2195 Apartheid (9)
Thud... thud.... In the silent, pure white corridor reminiscent of a corporate lab, the only sounds echoing were the footsteps of the four of us, myself included. In truth, even combining the noise from the other three wouldn't match a single Omen.... But anyway.
The suppression team we'd entered with kept splitting up at every junction until... eventually, they were all gone, leaving just us behind. Even with just Nocturne and Omen, it was plenty solid, so I had no complaints, but seeing the state of the enemies inside made it hard to let my guard down.
Ching--!!
"!! Where do you think you're--...!"
A bullet fired as quietly as if it had a silencer was casually deflected by Omen at the front. Using that reliable shield as cover, Domino slipped his pistol into the gap between arm and side and returned fire in kind.
Pfshk...!
The round from his pistol nearly severed the wrist of the enemy gripping his gun. But the guy who should have been writhing in agony just giggled creepily and reached for the dropped weapon with his remaining hand.
"Hee... hee hee!!"
"...Fuck, another one?"
Spotting the unhinged laughter from the thug, Domino unhesitatingly put a hole in his forehead too. Even if he wanted to grab him and torture out the boss's location, there was no point with them in that state.
"Hup!!"
Crack--! Bam!!
This time, our shield moved on his own to swat away a guy who leaped out from around the corner wielding what looked like a sashimi knife. It wasn't just a simple underhand swing from below--the sheer physical force was monstrous... As payback for picking the wrong side to fight on, the guy's body was instantly slammed into the ceiling. You could call it a mangled mess of flesh and ribs, but the arm still clutching the knife twitched even up there.
"......Painkillers must've advanced a fuckton since...?"
"This is......"
Horacio whistled in admiration, but my mind was busy piecing together the scenes we'd seen so far with memories from my male days in the archive.
...Now it's starting to click. Numbed reason, the judgment to leap out of buildings without hesitation, combatants who don't feel pain. No wonder they kept charging in those situations--these bastards developed a drug perfectly suited to their organization name.
But? On the flip side...... I felt a bit relieved.
In Neo Haven, among the consumables, there was PK-452, what users casually called a stimpak--a doping item. That syringe full of blue liquid, sold by back-alley dealers or in Paradise Corp shops, removed movement speed penalties from injuries, so everyone used it. As for the PK prefix? With Paradise, the corp that tentacles into every aspect of human life... There were tons of guesses like Paradise something... But who would've thought it was ripped from Painkiller and slapped on as a memento...?
......Fucking evil.
Still, thanks to that, I finally realized for sure that this mission had succeeded in history even without me. Meaning, as long as I don't fuck up, it's guaranteed to end smoothly...!
With a much lighter heart, I advanced while watching the occasional rushing enemies get cleaned up.
How deep had we gone when something different appeared in the bland corridor?
"Oh? Finally a proper room...? Ivory sis, if you please!"
"...It's not Ivory, my name is Anastasia. Anastasia Valentin! Stop teasing me...!!"
"!! Anastasia... Anastasia... Asha? Asha sis!! A name as pretty as your eyes and heart!!"
"......Didn't we agree to use nicknames during missions...!"
Omen scolded the overexcited Horacio. But... coming from a mercenary whose name is basically a nickname, it lacked conviction, I thought.
For now, I placed my hand on the keypad next to the firmly shut sliding door and fed in a signal. Expecting security on par with the facility's exterior--firewalls and all--I cautiously summoned my mental world.
Just like how the crude virus from the laptop manifested as a bug, cyber defenses against intruders could take all sorts of bizarre forms. So, stay calm, prepare, and wait......
Something's off here...?
"The lock's already disengaged. Be careful."
"......"
I wasn't the only one thinking it was an obvious trap. After confirming Domino, whose drug effects had worn off, inhaled a hefty dose of combat stim, Horacio and Omen exchanged glances and nodded.
Bam--!!
Entry was swift and precise. The door, struck dead-on by the gauntlet, flew straight into the opposite wall. Horacio, who'd been standing back with hands clasped, flashed in like lightning, followed by Domino with pistols in both hands.
"Hoo......"
It was ridiculous, having to hunker down in the corner, holding my breath and just waiting for the victory report. I wanted to provide covering fire, but keeping up with combat at that speed... I was still way too green.
"Whoa...!! We got first place after all? Dusk old man! Fuck, it's been ages? Huh?? Business seems to be booming too!"
