“Shit…” Kisch stared at the steel spike that had passed close enough to scrape the tip of his nose, the skin still burning from the near miss.
When he looked down at Lucello’s men, his expression became much uglier; the two gunmen had been pierced by more than a dozen steel rods, leaving their bodies almost unrecognizable.
If Orion had reacted even a second later, Kisch knew he and John might have ended up exactly the same way.
“Orion, thanks.
You just saved my ass.” John didn’t waste words, merely giving Orion’s arm a firm punch of appreciation before checking the corridor again.
A burst of static sounded in their earpieces, followed by Sander’s broken voice from outside.
“Guys… you still… okay in there?” The Collector’s hotel clearly contained some kind of signal interference because everyone’s cell phones had stopped working after they entered, but the Bison team’s military-grade radios could still barely communicate through the relay equipment mounted in Sander’s armored van.
“We’re alive,” Kisch answered into his headset.
“Thanks to Orion.” Before Sander could respond, Lucello suddenly released a muffled groan nearby, drawing everyone’s attention.
A mechanical whine sounded overhead, and the steel spikes that had descended from the ceiling abruptly retracted.
Lucello immediately collapsed against the floor.
The others looked at his injuries and couldn’t decide whether he was extremely lucky or unbelievably unlucky.
One spike had grazed his forehead instead of entering his skull, but two others had punched completely through his feet.
The thick metal rods had shattered much of the bone and tissue beneath them, leaving Lucello pale with pain and nearly incapable of standing.
John crouched beside him, removed his shoes, and quickly wrapped the wounds with bandages from his medical kit.
“You’re staying here.
Bull, stay with Mr.
Lucello and keep him covered while we finish the search.” Kisch nodded once, but Lucello immediately shook his head.
“No.” Sweat covered Lucello’s face, yet his voice remained firm.
“I can protect myself.
Bull goes with you and brings Miss Peters back.” Five men under his command had already died within minutes of entering Hotel Argento, and Lucello now understood just how dangerous the Collector actually was.
He refused to reduce the rescue team’s strength simply because he had been injured.
John considered the situation for several seconds before nodding.
He had also badly underestimated their target; the Collector wasn’t merely a violent psychopath but someone capable of turning an entire building into an elaborate killing machine.
Even experienced soldiers could die without ever getting a chance to shoot back.
“How about I stay with him?” Arkin suddenly offered.
He had thrown himself flat the moment the explosive went off and, after recognizing the rescued prisoner as another trap, had instinctively kept Orion and the others between himself and danger.
“I don’t know what he’s changed since I escaped anyway.
If I keep going with you, I’m probably just going to slow you down.” Lucello was about to object, but Arkin’s reasoning was difficult to dismiss.
He was injured, several of his fingers were damaged, and most of his knowledge of the Collector’s lair had already become unreliable after the killer changed the layout.
After a few seconds, Lucello gave a reluctant nod.
A sudden crash sounded overhead before anyone could move.
Part of the ceiling snapped open and a chain armed with several heavy hooks dropped directly toward Arkin’s face, one point aimed beneath his chin.
Arkin froze in horror as the hook descended, but Orion’s left hand shot forward and caught it inches away.
Metal links groaned under the sudden stop.
Orion tightened his grip, and with a sharp crack, the chain snapped under his Level 2 strength.
At the same moment, he raised his M4 and fired several rapid shots toward movement on the metal framework above them.
A broad figure jerked as rounds struck him, and several dark splashes of blood appeared across his clothing.
“You hit him!” Arkin shouted, relief flashing across his face before immediately disappearing.
The Collector staggered only briefly before turning and moving across the framework with disturbing speed, showing none of the reaction Arkin expected from someone who had just been shot several times.
If blood hadn’t been dripping onto the floor below, he might have believed Orion had missed.
Kisch reacted a fraction later and swept his M249 toward the fleeing figure.
Gunfire tore across the metal structure, but the Collector crossed the remaining distance in several quick movements and vanished into the darkness before Kisch could pin him down.
