Amid the lingering haze of dust stirred by the devastating force of the railgun, Sven seized the chaos with a killer's instinct. Though the wounds on his body had already healed, the internal damage at his side still throbbed with pain, but he forced it down and launched himself forward at supersonic speed. In an instant, he closed the distance and drove a heavy punch straight into 23, sending the P-Type unit leader flying back into the ruins with a thunderous crash.
Before anyone could even react, Sven twisted midair and followed through with a powerful kick, striking Drago and sending his former comrade hurtling into the hood of Chloe's pickup. The metal buckled under the impact with a violent crunch.
With the immediate obstacles cleared, Sven didn't hesitate. He propelled himself upward into the shattered ruins, heading straight for Zenos, the scar-masked man holding the massive weapon above. A short blade flashed into his hand, catching the harsh sunlight, his eyes burning with murderous intent as he aimed to finish the Outlaw assassin in a single decisive strike.
But Sven had underestimated the opponent before him. Even if Zenos couldn't track the inhuman speed of a modified human with his eyes alone, years of survival in the Outlands more than made up for it. In the split second Sven raised his blade to deliver the finishing strike, Zenos snapped his arm up, pulling a medium-sized shield mounted at his side into position just in time.
Clang!
The impact of steel against the short blade rang out like thunder through the ruins. The shield had been meticulously crafted, layered with hardened steel fused with high-grade rubber to absorb shock, with a carbon fiber core inside that kept it both lightweight and incredibly durable.
The force of the collision made Zenos stagger back a step, but Sven took the worse of it. The recoil from the shield, engineered specifically to redirect destructive force, blasted him backward from the point of impact in an instant.
"You might have the power, but charging in like that won't get you anywhere. I've seen plenty like you… and I've buried just as many."
Zenos spoke coldly from behind his mask, tightening his grip on the steel shield.
"Damn it!"
Sven cursed as he forced himself back to his feet, frustration boiling over.
Deep down, he knew Zenos was right. He was nothing more than an ordinary man who had been unlucky enough to be taken into an experiment and come out with inhuman strength. He wasn't a trained soldier, not a seasoned combatant, and certainly not someone who could stand toe-to-toe with a professional killer. The fiercest thing he had ever done before being taken to the research facility was argue with a market vendor after failing to haggle the price.
.....
Seizing the moment of chaos, 23 lunged straight at Drago. This time, he relied solely on his fists, each strike packed with inhuman strength, instead of using any weapons. The last clash had taught him well. Anything he carried could be taken and turned against him, becoming the very fangs that would end his life.
"Get out of here, now!"
Drago shouted, warning his teammates as he twisted away from the storm of punches coming at him.
Chloe didn't hesitate. Still gripping the wheel, she slammed the accelerator and swung the pickup out of the kill zone immediately. In the narrow, debris-choked alleys of the old district, a vehicle that size was nothing more than a massive, immobile target, a liability in a fight like this.
At the same time, Edward and Jenkins split off in opposite directions, darting for cover while keeping watch on the unfolding battle. The center of the alley was left behind as a stage, set for a direct confrontation between two generations of combat-focused modified humans, ready to tear into each other once more.
Alicia chose to follow Edward. She recognized him. Gareth, on the other hand, went after Jenkins. He had no name, no record, no presence on any wanted list, but the fact that he was with Drago was reason enough to take him in.
.....
"I don't buy it, you know. Skill beating speed? No way. No matter how good you are, you're still just human. If you can't keep up, it means nothing."
Sven spoke as he stared at the cold, scratch-marked mask. A suffocating aura of malice and killing intent poured off Zenos without restraint, crushing the space around him until there was barely any opening left to exploit.
"If that's what you believe, then go ahead and stake your life on it. The order is to take you alive, but if it gets troublesome, I won't bother holding back."
Zenos replied, his voice steady and absolute.
"Heh… so the Outlaws want me too, huh?"
Sven let out a mocking chuckle.
"Being this popular is a pain."
With that, he lowered his stance, gathering power into his legs, then launched himself forward at his maximum speed, aiming to shatter the defensive wall of the scar-masked hunter with sheer velocity.
.....
The clash between 23 and Drago escalated into something brutally primal, a savage exchange of blows where neither side bothered with defense anymore. Each of them simply poured everything they had into every strike, trading hit for hit as the thunderous impact of flesh against flesh echoed relentlessly through the narrow alleys of the ruined district.
"Hey! Are we seriously gonna keep this up until sunset or what?!"
Drago shouted as his head snapped to the side from another punch.
