The morning cold of Tokyo clung to the narrow alleyways as Sakamoto Taro, 05-12 The Legendary Hitman, walked with a slow, heavy stride.
His hands were tucked deep into his apron pockets, his round, stout frame moving with an impossible lightness that left absolute zero sound against the concrete.
Right beside him, Asakura Shin hurried to keep pace, his boots tapping a sharp, restless rhythm against the asphalt.
He kept darting anxious glances at his silent boss.
“Sakamoto-san, come on,” Shin asked, rubbing his hands together to ward off the winter chill.
“You’ve been completely quiet since Lu took over the register. What kind of business do we actually have to take care of out here? Is it a rogue asset from the underground?”
Sakamoto didn’t turn his head or break his calm, mild-mannered expression.
He simply adjusted his glasses as his voice resonated with perfect, unbothered clarity directly inside the boy’s head.
‘It’s a simple errand,’ Sakamoto’s mental transmission replied flatly.
‘We are going to pick up a specific item.’
Shin blinked, his curiosity immediately spiking.
“An item? What kind of item? A rare ingredient for the store’s inventory? Or… a black-market weapon shipment?”
Sakamoto did not answer.
He kept moving forward, his right hand slipping out of his apron pocket to hold his smartphone.
His thumb scrolled across the interface, his eyes tracking the fiercely pulsing red beacon of SCP-127-SL across the local grid map.
Shin watched him, his brow furrowing as he noticed the continuous, mechanical focus his boss was dedicating to the glass.
“Sakamoto-san… what have you been staring at on that phone since we left the shop anyway? You usually don’t even check your messages.”
‘A map,’ Sakamoto thought back smoothly.
“A map?” Shin muttered aloud.
Growing intensely curious, the young telepath leaned in closer, his neck extending as he tried to stealthily peek over Sakamoto’s massive shoulder to catch a glimpse of the screen.
In a fraction of a second, before Shin’s eyes could even register the display, Sakamoto’s lethal instincts executed an instantaneous, brutal execution within his mind.
He visualized his thick hand snapping backward, gripping the base of Shin’s skull, and violently smashing his face dead-center into the concrete wall of the alleyway with enough force to shatter the bricks.
It was a mental strike of pure, unadulterated killing intent, so raw and perfectly detailed that the psychic pressure violently rippled outward
“GYAH!”
Shin violently recoiled, his hands violently snapping up to clutch his head in absolute protest as he stumbled backward.
His eyes were wide with dramatic trauma, cold sweat instantly breaking out on his neck.
“Ouch! Sakamoto-san! That’s a total foul! You can’t just think of breaking my head and shattering my skull in my mind just for trying to look at a map! I felt my nose break three different times!”
Sakamoto casually slid his phone back down into his apron pocket, completely unfazed as he continued walking down the street.
‘Keep your eyes on the perimeter, Shin,’ Sakamoto’s deep, steady mental voice commanded, completely bypassing the youth’s frantic complaints.
‘The target is close.
If you lose focus, you won’t survive the encounter.’
Shin let out a heavy, defeated sigh, adjusting his jacket as he trotted back to his boss’s side, his eyes scanning the surrounding crowds with newfound tension.
He still couldn’t read a single fine detail about the mission from Sakamoto’s incredibly disciplined mind, but the raw gravity of the situation was finally hitting him.
They were stepping straight into the crosshairs of something dangerous.
Sakamoto came to a sudden halt in front of a dilapidated, rust-stained concrete building on the outskirts of the district.
The windows were shattered, and the heavy scent of decay and cheap tobacco clung to the cracked walls.
Seeing his boss stop, Shin immediately focused his telepathic senses, expanding his cognitive radar to pierce right through the thick walls of the structure to scout the interior.
His eyes widened in a fraction of a second as two distinct mental voices locked into his conscious awareness.
“Wait… that voice,” Shin whispered, his posture instantly stiffening with deep familiarity.
“Sakamoto-san… I recognize one of the voices inside. It’s my old boss. The syndicate leader I used to work for before you took me in.”
He tuned his mental receiver finer, straining to catch the dialogue coming from the upper floors.
Shin’s former boss was speaking in a gruff, demanding tone, interrogating a second individual whose voice Shin had never encountered in the Tokyo underworld before.
Shin leaned in mentally, trying to lock onto the stranger’s mind.
It belonged to a man, a remarkably talkative person who was rambling with an almost cheerful cadence.
Suddenly, a bizarre, chaotic jolt of consciousness violently disrupted the telepathic feed.
Shin gasped, his chest tightening as the stranger’s mental broadcast shifted, focusing right onto the exact psychic coordinate Shin was broadcasting from.
It was as if the target had physically felt someone invading his mind and trying to tune in.
