The mercenaries ascended the stairs rapidly, their footsteps swift and nearly silent.
Tap, tap, tap…!!
Lennok kept pace, drawing his gun from its holster and imbuing it with support magic.
Upon reaching the rooftop, the disorderly office vanished, replaced by an expansive vista. In one corner, a colossal generator stood; a towering antenna reached for the heavens, with myriad wires bridging the two.
A chilling sight accompanied this scene: vibrant red blood pooling on the ground.
“Weian!”
Dray’s cry pierced the air as he raced to Weian’s side, who lay bloodied and writhing in pain.
A similar fate had befallen the other members of the 2nd squad.
Each one teetered on the brink of collapse, their grievous wounds rendering them nearly immobile and unable to react to their comrades’ arrival. All they could do was meet the gazes of their allies, attempting to offer a silent, welcoming acknowledgment.
“Ca… Captain… Sorry…”
Weian’s eyes fluttered open as he mumbled weakly. Without hesitation, Dray retrieved a vial of medicine from his pocket and applied it to Weian’s injuries.
The potion, infused with regenerative magic, was a costly item traded at a substantial value. However, no price could outweigh a human life.
Similar actions were taken by the other mercenaries, tending to their fallen comrades.
Once Weian’s breathing steadied, Dray quickly raised his head, scanning the area.
The precision and finesse of the situation suggested a deliberate avoidance of a lethal blow – a near-impossible feat for anyone without extensive training.
If such a skilled force existed within the scavengers, there was no reason for them to flee after causing such harm.
They must be observing from a hidden vantage point, remaining vigilant.
The other mercenaries seemed to share this thought, as they heightened their senses and maintained a watchful eye on their surroundings.
The rooftop atmosphere was chilling, with only the cold wind whipping through the desolate scene devoid of any visible enemies.
Where could they be?
The mana emitted by dozens of mercenaries merged, amplifying their sensory range. Soon, they detected faint breathing sounds.
As if orchestrated, each mercenary readied their weapons simultaneously.
As Dray rose to his feet, a man hidden amidst the cables dangling from the generator emerged, saying, “I anticipated someone would show up, but…”
His hair and beard were unkempt, his face marred with numerous scars, and his eyes cold and hollow.
A knife in hand, he radiated an overwhelming presence that seemed to intimidate anyone who faced him.
“I had no idea things had gotten that out of hand,”
“It was you,” Dray accused.
His expression twisted at the sight of the bloodied knife.
“Did you just watch my soldiers suffer like this, you bastard?”
The man’s face formed a cruel smile, his voice harsh and cold.
“Do you know how crazy expensive this whole thing was? Three branches came together to pool their resources, and we had to seize control of servers that held the keys to District 53’s tax network. Not to mention all the bribes we had to dole out to get this far.”
Although the man’s words were cryptic, Dray grasped their meaning.
“Are you insane? Do you intend to steal the reserve funds managed by the Vulcan government?” he inquired.
“We don’t have to go to such extremes. City Hall is just a puppet, and they control hundreds of millions. If we take over a power plant and disrupt District 53’s power supply, their network security will inevitably be weakened. Is it really that bad to take advantage of a corrupt institution’s weaknesses?” the man countered.
“I don’t think that’s a business a retired soldier should be involved in,” Dray said, his finger inching towards the trigger.
The man’s cold gaze sharpened at his words.
“It’s been more than three years since I ditched the front line. I was so sure that I had left my military self behind, but it looks like I was wrong.”
“Do ordinary criminals exude such intense energy?” Dray challenged.
“Heh… I know, right? Perhaps you are too?” the man replied with a sneer.
Dray remained silent.
The old man never divulged his past, but his aura as a former soldier was unmistakable.
The precise yet ruthless skills that had expertly overpowered the second squad, the composed yet resolute demeanor, and the courteous tone reminiscent of the older Dray. All these qualities stirred a deep-seated nostalgia within the mercenaries.
“To be honest, I have no interest in the rights or wrongs of this situation. I couldn’t care less about the fate of the Scavenger.”
Two soldiers, who had forsaken their duty and sense of justice, now stood opposed.
“It’s just business, nothing more.”
“I don’t care. The job we began, with the intent to see it through, doesn’t end here.”
The man who came down from the wire put his hand on his chest and said.
“…..It’s too soon to be stopped by just one mercenary.”
As the tension intensified, Dray’s thoughts raced.
What was the deadliest weapon the man could produce from his coat?
A gun, a grenade, or perhaps a smoke or flash grenade to impair vision… Which would it be?
But the man defied all of Dray’s predictions by revealing something far more perilous than any of those options.
From his coat, the man extracted a disposable syringe with a long needle.
Sensing imminent danger, Dray tightened his grip on his weapon and barked a command to the mercenaries behind him.
“Stop him!”
Ratatat!
The gunmen instantly fired at the man, but his reflexes proved faster than their bullets.
Swiftly dodging to the left, the man evaded the mercenaries’ gunfire and immediately plunged the syringe into his own arm, depressing the plunger.
Whoosh!
“Whew…”
The unknown liquid’s effect was instantaneous.
His eyes turned pitch-black, and his arms trembled uncontrollably.