“Damn it!” Orion didn’t join the frustration.
Instead, a sharp light appeared in his eyes as excitement gradually replaced caution.
He had clearly seen his own rounds connect, including hits to the Collector’s upper torso and head, yet the man had escaped without collapsing.
That was not normal.
The mutant cannibal Orion had killed in the mountains possessed extraordinary durability and Basic Self-Healing, but even that creature had been stunned nearly to death after suffering a direct gunshot wound to the head.
The Collector had just taken multiple rifle rounds, including two around the head and face, and still moved as though the injuries were little more than an inconvenience.
Orion could think of only one explanation.
The Collector was probably a Level 2 life form.
During their brief eye contact, Orion had noticed something else.
A faint bluish glimmer seemed to exist behind the Collector’s eyes, while his gaze carried no fear, anger, pain, or even excitement.
He had looked at Orion with the emotionless focus of a machine observing an object rather than a human being confronting an armed enemy.
A surge of anticipation rose inside Orion.
Ever since his Life Level advanced, his physical power had increased so dramatically that ordinary dangers barely registered anymore.
The traps that terrified everyone else inside Hotel Argento looked fragile to him, while the armed captives they had encountered earlier posed almost no real threat.
Until now, the entire rescue mission had felt less like combat and more like carefully walking through someone else’s deadly playground.
The Collector changed that.
If Orion’s judgment was correct, then for the first time since reaching Level 2, he had encountered something that might actually threaten him.
More importantly, killing a creature at the same Life Level could potentially provide far more valuable Special Energy than the mutant cannibal had given him.
Orion’s earlier casual attitude disappeared completely.
“He’s hurt,” John said, unaware that Orion had seen the exact locations of the hits.
“Whatever drugs he’s using must be keeping him moving.
We put enough rounds into his head and he’ll go down.” Arkin immediately thought of the drugged captives from the cages, while Kisch nodded in agreement.
Those people had continued attacking after taking several bullets to the body, so the idea that the Collector had used some similar chemical treatment on himself seemed believable.
Orion didn’t correct them.
“Keep moving,” John ordered.
Arkin remained behind with the injured Lucello while Orion resumed the lead, John and Kisch following close behind.
Their formation advanced steadily deeper into Hotel Argento, crossing a partially burned corridor before reaching what had once been the hotel’s main banquet hall.
Dozens of bloodstained red trunks and wooden boxes filled the enormous room.
Orion immediately recognized their purpose.
The Collector had likely transported kidnapped victims inside the containers, just as he had once moved Arkin.
Every box had been arranged with disturbing precision, facing the same direction and positioned at almost identical angles, as though the serial killer genuinely viewed the tortured people inside them as pieces in a carefully organized collection.
At the far side of the banquet hall stood a heavy wooden door secured by a thick lock.
Orion raised his rifle and fired once, breaking the locking mechanism, then used the muzzle to push the door open while remaining outside its direct path.
After checking the room beyond for immediate threats, he moved inside with John and Kisch covering him.
The next chamber was enormous and strangely organized.
Shelves filled with books occupied the entrance, while two long rows of preserved insect specimens had been displayed with almost museum-like care.
Everything was meticulously arranged, creating an unsettling contrast with the blood and chaos elsewhere in the hotel.
They moved deeper and found enormous glass tanks filled with cloudy preserving fluid.
Human bodies floated inside, but the Collector had altered them into grotesque displays instead of leaving them intact.
One specimen consisted of a malformed body assembled almost entirely from human legs, while another female corpse had several additional arms stitched onto her torso.
Even John and Kisch fell silent at the sight.
Then Orion heard something moving.
“Rustling.” The sound rapidly multiplied around them.
Hundreds of enormous black spiders began pouring from the darkness surrounding the tanks and shelves.
Each was grotesquely oversized, some nearly as broad as a large dinner platter, and within seconds they were rushing toward Orion, John, and Kisch from every direction.
The room seemed to come alive beneath a moving black tide.
(End of Chapter) [Reader Event Active]