“Aaaaaagh! Oh, shh…!” the strange voice suddenly called out inside the psychic channel, causing Shin’s heart to hammer against his ribs.
“Sorry, boss! I thought I heard somethin’- Wait!… Nope, nothin’.”
The man paused for a brief beat before entirely missing Shin’s deep cover, relaxing back into his erratic, casual rambling to the syndicate leader.
“Y’know… I was in a completely different facility at one point! Mmm… That’s right! There was a bit o’ rumblin’ here, a few explosions there! And the next thing, you know… I’m here now! Wonder what happened to the rest of the guys locked up there! Hope they got out all right…”
Shin snapped out of the telepathic link, cold sweat pouring down his neck as he turned frantically to the legendary hitman, gripping his own chest to steady his breathing. Read the latest chapters at g.com.
“Sakamoto-san, it’s a mess up there,” Shin relayed in a sharp, urgent whisper.
“My old boss is inside, dealing with an unknown guy. But the man he’s talking to… he almost detected me! He felt me tuning in, Sakamoto-san! I’ve never had a regular person pick up on my mind-reading like that before. And his thoughts are completely bizarre. He’s talking about escaping some massive facility that suffered an explosion. He’s talking about ‘the rest of the guys locked up there’ like he’s part of a whole group of dangerous prison escapees loose in Tokyo!”
Sakamoto didn’t crack a single fraction of his stoic expression.
He slowly adjusted his glasses, his thick fingers resting against the indestructible smartphone inside his apron pocket.
The red beacon on his screen was just right ahead.
Thanks to his O5 data files, Sakamoto understood what Shin didn’t.
The talkative, normal-sounding man Shin was perceiving wasn’t actually a human criminal at all.
It was the sentient, biological firearm, SCP-127-SL.
Speaking telepathically to its new wielder while reminiscing about its days locked inside a Foundation containment vault.
The weapon was highly perceptive and lethal.
Sakamoto proceeded to move.
He stepped across the shattered door of the dilapidated building, navigating the debris-strewn floor toward the presence he could naturally sense on his own.
Shin followed tightly behind him, his palms sweating as he held a standard pistol ready to shoot at any given moment.
As they ascended the cracked concrete stairwell, approaching the upper floor, Shin focused his telepathic ability to continuously monitor the ongoing conversation inside the room.
“A prison break, huh?” Shin’s old boss was grunting, his voice heavy with greedy contemplation.
“I don’t care what kind of secret government black-site you cracked out of. What matters is the lethality of that piece of steel in your hands. Let’s talk distribution.”
“Oh, absolutely, boss! I’m an excellent negotiator!” the talkative man’s voice replied cheerfully within the telepathic wavelength.
“Though I wouldn’t exactly call myself ‘steel.’ I’m much more organic, if you catch my drift! But hey, before we sign any underworld contracts and start drawing up territory maps…”
The voice suddenly dropped its casual tone, a sharp, perceptive awareness cutting through the psychic link.
“…it looks like we’ve got company right outside the door.”
BOOM!
Before the syndicate leader could even process the warning, Sakamoto’s heavy boot slammed into the wooden door, violently kicking it completely off its rusted hinges.
The panel shattered inward, throwing a cloud of splintered wood and choking gray dust into the room.
The old boss, alerted by his companion’s sudden warning, was already locked and loaded.
Reacting with veteran syndicate reflexes, he instantly raised a sleek, submachine gun that looked vaguely like an MP5, except its handle subtly twitched and pulsed under his grip.
He opened fire on the doorway without screaming a single word.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
A deafening barrage of automatic fire erupted from the barrel.
But the projectiles cutting through the dust weren’t standard lead bullets.
They were calcified, razor-sharp human teeth, tearing through the air with terrifying velocity.
Sakamoto didn’t flinch.
Moving with blinding speed, he yanked his upgraded smartphone from his apron pocket and held it flat out in front of him.
He deliberately used the phone’s indestructible properties to test its limits, utilizing the small device as a perfect shield.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!
The barrage of human teeth slammed violently against the smartphone’s screen, sparking fiercely but failing to leave a single scratch, dent, or crack on the anomalous hardware.
The impact forces were entirely absorbed by the device, allowing Sakamoto to stand like an immovable iron wall in the middle of the lethal crossfire.
Shin cowered flat behind Sakamoto’s massive frame, his pistol raised as his eyes frantically scanned the smoke-filled room.
He looked past his old boss, checking behind the overturned tables, the crumbling pillars, and the dark corners, desperately searching for the talkative second man he had been tracking telepathically.
But the room was completely empty save for the syndicate leader.
“Sakamoto-san!” Shin shouted over the deafening roar of the gunfire, his voice laced with pure, unadulterated panic.
