In the sealed experimental section of the lower cargo hold, Keran pressed himself against the corridor corner.
Ten meters away, the lab billowed thick black smoke, flames creeping along the plastic tubing on the workbenches.
He’d taped three grenades together and set them off, reducing every last bit of Undercurrent’s Otherworld Lifeform Project data, genetic samples, and shipping manifests to ash.
The twelve guards of Squad C poured a hail of bullets at his corner, spitting a shower of sparks off the alloy walls.
After killing Squad B’s captain, Keran hadn’t done what everyone expected.
He hadn’t charged up to the cockpit to go after Zevran.
Instead, he’d slid back down the blown maintenance shaft all the way to the bottom deck.
He knew exactly how these people thought.
Every single one of them assumed he’d go straight for the command center.
They’d have set a perfect trap at every staircase leading up.
Charging in blind would have been suicide.
Since the quiet escape plan was dead in the water, he might as well turn the whole place upside down.
The sealed lab at the far end of the cargo hold was the real heart of the transport.
It held all their dirty little secrets.
Destroying it wouldn’t just throw Undercurrent’s entire operation into chaos.
It would wipe every last trace of their research on him.
As for where he’d gotten the grenades?
He’d looted the middle deck armory on his way out after taking down Squad B’s captain.
It had been chaos, and he hadn’t had time to grab much.
Just extra ammo and seven standard-issue fragmentation grenades.
He’d grabbed them just in case.
He hadn’t expected to need them this soon.
“62 pistol rounds left. Four grenades.”
Keran checked his gear quickly, his fingers brushing the slide of his pistol.
He popped his head around the corner for a split second, then ducked back.
A bullet whistled past his ear, punching a deep hole in the wall behind him.
“Twelve men. Three SMGs, nine pistols. Thirty percent more firepower than I estimated.”
He touched the radio clipped to his collar.
The one he’d lifted off the Squad B captain’s corpse.
For the last five minutes, he’d been listening to every single one of their deployment orders.
And none of the guards had figured out yet that their comms channel had become his personal real-time intel feed.
It had been one minute and twenty seconds since he’d hit the lab.
Squad B’s rearguard would be back down here in about two minutes and forty seconds.
He didn’t have much time.
Keran pulled the pin on a grenade and tossed it down the corridor.
BOOM!
The explosion echoed through the narrow hallway.
The Operatives dove for cover, and the gunfire cut off abruptly.
Now.
Keran’s eyes went cold.
The hydraulic lines in his power-reinforced armor let out a low, deep hiss.
He held his left arm up in front of him and charged out, his heavy boots thudding through the smoke.
Before the smoke even cleared, he was on the first Operative.
His armored fist slammed into the man’s gut.
“Ugh!”
The man doubled over and flew backward, spitting blood, and crashed into the alloy door at the end of the hall.
He didn’t move again.
“Shoot him! Shoot!”
Gunfire erupted.
Keran hauled the man’s body in front of him as a shield.
Bullets ripped through the guard’s back, leaving a string of shallow dents in his power armor.
[Power-Reinforced Armor durability reduced by 4]
Using the human shield, Keran closed the distance to melee range.
He moved like a lone wolf among sheep.
Every blow from his armored fists was followed by the sharp crack of breaking bone.
In seconds, three more Operatives lay on the floor.
The rest scrambled backward to put distance between them.
Keran dove behind a metal wall, holding his left arm up to block incoming fire.
With his right hand, he drew his pistol and fired in quick, precise shots.
By the time the magazine was empty, three more Operatives had crumpled to the floor clutching their throats.
Just then, searing pain lanced through his right arm and left thigh at the same time.
[You have been shot in the right arm by a standard-issue pistol! Taken 15 damage!]
[You have been shot in the left leg by a submachine gun! Taken 19 damage!]
[You have been shot! Suffering from Minor Bleeding status. Lose 1 HP per second for 12 seconds. Apply bandages immediately!] x2
Keran didn’t even flinch. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Six months of torture in that lab had pushed his pain tolerance to levels no ordinary human could reach.
These wounds wouldn’t throw off his aim or slow him down.
He didn’t have time for a long-range shootout.
Keran gritted his teeth, pulled the pin on another grenade, and threw it.
BOOM!
The explosion made his ears ring.
He roared and charged out again.
One minute and seventeen seconds later, the last member of Squad C crumpled to the floor outside the lab door.
Keran leaned against the wall and quickly wrapped tourniquets around his wounds.
This brutal fight had cost him five bullet wounds and 87 HP.
His power-reinforced armor’s durability was down to 62.
Out of combat, his health regenerated at a glacial pace.
“Still sucks not having any active skills,” he muttered, wiping blood off his face.
He picked up the radio.
Right on cue, Squad A captain’s frantic voice came over the line.
“Squad C! Squad C, come in! What’s your status at the lab!”
Keran clamped a hand over his throat, imitating the raspy voice of the dead Squad C member.
He coughed deliberately.
“Cough… Squad C took heavy casualties… we’ve got him pinned inside the lab… he’s hit twice… hurry… send reinforcements now…”
He picked up an SMG off the floor and fired a burst into the ceiling to sell the illusion of a desperate firefight.
“Good! Hold on! Squad B rearguard is on their way down! Just hold out three more minutes!”
They didn’t suspect a thing.
After all, according to their files, this Otherworld Lifeform was just a quiet, dull brute who only knew how to fight with his fists.
It never would have occurred to them he could pull something like this.
