014: A Timely Gift in the Midst of Snow
[Eden City – Midsection of the Old Industrial Zone]
John pocketed his gun and closed the car door. The Silver Knight silently slipped away in stealth mode.
A drone hummed overhead—a patrol hovercar. According to municipal news, these devices were deployed to ease the burden on grassroots police forces, with considerable resources invested. Yet, the police clearly had given up. The drone merely passed overhead as crimes unfolded right beneath it.
A downward cone of light pierced the dusk.
An abandoned factory with a brown corrugated roof stood amid the industrial park. The concrete beams and rolling shutters were canvases for wildly varied graffiti, while debris littered the grounds.
A flashlight flickered through a broken window.
[Mission Update]
[Eliminate Maddox Gang’s Henchmen (Incomplete)]
John crept closer, catching snarls from within the factory.
“Hey, old man, come out!”
“We see you.”
“We’re gonna skin you alive for this.”
Rat-a-tat-tat! Gunfire cracked in warning.
Sparks flew as bullets skimmed the overhead pipes above John’s head. He froze, and mission intel refreshed in his mind.
[Optional: Hack Enemy Voice Channel]
[Optional: Infiltrate Factory Surveillance System]
John wasn’t foolish enough to risk everything for Dr. Lian without knowing the enemy’s numbers, augmentation level, or chip strength.
Could he trust Lian’s text that only low-level thugs were present? What if a heavy hitter lurked nearby? Charging in blindly with just his gun would be suicide.
John observed patiently.
Two desert vehicles arrogantly blocked the factory’s entrance, each branded with a red Maddox Gang insignia. One driver leaned on a hood, smoking. His eyes were replaced with night vision goggles, emitting a faint red glow, and a kinetic submachine gun hung at his waist.
But the man’s vigilance was poor. Probably never expected anyone to come rescue some unlucky fool.
After inspecting the vehicle interior, John drew his silenced pistol and fired at point-blank range to the back of the driver’s head. The bullet didn’t penetrate the skull, likely stopped by implants.
The driver collapsed forwards with a dull thud.
John dragged the body into the corner to avoid detection and quickly stripped the gear.
The bulletproof vest was good enough.
But the driver’s pants were better.
[Equipment: Nano-Tech Tactical Cargo Pants]
[Description: Street-grade, breathable, stab-resistant, with magazine loops.]
John also found two magnetic grenades. Setting their timers, he tossed them beneath the vehicles. The doors were locked—no time to search inside.
He plugged a data cable into the corpse’s interface.
The driver’s brain was a pulp; neural transmitters and chips completely destroyed.
John fiddled with the connection but failed to access the voice channel.
“A pity,” he muttered, scanning the abandoned factory.
Based on his corporate knowledge—the company wouldn’t willingly abandon fixed assets. Though the exterior was rundown, the basic circuitry should be intact, at worst, just a locked distribution box.
John climbed the rickety ladder to the second floor, pried open the control room, flipped the backup breaker, and plugged in the data line.
[Old Factory Surveillance System (Hacked)]
A mechanical camera in the corner stirred quietly.
Through shared feeds, John located eight armed figures. Judging by their builds and vehicle load limits, they were likely all present.
John had upgraded the control system.
The Atlanta Virtual Network allowed remote access to the plant’s cameras.
But without ocular implants, he couldn’t sync the data—only switching back and forth between two views.
“This is dizzying,” he muttered.
Inside, the enemies searched meticulously. Sneaking in risked running straight into gun barrels.
John took the high ground and opened fire.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
His modified Croc felt perfect in his grip.
He emptied several rounds into one opponent. The bullet trajectory correction chip worked flawlessly—all shots struck the enemy’s head.
Blood splattered instantly.
The uncontrolled corpse fired wildly.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
Screams erupted in the warehouse as bullets flew.
John didn’t wait for the enemy to fall before shooting the next target. Bullets whistled through the warehouse, hitting flesh.
Three armor-piercing rounds tore into an arm.
But the man endured, snarling like a superhuman, returning fire several times before collapsing.
“Damn, subdermal armor!” John cursed through gritted teeth.
The Nightfall Bar’s enforcers were tougher than street gangs; all augmented, requiring multiple shots to bring down.
John’s only advantage was information.
He rolled and dodged in the dark warehouse, switching camera views to find suitable targets.
Priority: take out those with night vision first.
John committed. Moving in close, he raised his gun and blew a thug’s head to pulp from the side.
“Over here!”
“We’re Nightfall’s men! You want to die?”
“Damn you, die!”
Curses and gunshots merged chaotically.
The crates behind John were riddled with bullets.
He trusted his gun was superior. With care, he still had a chance against this mob.
John maneuvered in the shadows.
Lowering his posture for cover, he popped up and killed a one-eyed augmented thug.
Suddenly, all enemies were alert.
Despite his speed, bullets whizzed past as gunfire intensified, the warehouse walls riddled with new holes.
John’s scalp tingled; his heart pounded.
A sharp sting blossomed on his cheek.
The next second—
Warm blood seeped down his neck, soaking his undershirt, sticky against his skin.
It felt as if Death itself breathed beside his ear.
[Find Lian Randall (Incomplete)]
John closed his eyes, bracing.
Boom!
A car outside the factory exploded, its steel frame groaning as it tumbled into a wall.
Flames roared skyward.
All foes inside were distracted.
John seized the moment, crawling and rolling toward a stack of containers.
Hollow inside, seemingly empty.
Following the text message’s hint, he groped along the ceiling and tore away a tattered disguise cloth.
There, curled up inside, was a man.
Dr. Lian, clutching a rusty steel pipe, trembled.
Nervous but composed, he leapt down.
Together, they vaulted through the broken window, running desperately, moving away from the warehouse while nearing a small crossroads.
The Silver Knight waited, engine humming.
John slid into the driver’s seat. Before Lian could fasten his seatbelt, a hail of bullets tore past the frame.
“Drive! Hurry!” Lian shouted, panic breaking free.
John drifted in place, accelerating toward the nearest exit.
Just as they neared the old factory’s edge, two thugs suddenly appeared, guns raised.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
The Silver Knight’s windshield peppered with white impact dots.
John and Lian ducked simultaneously.
John slammed the accelerator. The sports car roared forward.
Ahead lay the industrial district’s river.
John braked sharply, spinning the car in a half-arc, leaving tire marks, nearly losing control.
No time to relax—the car jolted violently.
Bang!
A hulking man dropped from above, landing squarely on the hood.
His legs were clearly augmented. No telling where he’d jumped from.
He wielded an outrageously large shotgun.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
The passenger-side gun fired first.
Dr. Lian instinctively grabbed the Croc from the console, unleashing a full magazine of expanded rounds without letting go.
The windshield shattered instantly.
John felt his right ear throb.
Glass shards and blood splattered around his head, dirty fragments littering the driver’s seat.
The giant trembled under the barrage.
John couldn’t see the road ahead, relying purely on instinct.
The Silver Knight’s tires screamed, engine roaring. The car’s momentum dragged the body off the hood.
[End of excerpt]