She slowly lifted her head from his neck.
Her eyes remained fixed on the elevator.
Something about it bothered her.
She stared.
Then she stared harder.
Then she squinted.
"Uncle Adrian."
"Hm?"
Dia tugged on his earlobe.
"The elevator is bad."
Adrian blinked.
"The elevator is bad?"
Dia nodded very seriously.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Dia pointed accusingly at the elevator.
"It smells suspicious."
Adrian glanced toward the elevator.
"...You can smell something from here?"
Dia nodded again.
"It smells like something bad."
There was a pause.
Adrian’s eyebrow twitched.
He had absolutely no idea what that meant.
But Dia wasn’t finished.
She leaned closer to his ear and whispered in the most serious voice a five-year-old could possibly produce.
"Also, it’s a trap."
"How do you know?"
Dia puffed out her cheeks.
"Because."
"Because?"
"Because it is."
Adrian stared at her.
Dia stared back.
A tiny hand tugged his collar.
"And I don’t wanna go in there."
That settled it.
Adrian didn’t need any more explanation.
"Weii, as you can see... The lady has spoken," he said.
He turned his cold gaze toward Greg.
"We’ll take the stairs."
Greg’s fake smile twitched.
It was tiny.
Almost invisible.
But Adrian caught it.
"Are you sure, man?" Greg pressed. "The stairs are dark. Could be biters in the stairwell. The elevator is much safer."
Dia immediately peeked over Adrian’s shoulder.
"No."
Greg blinked.
Dia frowned at him.
"Elevator is yucky."
Adrian glanced at her.
"Yucky?"
Dia nodded firmly.
"Very yucky."
Greg’s smile became strained.
"Kid, I promise it’s safe."
Dia’s cheeks puffed out.
"I said no."
Adrian’s mouth twitched.
Then he turned away.
"We also happen to like the dark."
He adjusted his grip on Dia, hefted his wrench, and walked toward the heavy fire doors leading to the stairwell.
As Adrian walked away, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He didn’t need to turn around to know that the crying civilians had instantly dropped their pathetic acts.
The weeping woman was staring at his back with cold, calculating eyes. The teenager with the golf club was speaking rapidly into a walkie-talkie hidden in his sleeve.
’They’re marking us,’ Adrian realized, a dark, bloodthirsty smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. ’They want us to go up because they think we’re walking into a slaughterhouse.’
He pushed through the heavy fire doors into the pitch-black stairwell, the door slamming shut behind them, cutting off the view of the treacherous survivors.
Dia bounced slightly in his arms.
"Uncle Adrian."
"What?"
"I want nuggets."
"I know."
"Chicken nuggets."
"I know."
"Lots of nuggets."
Adrian sighed.
"Yes, Dia."
"With ketchup."
"Yes."
"And fries."
"Yes."
"And strawberry milk."
Adrian stopped walking for half a second.
"...You are negotiating with me?"
Dia nodded.
"Yes."
"You’ve been doing this the whole time?"
"Yes."
Adrian stared forward.
"...Fine."
Dia’s face immediately lit up.
"Yay!"
Behind them, Greg’s expression remained frozen in a friendly smile.
But the instant Adrian turned his back, the smile disappeared.
The crying civilians stopped crying.
The woman with the paper bag lowered her hand.
The teenager with the golf club glanced toward the others and quietly pulled a walkie-talkie from his sleeve.
As they left the staircase, Adrian didn’t need to turn around.
He could feel it.
They were watching and communicating.
The cavernous mall disappeared from view.
Darkness swallowed them.
Dia immediately squeezed Adrian tighter.
"Too dark."
Adrian looked down.
"You just said you liked the dark."
"I changed my mind."
Adrian sighed.
"Of course you did."
He tapped into his S-Rank core.
Blue lightning immediately crackled between his fingers, illuminating the concrete stairwell with harsh, strobe-like flashes.
Dia’s eyes widened.
"Ooooh."
She reached toward the lightning.
"Pretty."
"Don’t touch it."
"I wasn’t gonna."
"You were."
"I wasn’t."
"You absolutely were."
Dia pouted.
Adrian shook his head.
"Alright, Dia."
He started climbing.
"They’re definitely planning to jump us. Probably got a crew waiting on the upper floors."
He glanced down at her.
"Why did you want to stop on the second and third floors? I thought we were going straight for the nuggets?"
Dia looked up at him.
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then she raised one tiny finger.
"Because..."
Adrian waited.
Dia’s expression became extremely serious.
"Qs the System defines it: ’Hoarding.’ If these humans are utilizing this structure as a base of operations, we must strip it of all viable resources before we eliminate them. It is the basic principle of economic warfare."
"Also... We need to check if they have snacks."
Adrian stared at her.
"...That’s it?"
Dia nodded.
"And maybe toys."
"Dia."
"And clothes."
"Dia."
"And maybe more strawberry milk."
Adrian closed his eyes.
"You’re impossible."
Dia grinned.
"I know."
Then she rested her cheek against his shoulder, completely satisfied with herself.
"Now go faster."
"We’re hunting for supplies, not racing."
"But the nuggets are waiting."
Adrian sighed.
"...Fine."
His footsteps echoed through the stairwell.
And somewhere above them, something moved.
Dia’s smile disappeared.
Her little eyes narrowed.
"... Uncle Adrian."
"Hm?"
"Someone’s upstairs."
Adrian’s grin slowly returned.
"I know."
Dia hugged his neck tighter.
"Good."
She paused. Then whispered:
"Can I hit them?"
Adrian’s eyebrow rose.
"With what?"
Dia looked down at her tiny fists.
"...My hands?"
Adrian chuckled.
"Let’s leave the hitting to me."
Dia pouted.
"Fine."
A beat passed.
"...Can I kick them?"
"No."
"...Just a little?"
"No."
"You’re Mean."
Adrian kept climbing.
"Keep your eyes open, kid."
Dia nodded solemnly.
"Okay."
Then, after a moment:
"Uncle Adrian?"
"What?"
"When we get the nuggets..."
"Yes?"
"I want ten."
Adrian sighed.
"You’re getting five."
"Ten."
"Six."
"Ten."
"Seven."
"Ten."
"Eight."
"Ten."
"...Fine."
Dia smiled triumphantly.
"Yay!"
The terrifying warlord carrying a five-year-old girl continued climbing toward the ambush.
Neither of them had any idea that the people waiting above were about to have the worst day of their lives.
.
.
.
"So... It’s a Tactical asset acquisition," Dia replied solemnly from her perch for the third time.
She paused.
Then she added, very seriously,
"Which means... we take everything."