Chapter 14. Crimson Fang (3)
Episode 14. Red Awl (3)
Louis Dykken's expression was complicated. It was only natural—the half-wit he'd dismissed, Sion Karsen, had discovered a secret passageway absent from factory blueprints and undetectable by their scanners.
And then there were his final words:
"No matter how closely you watch, you can't observe every single move. So you go. You ask. You listen. You search."
The words had struck him like a dagger to the heart.
'Did I truly misjudge him? Did the lord assign him some extraordinary mentor?'
In truth, Sion had no such teacher. But the weight of the Karsen name made anything seem possible.
'Then his recent actions... they're genuine too?'
A ripple disturbed the still waters of his mind. But now wasn't the time—they were in the middle of an operation. Forcing down his thoughts, Louis barked orders.
"All teams, move in. Stay alert."
This time, he didn't tell Sion to wait outside. Sion naturally fell in line behind the agents.
The cement factory floor jutted upward at unnatural angles, revealing a steep, darkened staircase beneath—just wide enough for a grown man to squeeze through. A damp, chilly air seeped from below.
Louis led the agents into the gloom. With mana enhancing their vision, complete darkness wasn't an issue.
Sion descended last, running a hand along the walls. They were lined with some undetectable material—strange for a mere criminal syndicate, but now wasn't the time to dwell on it.
After descending about two stories, they reached a wider space dimly lit by scattered lanterns. A single door stood ahead. Louis stepped forward and pushed it open.
Creak—
"Ugh."
"Gods—"
"...Hell."
Groans and curses spilled from the agents. The scene before them was nothing short of hell itself.
Iron-barred cells held naked women wrapped in rags, their vacant eyes suggesting heavy drugging. The adjacent room was lined with male corpses—chests to abdomens sliced open, blood still fresh.
But the most stomach-churning sight was the refrigerated shelves displaying neatly packaged organs.
The stench—chemicals, blood, excrement—assaulted their noses.
Was this truly hell?
To think ordinary citizens were kidnapped and subjected to this...
"Now I see why Red Awl delayed their escape," Louis muttered.
Men butchered for organs. Women broken mentally for easier transport.
The agents approached the cells with grim faces—only for a man to burst from the rags, a shotgun in hand.
"Die, you bastards!"
A Red Awl lieutenant, hiding among the hostages after sensing trouble.
BANG!
Dozens of pellets scattered through the tight space. Against a normal gun, they might've dodged. But a shotgun in close quarters? Impossible.
The agents braced, reinforcing their bodies with mana. Even apprentice knights could survive a few shots by shielding their heads and hearts.
Then—
Whoosh!
Something shot across the floor.
Clang! Screech!
In the blink of an eye—
A bizarre series of sounds echoed.
Every agent who'd blocked pellets looked up, cautious not to move recklessly—both for the hostages' safety and to prepare for another volley.
But then—
Thud. Roll—
"......!"
The gunman's head hit the ground. A geyser of blood erupted from his neck as Sion Karsen stood beside the corpse, calmly draping rags over the women.
One thought filled the agents' minds: When? How?
He'd dodged scattered pellets, cleaved through iron bars, and beheaded the man—all between the shotgun's blast and reload.
Louis's pupils trembled. The ripple in his mind surged into a wave.
Yet at that moment—
"...Ghk!"
Three agents spat blood—arm, flank, leg.
"...Special rounds," one gritted out.
Louis nodded. Even to a full-fledged knight like him, the shotgun's power was formidable. Picking up a spent pellet, he sensed faint mana at its core—the reason it pierced the agents.
Were these criminals really producing anti-knight weaponry now? Fury rose—and with it, more questions.
How had Sion dodged them all?
Casualties might've occurred without him. And then—
"Drink these. They're expensive, so don't waste them."
Sion tossed three green potions from his coat. The agents stared dumbfounded, but he'd already moved on, examining the women's vacant stares.
"Drugged, but not life-threatening. They'll need hospital transport."
His actions were seamless—like a veteran who'd seen countless battles or a master strategist.
Louis ordered, "Tend your wounds. I'll call the cleanup team."
The agents snapped to attention. Unconsciously, Louis had stopped treating Sion as deadweight.
By the time Louis left, the agents murmured, "...Thank you."
"Don't. I just need you operational for the next phase."