"......I'd love to hear your dying thoughts from those kids you had running drug errands."
...Dusk? The mission target? Peeking through the gap beside Omen, who was blocking the doorway, I glanced inside.
There... stacks of boxes full of glowing blue syringes, all sorts of test tubes, and... a fat Black man lounging on a luxurious yet tacky red sofa, surrounded by quadruped guard droids.
Even with mercenaries right in his face, after all the sacrifices, Dusk strutted like he was hot shit. The two facing the boss were visibly thrilled at the chance to settle old grudges.
"...The defeated dog trio."
"What...?"
He lit a cigarette with deliberate flair. Inhaling deeply... then spewing rhetoric amid the smoke.
"...Overflowing manpower, ample credits, and above all, the dream drug that erases all pain...!! I can't fathom why trash from this district lacks ambition! With this foundation, rising to next-gen mega corp wouldn't be a pipe dream, if only you hadn't... all ruined it!!"
"“......”"
Foul spit flew everywhere, his fat hands pounding the armrests and drug crates. And mistaking their silence for persuasion working, his logic bloated with lowly superiority complex droned on.
"Yellow or green-rated humans are doomed to corporate exploitation their whole lives anyway! With ammo factories... food plants... crammed at the bottom. So if all we demand in exchange for easing that brutal pain is loyalty and a bit of credits, isn't it perfect?! So... work for me again, and I'll give you more credits than your mercenary scraps! ......That woman outside the door would look perfect by my side too."
...What a fucking prick. Not just any prick, but a blathering, delusional, filthy-dreaming moron. Hard to believe this asshole nearly caused a massacre...
Not even corporate strike teams, not proxy agents weighing cost-efficiency--a small fry like this overstepping without knowing his place? Ah, fine. Giving up his men as sacrifices, that tactic and mindset was corporate-esque. He didn't see people as people.
But... this pig lacked fundamental power, the charisma to sway thousands, the insight to grasp harsh reality.
...And crucially, he couldn't read the room.
"““Fuck off, you retard.”””
"......Regrettable."
Whirr...!
The guard droids, previously inert, activated, and hurried footsteps echoed from down the hall. Wondered what the suppression teams were up to--guess there were still tons of drugged underlings scattered around.
"Ivory, I'll handle outside, you go in."
"......Can't I just hide behind you?"
The room was decently spacious, but safer than where two murder-droids were powering up... wouldn't my back be better...?
I gave what I thought was a logical reply to Omen's warning about reinforcements, but his eyes soured like he'd heard something amusing.
"Horacio... you can trust him in a real fight. It'll be fine."
......That perverted cabbage bastard? For real? As Omen gently pushed my body with distrust brimming in a fierce glare, a green beam forced my head to turn from behind.
"I was gonna score points with Asha sis and show off a bit... But Dusk, you piece of trash can't be allowed another minute alive.... Go die to that lowlife you ignored--!!"
His flippant tone remained, but his face twisted in savage rage. Tattoos across his body--all cyberware body enhancements?--glowed blindingly, piercings and even that ridiculous mohawk sparked with crackling electricity.
Back at the hotel when I was gonna bash his head, why'd he implant metal in his hair...? I just dodged in bewilderment and hit elsewhere, but turns out every bit was external circuitry...? No wonder the electric attacks leaked everywhere and didn't land!!
> External threat immediate response system activated.
> Eliminating cause.
A dry mechanical voice rang out as the metal arm and attached gun barrel aimed. But Domino's pistol, drawn in an instant, jammed a round into the droid's barrel.
Bang!! Crang!!
The large-caliber bullet, barreling backward precisely, blew one droid arm apart like a balloon. Then, with sudden acceleration, a razor-edged arm swung at the exposed gunman--but preheating wasn't just for the guard droid.
The swung arm was caught and yanked by green lightning with a zzzt!!. Kicking back the spider legs retreating after registering the loss crushed the axis supporting the heavy chassis in that direction.
Lightning's name: Daredevil, he who even fears the devil. A madman who'd followed my game guide in reality: "Fix lacking physical stats with implants bought with cash."
> ......Threat level raised to maximum.
> Annihilation mode activated.
> Escort target, please evacuate externally.
The pig's face paled like a junkie, his sunglasses slipping down.
......Look at that loser.