The junkie trembled violently, his arm—shot clean through—shuddering as he moved.
The junkie trembled violently, his arm—shot clean through—shuddering as he moved.
The tip of his finger pointed to a single drawer beneath the chair where he sat.
Ransel fired without hesitation toward the outstretched arm.
Bang!
The finger was severed as if cut by lightning.
"Kuaaaaaaaaah!!!"
"Again. Where exactly?"
The junkie pointed at a different spot, still trembling.
Ransel shot him in the palm.
Bang! The trembling arm swung wildly, then hung limp.
Ransel pulled the trigger repeatedly, but the magazine was empty.
Without further thought, she pressed the smoking barrel to the man's tongue.
The stench of burning flesh filled the air.
"It was a lie from the start…!!!!"
"So you were lying even before. High chance you set a trap here too. Was there a listening device or a bomb in the direction you pointed?"
Ransel had no intention of believing a word from this back-alley trash.
After being cheated once, why would she trust him twice?
She pinched the charred tongue between her index and thumb, then yanked it forward.
Drawing mana into her fingertips, a blue glow erupted.
It wrapped around currents, flashing as it plunged into the man's body.
Fast! Crackle!
A thunderclap of lightning struck. The man convulsed violently for three full seconds.
Ransel withdrew the current, then smirked.
Her enhanced Bolt was no longer a simple killing method; it had long since become second nature.
She had no trouble using it to torture rather than kill.
"Now, ask again. Where is the suppressant?"
She searched the man's pocket and found a month's supply of the medicine.
Whether it worked or not, more was always better.
She dumped the unconscious man and kept walking.
Yellow fluid dripped between his legs.
'Was I too rough?'
A flicker of guilt appeared, then vanished.
These were the kinds of people who had aimed guns at her for the medicine.
Even if she had handed over the System willingly, would they have let her keep only her auxiliary device?
No. She was certain they were not that kind of person.
If she had given them something that wasn't even real, they would have killed her without hesitation.
After the System became reality and she had fought on countless battlefields, Ransel finally understood the truth of this world.
The weak are stolen from, the strong steal. This was a world of survival of the fittest.
She didn't deny it, and she certainly didn't object.
The trait she had added wanted exactly this, and Ransel had no intention of avoiding the fight.
She left the idiot behind, already half-mad from blood loss.
Living like this meant death; better to die stupidly than alive?
She sighed and picked up the shotgun he had dropped.
"Farewell, junkie."
Boom!
Dozens of holes riddled the man's head. He died instantly.
Ransel felt a slight queasy.
She had been merciless, but she had killed an innocent man.
She had no regret about murder; in fact, she enjoyed it.
Her personality, twisted by the trait, no longer felt guilt.
She was here only for cleanup.
'If I leave now, the data will remain.'
She had suspected this when she learned gangs were stockpiling suppressants.
He had mentioned that other gangs attacked the boss, but that wasn't enough.
Many clues remained.
The corpses weren't from other gangs; they were hers.
If she left without cleaning up, the truth would come out.
What then?
Ransel could easily predict what would follow.
She approached the guard whose temple had been shot.
Blood still flowed as he lay frozen.
He had rolled around with his leg broken, then taken a bullet to the head.
She searched his clothes without hesitation.
If he was a member of a major gang, he would have the emblem.
She stripped the man and found a tattoo on his chest: crossed knives and a skull.
Across the empty eye sockets of the skull ran the name "Decatio."
No matter how many organizations were involved, at least two had joined the war.
Decatio and another gang.
The moment she realized that, her next move was clear.
She reloaded the pistol and walked toward the counter, firing a few bullets into the emaciated man.
Next, she pulled out the knife and disfigured the body as messily as possible.
She repeated the act, then rearranged the corpses to look like a large-scale raid had happened.
She set Bolt on fire to burn the evidence and fake it.
As logically as possible, so any situation could be deduced.
Next, Ransel called Darin.
Darin's voice crackled over the phone.
"How can a dead man… wait, no. Ransel? This is the first time you're calling. Why?"
"It looks like gangs in the 50s are preparing to fight each other. Do you have any information?"
"If it's a place getting ready for a war lately… ah, Decatio?"
"And the other side?"
"A newly formed gang. Name is probably… ah, here it is. Feratic."
Darin sent a few photos from her device.
Ransel opened them. Three distant shots of the Feratic gang.
She studied the gang members' faces.
She didn't know which gang came first or which was stronger.
All she knew was the names and their symbols.
To manipulate the situation more favorably for herself, she needed to know who was stronger.
She sat on the guard's body, playing with the shell casings, then spoke again.
"Do you have any information on who leads Decatio?"
"I don't know what you're doing right now, but… it doesn't matter. Wait a second."
Through the phone came the sound of paper rustling.
While waiting, Ransel slowly descended the stairs and locked the entrance firmly.
Since she had silenced the noise, almost no one had noticed the commotion yet.
But she couldn't be sure. A patient or customer might still enter.
She returned inside the hospital, pulled a chair, and sat.
"Name, Zailos Paromeden. Former military officer with physical abilities. Left the special unit and started the Decatio gang in District 54. Until recently he was selling cyberware and drugs."
"Until recently? So what is he doing now?"
"Preparing for war with Feratic. The conflict started when they clashed over drug distribution. This time it finally exploded."
"Who do you think will win, Darin?"
"Hmm… I think Feratic. It's newly formed, so its power is weak, but rumor has it their leader is Level 6."
"I see… Thank you."
'Decided. Betting on the mysterious friends called Feratic.'
Ransel hung up and looked around.
Though called neutral ground, this place was still likely to be raided by Feratic.
She had made escape holes just in case.
Strengthening her vision with mana, she thoroughly searched the hospital interior.
After several minutes of searching, Ransel realized there was a secret space behind the counter.
She cleared the stacks of boxes blocking the path and opened the wooden door on the floor.
Thick dust billowed out, obscuring her view.
She waved her hand to clear it, then spread mana beneath the door to check the space.
She lit a Bolt to provide light.
A staircase led down into the area.
At the bottom, faint dripping water echoed.
'It connects to the sewers. Lucky.'
She made her decision quickly and set the hospital on fire.
She sprayed fire everywhere, filling the place with carbon dioxide and intense heat in seconds.
Covering her nose with her sleeve, she slipped inside the hole the junkie had made.
Above her head, the wooden door slammed shut.
Creak! Thud!