“I can’t find him! The other guy… the one who was talking with him… he’s not in the room!”
Sakamoto’s eyes remained perfectly flat behind his glasses as he adjusted his grip on the smartphone.
He didn’t need to look around.
His gaze was locked entirely on the weapon in the old boss’s hands, watching the teeth rapidly regenerate inside the magazine.
The executioner knew exactly where the other man was.
RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!
The deafening roar of calcified, human-tooth ammunition continued to tear through the dilapidated room, shredding the concrete walls and kicking up a dense storm of gray dust.
Shin, realizing they couldn’t just stand there forever acting as a stationary target, braced his feet against the floor.
BANG!
BANG!
Two high-velocity lead rounds blasted through the choking smoke, flying straight toward the old syndicate’s legs.
But before the copper jackets could even graze the fabric of his pants, a bizarre, translucent ripple fractured the air right in front of him.
A pale blue barrier of raw energy materialized instantly, a Hume shield.
Completely distorting the surrounding space.
Thud.
Thud.
The two bullets slammed into the invisible wall and stopped dead in mid-air, spinning violently for a fraction of a second before losing all velocity and dropping limply onto the concrete floor like useless pebbles.
Shin’s jaw went completely slack, his eyes widening in a look of pure, unadulterated shock.
“Wh-What the hell?!” he stammered, his arms trembling as he stared at the suspended space.
“A barrier?! Since when did my old boss have a sci-fi forcefield?! Sakamoto-san, my shots aren’t even touching him! What kind of trick is this?!”
Sakamoto didn’t offer a verbal answer, nor did he send a mental transmission.
His expression remained entirely stoic, but his lethal, legendary focus locked dead onto the undulating reality barrier.
It was time to end the experiment.
Sakamoto shifted his weight, his thick boots executing a blinding, explosive burst of speed that tore through the floorboards.
Moving like a charging mountain, he closed the distance in a fraction of a second.
The old boss frantically tracked his movement, swiveling the barrel of the MP5 to spray a point-blank barrage of teeth straight at Sakamoto’s face.
Sakamoto didn’t dodge.
He raised his right arm, tightly gripping the indestructible smartphone like a high-density tactical knuckle-duster.
SHATTER!
With a terrifying display of raw physical power, Sakamoto slammed the flat face of the anomalous phone directly into the translucent Hume shield.
The absolute, indestructible property of the Foundation hardware collided violently with the fluctuating reality barrier.
The air fractured like broken glass, a loud hydraulic hiss echoing through the room as the shield was instantly crushed and obliterated by the impact.
Before the old boss could even register that his defense had been shattered, Sakamoto’s fluid kinetic momentum carried him forward.
He swung a devastating, heavy left hook, catching the syndicate leader square under the jaw with precise, non-lethal executioner force.
CRACK.
The old boss’s eyes instantly rolled into the back of his head.
His entire frame lifted off the ground before crashing heavily backward onto the dusty concrete, completely knocked into a state of deep unconsciousness.
As his fingers went limp, the biological firearm slid smoothly out of his grip, clattering loudly against the stone floor.
Sakamoto stood over the unconscious man, adjusting his round glasses with his left hand before bending down.
His thick fingers wrapped firmly around the cold, slightly wet, and breathing grip of the biological submachine gun, picking it up into the light.
Instantly, a real, physical voice, completely bypassing any telepathic channels, gasped aloud from the metal framework of the weapon, coughing weakly as its magazine of teeth rattled.
(Cough, cough) “…Oof! Man, talk about a violent introduction!” the gun rambled cheerfully, its talkative, casual tone echoing clearly in the silent room.
“Pleased to meet ya, big guy! They call me one-twenny-seven around these parts. Nice grip you got there, by the way!”
Shin froze entirely, his pistol lowering as his mind violently imploded.
He stared at the weapon in Sakamoto’s hand, his face turning an absolute shade of pale as he realized there was no second man.
The talkative prison escapee he had been tracking this entire time was the literal gun his boss was currently holding.
***
Author’s note:
SCP-127-SL Secured and now Sakamoto has an unbreakable weapon(smartphone) in his hands…
Well, would you look at that, this took 2.5k words…
I feel like I’m writing about Suzuki Aya (From my previous novel) here with the automatic shield and all…
As for the continuation of this scene, let’s just say they wake the boss guy and use the Class A General Retrograde on him to erase his memory, and suggest he surrender to the authorities…
I’m just putting this here, as this part will not get written.
This happened [off-screen]…
One more thing, I got a busy week(work… tsk…) ahead…
So, update time will change to one chapter a day or something…
Maybe…
Well, it all depends on how fast I can go…
Hehe…