Sion absently examined the shotgun's engraving:
[POST IRON: GENERATION 0]
Post Iron.
He clicked his tongue. A name he knew from his past life—a traitorous corporation that would later side with the demon race.
'Already active, huh?'
His eyes glinted sharply. The three agents memorized that look.
As Knight Bwindol's team surveilled Jefren's hideout, Louis's squad arrived.
Bwindol signaled: [Status?]
It wasn't small talk. Knowing Louis's disdain for Sion, he was asking if they'd secured evidence without incident.
Louis signaled back, stone-faced: [Enemies use mana bullets. Likely officers only. Extreme caution advised.]
[...Casualties?]
[None.]
A lie—or rather, no longer true. Sion's potions had staunched bleeding instantly, restoring combat readiness.
[Layout?]
[Confirmed. Power cut prepared. Entry time?]
[After Team 3 arrives. Swift.]
[Understood.]
Bwindol noted Louis's unusual demeanor. 'Something happened with Sion. I'll ask post-op.'
Soon, Team 3 arrived after securing their target. A brief debrief later, the assault began.
Every agent advanced.
Not one was left behind.
Click—
A metallic ping echoed as the factory's power died. Fans whirred to a halt; lights blinked out.
Darkness fell.
"The hell?! Restore power!"
"Check the breakers! Who touched—?"
Slash. Slash. Slash.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Metal whispered. Bodies crumpled.
"Wha— Ghk!"
Unseen death prowled. Screams, steel, and blood perfumed the dark.
Some flailed weapons blindly. Gunfire erupted—mana-enhanced rounds from lieutenants.
But the trained agents anticipated trajectories, dodging with lethal grace. The slaughter was almost too easy.
Until lights flared back on.
Jefren had activated a backup generator. With a grinding noise, he stepped forward, a faint glow pulsing in his chest—like a second heart.
"You... rats."
The glow intensified. A torrent of mana erupted—rivaling an intermediate knight's.
Agents recoiled. Louis, Bwindol, and Bill signaled urgently: [Fall back.]
They feared lesser agents would be slaughtered.
Jefren wasn't faring well either. Only three night-vision-equipped lieutenants remained from his crew, while fifteen superhuman agents surrounded him.
"...Damn. So it's come to this."
Jefren hefted a massive shotgun. "Lieutenants! Take the serum and flee!"
"Yes, boss!"
They swallowed vials from their pockets. The agents hesitated, wary of Jefren's weapon.
Louis signaled: [All non-knights pursue escapees. Knights handle this.]
The agents gave chase—oddly, Jefren didn't stop them.
Almost as if... he'd let them go.
"Three on one? Bring it!"
A ploy to reduce enemy numbers.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The knights dodged by predicting the barrel's aim—not the bullets. A few grazes still landed, shrugged off with reinforced bodies.
Jefren kept firing, whittling them down until—click—empty.
Without pause, he lunged, swinging a colossal greatsword with shocking speed.
Whoosh!
The slash gouged the ground where Bwindel stood. Louis struck at an opening—only for Jefren to pivot and parry.
BOOM!
The impact sent Louis crashing into a wall.
Thud!
Jefren gave no respite, closing in for another swing.
Swish!
A deceptively swift strike for his size.
Clang!
Bill blocked—but the force made his bones creak.
Seizing the chance, Bwindel and Louis charged, aura blazing.
"Haah!"
Jefren met them with his own aura-clad blade.
KABOOM!
Sparks flew, illuminating Jefren's twisted grin. He kicked the ground—cement shards smashing into Bwindel's head.
"Gah!"
A follow-up kick sent Bwindel sprawling, leaving Louis alone.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Louis sweated under the overwhelming assault. This power gap...! He'd gravely underestimated Jefren.
BOOM!
Pushing his aura to the limit, Louis fought desperately.
"Kuhahaha! Not bad!"
But it wasn't enough.
"Now die!"
Jefren grabbed Louis's blade and swung downward—
Whoosh!
—when a shot blasted Jefren's back.
"GRAAGH!"
He whirled, face contorted in shock.
"...You!"
Sion Karsen stood there, holding a lieutenant's shotgun, smoke curling from the barrel.
"Louis! Bwindel! Bill! Regroup!" he shouted. "Covering fire incoming!"