Terran physiology never ceased to amaze him.
Lynn watched in awe as the figure rolled out of the rubble.
She shook the concrete dust and shattered glass from her shoulders, discarded a ruined black cloak, and kept walking.
If Lynn had taken a plunge from a fifth-story window, he would have been scraping his remains off the pavement.
Even a highly trained Earth operative would be a broken mess of shattered bones and internal bleeding after eating an explosion and a shower of glass.
But this woman merely shook her head to clear the dizziness.
She stepped out of the lingering dust cloud, clutching a small, square lockbox against her chest.
In her other hand, she gripped a massive, heavy crossbow.
She paused at the entrance, her eyes sweeping over the Penguin Logistics crew with cautious, predatory tension.
Lynn stared at her.
Something about her stance—and those distinct, jagged black horns curving from her head—tugged at his memory.
Where had he seen her?
He rubbed his bruised head, the dull ache jogging his memory.
Two days ago.
The bastard who had completely shattered his peaceful life.
The sniper on the opposite rooftop who had put a bolt through his apartment.
“You’re…” Lynn pointed an accusing finger.
“You’re the attacker from the other day!” “…Yes.” She brushed the remaining debris from her clothes.
Tall and imposing, the mercenary offered the Penguin Logistics crew a faint, bitter smile.
Lynn didn’t need his terrifying intuition to see how forced it was.
Her brownish-yellow hair was matted with dust and drying blood.
A dark, jagged gash tore across her waist, staining her clothes a deep crimson.
Her left arm trembled with unnatural spasms, and her right foot dragged slightly with every step.
Most of her tactical webbing was empty, stripped of ammunition.
She was running on pure, stubborn willpower.
Despite the agonizing toll on her body, she held the small lockbox with a protective, iron grip.
Four glowing security seals wrapped around the container, pulsing with a faint light that indicated it would take serious time to crack.
As she recognized the faces before her, the mercenary’s smile turned self-deprecating.
“I didn’t expect it to be you.
I suppose this is fate…
The fate of a Sarkaz.” It was the bitter end of the line for a mercenary.
To pray for a miracle, only for your former targets to answer the call.
The moment the male Operator had spoken, she knew exactly who she had stumbled into.
She had fought tooth and nail to secure a future for her people, only to find her sins catching up to her the second she grasped a shred of hope.
“Yes.
I am the mercenary, Meteorite,” she confessed, her voice tight with pain.
“I attacked your safehouse.
I took a contract to destroy your home and erase the Lazarus file.
I did it for the money.
I needed the money…” A sharp spike of agony tore through her abdomen.
She gasped, staggering against the shattered doorframe and instinctively clutching her bleeding waist.
Her eyes, however, burned with a desperate plea as she looked at the crew.
“But I need this money to save my people.
I’ll give you everything I have—every last LMD—but this box must be delivered.
Please, Penguin Logistics.” Lynn scoffed, crossing his arms.
“Ha.
You think a sob story changes anything?
What do we even need the L.G.D.
for if a simple apology—” “Shut up, Prophet,” Texas interrupted, her voice cold and flat.
“One more word and I’ll sew your mouth shut.” The black-haired Lupo glared at Lynn, who immediately threw up his hands in a gesture of absolute innocence.
Texas bit down on the chocolate Pocky stick in her mouth, snapping it with a crisp crunch.
She turned her cool gaze back to the bleeding mercenary.
“Excuse me.
Are you asking us to deliver a package?” “…Yes.” Meteorite nodded, cold sweat beading on her forehead as she fought through the blinding pain.
“You can take the cipher sheet from my coat.
All my research on explosive materials is on it.
Please, don’t judge the Sarkaz based on my sins.
They are innocent.
Take the money, take the data, just please…
deliver this to them—” “Ignore the Prophet’s nonsense,” Texas said, her brow furrowing slightly.
“Penguin Logistics operates by its own code of conduct.
We don’t disappoint, and we don’t charge hidden fees.
State your timeframe, the destination, and the handling requirements for the package.” “Lungmen outskirts,” Meteorite rasped, leaning heavily against the wall.
“The Sarkaz mercenary outpost at the West Gate.
Or anywhere near the infected slums where the Sarkaz gather.
Just tell them…
tell them this is the last thing Meteorite managed to secure.
I’ll stay here and buy you time to escape.
I leave the rest to you.” “Is that so?” Texas mused, her tone perfectly level.
“Rerouting to a new region, entering a hostile zone, and transporting a critically injured client.
Those are significant variables.” Meteorite’s eyes dimmed.
“You mean…
you’re refusing the contract?” “No,” Texas replied.
“I mean it’s going to cost you more.” “…Eh?” Meteorite blinked, entirely stunned.
She had already made peace with her death.
Texas ignored the mercenary’s confusion.
She smoothly drew a small notepad from her waist pouch, clicked a pen, and jotted down a few quick figures.
Before Meteorite could process what was happening, Texas ripped out the page and held it out.
It read: 75,000 LMD.
“Penguin Logistics is fair to all,” Texas stated.
“Two location transfers, one critically injured VIP, an urgent package, and delivery into a high-risk Oripathy zone.
The complete total is seventy-five thousand LMD.
Will you be paying upfront, or on delivery?
Given your condition, I assume on delivery.
So, aren’t you getting in the car?” “But…
why?” Meteorite murmured, utterly bewildered as Texas turned on her heel and walked toward the vehicle.
The Lupo opened the back door, gestured for Lynn to slide over, and then waved the mercenary inside.
“You could have just taken everything I have.
The life of a Sarkaz means nothing to you, does it?” “A Sarkaz means nothing,” Texas agreed without looking back.
“But a client means everything.
Penguin Logistics is fair to all.
Or would you prefer to bleed to death on the sidewalk?” “…Please, just get me to the drop point!” Hearing the rising clamor of angry voices echoing from the building behind her, Meteorite gritted her teeth.
She staggered forward, practically falling into the back seat next to Lynn, and slammed the heavy door shut.
Lynn immediately pressed himself against the opposite door, looking at the blood-soaked, panting Sarkaz with blatant distaste.
From the front seat, Exusiai flashed a bright grin.
She nudged Lynn’s shoulder and pointed a thumb at Texas, who was already turning the ignition key.
The engine roared to life.
“Texas is super cool, right?” “I won’t deny that,” Lynn muttered, keeping a wary eye on the bleeding mercenary.
“Being strictly business is definitely cool.
But I have something else to point out.” Outside, the shouts grew louder, echoing down the street corner.
‘Don’t let her get away!
Surround the block!’ ‘That bitch stole the Lazarus file!’ Lynn raised an eyebrow at the cheerful Sankta.
“We’re about to be swarmed by an angry mob.
What do you think about that?” [Rhodes’s Note: Enjoying the operation so far, Doctor?
(This daily grind literally pays the landship’s rent!
to use the links!)