I leaped, mid-air focus to toes, slam—dropped a full-power kick into the door.
-BOOM!!
Rusted metal buckled without resistance, hinges ripping, sheet folding inward amid thunderous echoes sweeping the factory.
"What—!"
"Ambush!!"
Screams erupted inside. I landed rolling through the wreckage, low and scanning: central space lit sparse, bags on the floor yonder, six around them. Farther back, two radiating different auras—one hulking, one eyepatched.
-Thud!
Whip out tentacles, smash the nearest, charge.
?
Odd feedback—like hitting solid metal. Glancing: torn flesh revealed crumpled silver frame beneath, sparks flying from joints.
I clocked it, grinned surveying them: faceless.
Androids. This just got fun.
-Crash.
Second-floor glass shattered faintly—Lien.
"These bastards are androids!! Cut loose!!"
"! Right!"
Lien vaulted the railing down as I said it. I shrugged off charging bots, pushed forward—tentacles whipped two too slow for my pace.
"Grahk!"
"Agh!"
Bodies parted easy—humans. No holds barred now.
-Thud! Thud!
The big superhuman charged. Body-enhancer type. I grinned, met him head-on. Fists flew—dodge his to the jaw, plant mine in his chin.
-Thwack!
Solid impact, heavy recoil up my arm—like steel frame. He staggered one step, didn't drop. Planted feet, lowered, muscles bulging unnaturally—something writhed under skin.
Stronger than that cyborg boss. I stepped in laughing.
-Bam!
Concrete cracked, shards flew—his recoil launched him like a shell. Straight-line fast. But telegraphed. I twisted aside, smashed ribs.
-Crunch!
Hit landed true, but shallow.
"Grk—!"
He swung clenched fist—air whooshed. Powerhouse. I seized the arm, yanked him in—knee to ribs, then fist to gut. He reeled back.
"......"
Tough nut. Might take time. Berserk would end it quick, but hold off—five minutes max, save for bosses.
Then peripheral: eyepatch grabbing bags, fleeing. The boss. Can't let him slip—slum rat in the wilds? Nightmare to track. Gotta end this fast.
No choice.
Berserk lv.1
-Crunch.
Muscles swelled, explosive power flooded every fiber. Omnipotence surged—I could crush worlds.
-BOOM!
Insane speed screamed air; I rocketed forward. He panicked, raised guard. Useless.
-Crack!
Fist met arm—massive impact. Forearm snapped aside, stance crumbled. Thrust right, fire thickened tentacle-fist. Combined velocity tore air.
-Splorch!!
"Gahk...!"
Swarm Tentacles lv.4 → lv.5
Tentacle-fist pierced chest. Heart burst feedback raced up my arm. Dead.
Yanked free, flung corpse—smashed a bot fighting Lien, sent it flying.
"Handle the rest! I'm chasing the boss!!"
"Got it!"
Lien's voice faded behind as I bolted after the boss. Scenery blurred at vision's edge.
Precious EXP. No letting it escape.