Keran hung up the radio, a cold smile playing on his lips.
He tied his last three grenades to one of the lab’s high-pressure oxygen tanks, hung it on the inside of the lab door, and rigged the pin to a thin fishing line.
A trip-wire booby trap.
Anyone who pushed the door open would blow themselves sky high.
Then he dragged a heavy metal lab table in front of the door for cover.
He looted all the magazines off the bodies, loaded three SMGs to full, and laid them out beside him.
He picked up a pistol and fired a shot outside every few seconds, keeping up the pretense of a firefight.
Then he hunkered down behind the table and waited.
Less than three minutes later, heavy boots thundered down the corridor.
BANG!
The lab door was kicked open.
BOOM!
The explosion went off right on cue.
Fire devoured the doorway.
Shrapnel from the exploding oxygen tank flew everywhere like bullets, followed by a chorus of screams.
The shockwave sent shell casings and broken glass flying, and the entire corridor shook.
Without hesitation, Keran grabbed an SMG in each hand.
He used the dust as cover and charged to the doorway, sticking the barrels out from behind the table and hosing down the blind spots on either side of the door.
RATATATATAT!
The smoke blocked all vision.
Only the dull thud of bullets hitting flesh echoed through the hall.
When both magazines ran dry, the corridor went completely silent.
Kill notifications scrolled down his System Panel like a waterfall.
Squad B’s rearguard had been almost completely wiped out.
Only three bloodied Operatives lay twitching on the floor.
When they saw Keran step out of the smoke, their eyes went wide with uncomprehending terror.
He used booby traps.
He used tactical deception.
Only now did they realize they’d all been played for fools by this Otherworld Lifeform.
Keran didn’t waste words.
He fired three shots and finished them off.
The radio crackled again, the Squad A captain’s voice now frantic with rage.
“What was that explosion! Squad B! Squad B, come in!”
Keran picked up another SMG and fired a burst into the floor.
He yelled in a perfect imitation of panic.
“We’re ambushed! Too much fire! We can’t hold on! Send reinforcements! Now!”
“Squad A, move out! All of you, with me to the lower deck!”
The Squad A captain spun around and bolted for the stairs.
He’d run exactly two steps when he froze mid-stride.
A cold realization hit him.
Wait.
Only one person had spoken this entire time.
Not a single Squad B member.
No one.
He looked up, his face draining of color.
“Everyone stop!” he roared.
“That Otherworld Lifeform has our radios! He’s been feeding us false information this entire time!”
The guards erupted into chaos.
Only now did they realize the obvious flaw they’d all overlooked.
The test subject could have just picked up a radio off a dead body.
An unthinkable thought crossed every single mind.
Wait a minute.
Had he…
had he wiped out both Squad B and Squad C all by himself?
Squad A captain shivered.
He didn’t want to believe it.
But every single piece of evidence pointed to that absurd, terrifying truth.
This Otherworld Lifeform, the one every single report had marked “no threat, low intelligence”, had single-handedly killed over half the transport’s security force.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.
Panicking now would just get them all killed, just like B and C squads.
“Squad D! Report! Any activity at the cockpit or escape pods!”
“All clear, captain!”
Squad A captain let out a breath of relief.
He had his plan.
“Squad A, listen up! Abandon the search immediately! All personnel return to the cockpit! Pull back and defend every entrance and exit!”
He gritted his teeth, his eyes cold and vicious.
“He’s still just one man. As long as we hold the cockpit and keep him from taking control of the plane, reinforcements from the nearest outpost will be here in three hours. And then he’ll be trapped like a rat.”
Squad A turned around and headed back for the cockpit.
They met up with Squad D at the door.
The captain was scanning the number of people present, just opening his mouth to give the order —
The elevator doors slid open.
Zevran stepped out, his expression calm, as if he was just on a routine inspection.
“Report.”
“Squads C and B are unresponsive. Presumed completely wiped out.” The captain paused.
“The target obtained one of our radios. He’s been using their channel to manipulate our deployments.”
Zevran said nothing.
He just nodded, like he was confirming something he’d already suspected.
“The lab data.”
“All destroyed.”
A second of silence.
“Hold the door. Wait for reinforcements.” Zevran moved to the center of the group, his eyes sweeping over everyone present.
“He can’t escape.”
The captain stood among his men, scanning down the corridor, quietly calculating the blind spots in their field of fire.
Thirty-one guns.
The second the target showed his face, there’d be nothing left of him.
Then something felt off.
Wait…
shouldn’t there only be thirty of us?
Beep.
The access light flashed green, and the door slid open without warning.
Everyone turned around in confusion.
Standing by the door was a figure in black with a tactical backpack.
He held a white access card in his hand, tipped his cap, and blew a cheerful whistle at them.
His backpack was noticeably bulkier than a standard-issue one, with several unidentifiable straps tied to the sides.
He slammed the locking lever down, then spun and dove for the open cargo hatch.
Howling high-altitude wind ripped into the cabin, roaring like a wild beast.
In front of thirty stunned faces, Keran grinned over his shoulder.
“Later.”
And with that, he stepped off the edge of the plane.
Thirty guards froze in place.
Zevran stared out at the sea of clouds beyond the hatch.
He was silent for several seconds.
Then a slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Interesting,” he said.
“I suppose we all underestimated him.”
The Squad A captain stood beside him, veins bulging in his forehead.
He stared at the black figure vanishing into the clouds, unable to say a single word.