"I can do this all day… the real question is how long you can endure the pain."
23 replied in a cold, emotionless tone, as if his body were nothing more than a machine incapable of feeling.
"Every hit hurts, damn it! I'm not some numb freak like you!"
Drago fired back, driving a straight punch into the other man's chin.
"Seriously though, ever since you got those powers, have you even slept with a woman? Or are you so dead inside that thing of yours doesn't even work anymore?!"
He threw the taunt out without hesitation, even as fists, kicks, knees, and elbows rained down on him in a relentless barrage. It was clear Drago was trying to get under his opponent's skin, searching for even the smallest opening in a fight that showed no sign of ending.
.....
Jenkins steadied himself, forcing his focus as he half-ran, half-staggered into an open area. He knew he was at a disadvantage. He wasn't familiar with the terrain, and his outdated dust mask lacked the advanced sensors others might rely on. But he still had one trump card: his Thermal Scan system, which allowed him to see through the orange haze and distinguish living targets from the surrounding debris with precision.
He also knew that the P-Type unit had a critical weakness. They didn't wear masks. No matter how resistant their bodies were to pollution, the naked eye could never pierce through a dense dust storm as clearly as his thermal imaging could.
Clack… clack… clack…
The faint sound of something hard striking concrete drifted in on the wind. It started soft, then grew sharper, faster, steadily closing in. On Jenkins's display, a single human heat signature appeared, walking straight toward him with slow, deliberate steps. There was no hesitation, no sign of uncertainty, as if the other person could see exactly where he was hiding.
Sweat began to bead along Jenkins's hairline beneath the mask as the heat signature crept closer into striking range.
"That's… impossible…"
He murmured under his breath, the pressure tightening around his chest as his heart began to pound. He made a decision and shifted his path toward a nearby abandoned building, relying on the silent movement skills he had always trusted.
Step by step, he backed away carefully, his eyes locked on the thermal display to keep the target within sight. But the deep red heat signature continued advancing with unwavering precision, turning after him and entering the building as if guided by something unseen.
Clack… clack…
The strange sound persisted, faint yet distinct. The figure on the screen still moved like an ordinary man taking a casual walk, showing no sign of actively searching for him. And yet the question that sent a chill down Jenkins's spine remained the same… how was this man, Gareth Orchard, able to follow his exact path through the dense haze so flawlessly without any visible equipment at all?
.....
Alicia kept up the relentless pursuit, her boots striking sharply against the concrete as the sound echoed through the maze-like alleys of the ruined buildings.
"Hey! Stop! I said stop! Are you even listening?!"
She shouted in frustration, her voice sharp as her target continued slipping away from her grasp.
"Damn it! She's still on my tail? Give it a rest already!"
Edward cursed between ragged breaths, pushing himself harder as he tried to shake her off. But the strength of a P-Type operative far exceeded that of an ordinary human. In the end, he ran straight into a dead end, stopping at the rooftop parking lot of an abandoned shopping complex.
"This is bad… where the hell do I go now? I've never been here before…"
He muttered to himself, scanning the area for any sign of a fire escape. When he glanced back, Alicia had already slowed her pace and taken position at the entrance to the parking lot, cutting off his retreat.
"Stop. Don't move."
Her voice came out firm, her eyes locked onto him without wavering.
"You know I've got a parasite inside me, right? If you try to run again, even a little… I'll use it to blow your brain apart."
The threat, laced with killing intent, froze Edward in place. The mere words "blow your brain apart" pressed down on him like a physical weight, as if a needle had been driven against his temple, ready to pierce through at any moment.
.....
Sven launched into a relentless assault, moving at a speed far beyond what the human eye could track. His blade flashed again and again, each strike aimed to end the hunter's life in an instant. Yet what was truly unsettling was how Zenos responded. He reacted to every attack with precise timing, blocking from every angle as if he could read Sven's movements before they even happened.
"Hey… don't tell me you're one of those experimental subjects too? That's a bit too inhuman, don't you think?!"
Sven panted, his breathing growing heavier as sweat began to trickle beneath his mask, exhaustion creeping in. In contrast, Zenos stood firm before him, not even slightly out of breath. His grip on the steel shield and the railgun remained steady and unshaken.
"What kind of nonsense are you talking about… I'm not some idiot who let the government toy with my body like you did."
Zenos replied, his voice cold and unwavering.
"You and I live in completely different worlds. I was born and raised in the Outlands. Every second is survival. Every step is a risk. That's what you call experience… and experience becomes instinct."