A chilling black mist billowed from his body, slowly descending to the ground.
Despite their relentless shooting, the mercenaries failed to hit the man, who deftly rolled out of harm’s way.
Crunch!
“Aaargh!!!”
A fist-sized hole suddenly appeared in the chest of a mercenary who had trained his rifle on the man.
“Hansen!!”
Ike shouted his name and hurriedly applied a potion to the wound, but it was futile. Blood poured from the injury, too profuse for the medicine to seal.
His eyes grew vacant, his mouth agape. With no breath remaining and only feeble spasms wracking his body, he was dead.
“Why didn’t I kill those who arrived here first?”
The man spoke, caressing his blood-drenched hand.
At some point, he had grasped Hansen’s still-beating heart.
In a matter of seconds, he had punctured the enemy’s chest and extracted the living man’s organ.
“To utilize this power… I require a living fuel source.”
With those chilling words, the man began to devour the heart held in his hand.
“……..”
In the face of the gruesome and horrifying scene, the mercenaries wordlessly raised their weapons.
It was clear whose heart would be used as fuel next, even without asking.
In the chilling atmosphere, a stark contrast to the relaxed mood just moments before, Lennok studied the man intently without so much as blinking.
More specifically, he scrutinized the unknown energy swirling around him.
It was viscous yet supple, slow yet nimble, adhering to surfaces rather than traveling in a straight line, and rising from the bottom up instead of falling from the top down.
A nature that seemed more inclined to defy order than comply with it.
“Black magic,” Lennok mused. It was his first time witnessing it in person, but the movement was familiar.
There was no shortage of wizard players in WORLD who favored black magic, and a significant number of related NPCs existed. Thus, Lennok quickly deduced the identity of the syringe the man had used.
‘Considering his interest in human flesh, he could be affiliated with the Vampiric Order, and the Bloody Assize is also a possibility. If the relevant magical systems still exist in this world…’ Lennok recalled the names of the spellcasters and their rites, notorious for their blood-soaked nature within the realm of black magic.
‘I’m aware of the considerable side effects, but did he come here to test his power? This won’t be an easy fight.’
Observing the mercenary who lost his heart without a chance to react, Lennok knew he couldn’t afford to be careless either.
He channeled mana into the barrier surrounding his body, heightening his senses.
In the meantime, the man single-handedly turned the tide, ruthlessly cutting down mercenaries and gaining the upper hand.
“Maintain formation!”
“We have to stop his rampage!”
“Delin, stay back!”
However, the mercenaries’ movements were severely restricted as they had to defend the incapacitated 2nd squad, while the man’s attack speed showed no signs of slowing despite taking a few hits.
Ultimately, it didn’t take long for their defenses to crumble and the mercenaries to fall one by one.
“Kaaah!!”
While working in this line of business, one can never be certain when death will come. Yet, it’s not easy to stay composed as comrades perish one after another before your eyes.
With blood flowing freely and lives slipping away, the remaining mercenaries fell into a panic, their limbs growing rigid and their senses dulling.
If the situation continued down this path, they’d be annihilated without even utilizing their full capabilities.
Lennok made the decision that he had to subdue the man immediately and abandoned the magic he was preparing, opting for a new one instead.
Although the mana he had gathered in advance dispersed into the air, Lennok’s impressive mana control ability captured all of the scattered mana particles and reassembled them within his body.
He possessed the talent to manipulate mana on a particle level, extracting more efficiency from the magic itself.
Had the wizard who perished on the third floor witnessed this scene, he would have wished to take his own life, even if it required desperate measures.
The spell, completed at an incredibly rapid pace, skipped the incantation and invisible gestures, unfolding like a flower in the sky.
[Thunder Calling]
A blue lightning bolt streaked through the arid sky, striking the rooftop of the four-story building.
Kwaaaang!!
The impact was so powerful that the concrete structure trembled violently.
However, the damage inflicted by the lightning was carefully confined, avoiding the areas where the mercenaries and the power plant were situated.
Lennok had calculated the mana quantity and damage range with his exceptional perception, deliberately adjusting the lightning’s potency.
It would have been impossible before ascending the building to accurately determine the location, but in his current state, where he had grasped the spatial coordinates amid the unleashed thunderbolt, it was not unfeasible. Lennok made that assessment, attempted it, and achieved complete success.
Even though it was only his second time using this magic, Lennok’s prodigious talent enabled such extraordinary control.
Hooong!!
Even as the lightning struck before him and the mercenaries’ faces went pale, Lennok didn’t cease manipulating the mana.
If the man were hit and incapacitated by this single attack, that would be ideal, but if not, Lennok already had a clear plan in mind for the next steps.
The fleeting precursor to the lightning strike before it lands. If one could perceive it with their eyes or intuition, it was also possible to evade it.
Lennok’s mind, having already experienced the brink due to the creature known as Croken, could effortlessly calculate the movements of any superhuman being.
The most likely scenarios were that the man would leap into the mercenaries to avoid the area attack’s damage or use them as shields to withstand it.
And if the man indeed dodged the lightning in such a manner, the next target he would aim for would be—
Ddoeooeong!!
Lennok himself, the caster of the spell.
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