His voice hardened, pressing down with quiet intimidation.
"How about this…"
He trailed off, slowly reaching up to pull out a thick scarf. With deliberate calm, he wrapped it over his mask, covering his eyes completely in darkness. His fingers pressed a switch at the side, shutting down every sensor and display system, leaving only the steady hum of the air filter as proof that he was still breathing.
Clang!
Without a second thought, he dropped both the railgun and the steel shield onto the concrete. Standing there with nothing but his bare hands, he chose to face the fight in the darkness he had created himself.
"Don't push it too far, damn it!"
Sven snapped, his voice sharp with irritation at being challenged in such a mocking way. The fluid in the tubes along his cheek began to surge faster, driven by the spike in his emotions. He lowered his stance until he was nearly touching the ground, preparing to show the scar-masked man that speed at an inhuman level was not something mere instinct could handle.
Sven didn't hesitate. He launched himself forward with even greater speed, leaving behind nothing but a blurred afterimage in the haze. Yet in the split second when his blade should have struck, Zenos simply shifted aside with calm precision, as if he could see every movement despite the darkness.
With a light motion, Zenos brushed against Sven's wrist to redirect the force of the strike, then nudged his ankle just slightly with the tip of his foot. But at Sven's immense speed, even that minor disruption was enough. His body lost balance instantly, sending him crashing forward and skidding violently across the concrete, kicking up a cloud of dust.
As Sven struggled to lift his head, his vision swimming, the first thing he saw was not the ruins or the haze, but a knee encased in hardened armor driving straight toward his face.
Crack!
The impact shattered his strange mask, fragments scattering across the ground along with the container of mysterious fluid that had once circulated through the tubes. Sven's body jerked once before going completely still, unconscious beneath the foot of the scar-masked man.
.....
Inside the suffocating silence of the abandoned building, both Jenkins and Gareth stood perfectly still, like statues. Neither made the first move. They both understood that a single mistake could cost them their lives. Jenkins had the advantage of seeing his enemy clearly on the thermal display, while Gareth remained an enigma, moving with calm, deliberate ease.
"Well… this silence is getting a bit uncomfortable."
Gareth broke it first, lightly tapping the metal tonfa in his hand against the concrete floor in a steady rhythm. Clack… clack…
Jenkins said nothing. He kept his breathing controlled, careful not to let even the faintest sound escape.
"Come on… you're not even on our target list. Why not step out and introduce yourself properly?"
Gareth continued in a half-playful tone, though his footsteps still circled nearby.
Jenkins didn't take the bait. His gaze flicked downward until he spotted a dented, discarded soda can on the floor. Slowly, as quietly as possible, he bent down and picked it up before tossing it toward the opposite side of the room.
Clang… roll… roll…
The sound of aluminum striking the ground rang out, immediately drawing Gareth's attention. He paused, then turned and moved quickly toward the source of the noise. Jenkins watched the heat signature on his display drift farther away, and in that moment, he pieced together something crucial. Gareth must possess some form of sound-based perception.
Seizing the opportunity, Jenkins began to withdraw, slipping out of the building as silently as possible, heading back to regroup with Chloe at the pickup as planned.
.....
The brutal fistfight between 23 and Drago showed no sign of slowing, the two of them trading blows and insults in equal measure. But just as another storm of punches was about to erupt, 23 suddenly halted his attack.
"What… don't tell me you're actually getting tired?"
Drago sneered, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. Static crackled from 23's dust-covered communicator, cutting through the sound of their heavy breathing.
"Sven's been captured! Does anyone copy?!"
Sophie's voice burst through, tense and urgent.
"Then go after them! Forget about the girl for now!"
23 shouted back into the device, but the signal was clearly unstable.
"Sven's been captured! What should I do?! Can anyone hear me?! 23… Alicia… Gareth, respond!"
Her voice repeated over and over, with no sign that she was receiving any reply.
"Damn it… the radio's dead. Got carried away, didn't I."
23 muttered in frustration, realizing too late that the force of his clash with Drago had destroyed his communication device, leaving him effectively blind and deaf in the middle of the operation.
"I'll settle this with you next time, 29."
He left the words hanging with a vengeful glare before turning and disappearing into the thick haze, rushing off to salvage the situation.
"What the hell?! That's it? Ending it already? Fine! Don't forget to come back for round two! Take too long and I'm charging interest!"
Drago shouted after him, laughing as he watched 23 vanish. It was clear that, to 23, the Outlaws securing one of the experimental subjects mattered far more than capturing the one standing right in front of him.