"I'LL SHO—"
Before my index finger could contract, an unimaginable force slammed into my abdomen. It felt as if a concrete block had been dropped from a rooftop directly into my organs, tearing them to shreds.
The air exploded from my lungs. My knees buckled, hitting the floorboards with a heavy thud. I fell on my knees, violently vomiting onto the wood—burning alcohol, undigested food, and gastric mucus spilling out in a wretched mess. Before I could even wipe my mouth or draw a breath, the shadow loomed over me again.
THWACK!
A brutal, heavy boot caught me in the exact same spot, lifting my ribs. The metallic, coppery taste of blood instantly flooded my mouth. I vomitted again, spitting a dark red stream onto the floor, the leftover dark red trailing down my chin and dripping past my lips.
"Already back into reality, huh?" Prisma asked, towering over me like a literal giant.
God, it hurt. The pain was an agonizing, holding my lungs tight so it refuse to expand. Even Brett's beating the other day couldn't even hold a candle.
"What? Cat get your toungue?" she smiled, a dead, freezing expression that halted my breathing entirely. "Or you want another round?"
"Ugh... fuck..." I groaned, clutching my ruptured stomach while kneeling in my own vomit.
The reality of my stupidity crashed over me. My pride had almost cost me my life. I had to swallow the hatred, the anger, and the blinding humiliation.
"I... I understand. I'll proceed..."
Before I could drag myself back up to my feet, a sudden metallic click sliced through the room.
I looked up through my blurred vision. There stood Mark, his eyes totally lost its intent but his posture rigid, leveling his heavy-caliber handgun directly at the back of the squad leader's head.
"Don't touch my benefactor, you dumb bitch!"
"Ohoo, What do we have here? Care to explain to him, Edgar?!" A little snort could be heard from Prisma.
Wavelenght detection. Mid Alpha at Prefrontal lobe.
Shit, I couldn't let him break the anchor yet, or it might be me who actually dies for sure.
I forced my step towards Mark, holding my bruise and throbbing body together. "Mark. It was a misunderstanding. Here is my Boss. You can call her, Prisma." I slowly patted his shoulder again to keep the anchor deep. "So you know, this one over here is the one I told you about before. Please don't make things more difficult for me. Or else, my work could be fucked up."
With a forced smile and a little chuckle I tried my best to get Mark understand. I hoped that introducing a female boss—the one Mark hated so much—would trigger his own past experiences so he wouldn't ask me more.
"Alright. So she is the boss that makes you suffer all this time, Ed? No wonder." Without looking at the rest of the squad, he whispered to me, "Why don't we continue our drink, Ed? And bring them with us too. The more the merrier."
Drinking now? With all of my waste lingering on the ground? I didn't even have the appetite to take a single sip, let alone join a drinking spree.
But it made sense. This was bound to happen when the prefrontal lobe isn't activating normally. It shuts down the mind's ability to process reality or continiously self-doubting.
That is why the laws of common sense fail completely under deep hypnosis. To put it simply, despite the raw violence just now—my waste fluids scattering on the floor, all these men in fully tactical suits surrounding us—his broken brain just phrased it as a normal thing and let it pass. He just wanted to keep drinking.
I glanced at Prisma, and she gestured for me to play along.
"Here is the thing, Mark," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Why don't we continue our drinking and upgrade it to a little party at your place? And I would get to know your friends as well. Drinking with new friends at a party. How wonderful is that, don't you agree?".
I chose my words carefully, making sure no phrases carried any underlying threat. If I messed up, his prefrontal lobe would suddenly spike into High Beta due to a sudden sense of danger, snapping him right out of the trance.
"Yes, we can," Mark replied, a trace of doubt flickering across his blank face. "But my place isn't the best to hold a party. You know, the vibes and the people seem tense."
I immediately countered his doubt with a cheerful, friendly tone. "Even better! With enough alcohol, even a tomb turns into an amusement park. Trust me!"
"alright if you say so. I trust you, Ed." with a little nod he agreed to my request to hold a drinking party at his place. Meaning, we all would storm into his hideout anytime soon.
"Ah, forgot. I need to buy a lot of drinks. How many people are there?" I asked, probing for numbers.
"Including me, there were 23 in total. But I'm not sure about my boss. She often goes out." Mark pondering over the residences.
"Nice, it will be big. But it's already midnight. Is anyone even still awake? And also, if we don't want to run short on drinks, how many people there have a body as big as my female boss? Or who would be categorized as a heavy drinker?" I slowly mixed my questions to hide my true intentions.
"Actually, not many... including the people responsible for guarding the place. Six people for cleaning and the kitchen should be fall asleep by now. And about the size, there is one who is almost as big as your boss, but not so towering. But I'm curious, Ed—just how do you plan to conquer her in bed as per your planning earlier? She seems so big. And your... thing?"
A little cheeky already, huh?
I took a quick glance at my boss behind me. Ugh... never mind. Hope she didn't hear that.
While walking toward the bartender, I calculated the odds. Seventeen combat specialists, and one of them had the same high-tier traits as Prisma. Considering five to six people at most would be guarding the place on shift, we basically needed to deal with twelve people. And comparing to us... it was twelve against nine—no, eight. I didn't even know how to hit the taget perfectly yet, let alone understand the formations deployed by Prisma.
"Squad leader, I need a hand. There are two boxes that need to be lifted," I told Prisma.
Two box, no less. And it was necessary to hold the anchor stay deep within Mark. It leaves me no choice.
"Should we bring all of this?" Prisma asked me.
And what could I say? an important act to keep Mark in his trence state? want to fucked me up?
"Of course, Boss. My best friend here has his own circumstances. So we plan to be drinking in his place. You would agree to help my friend, wouldn't you?" This is the roundabout way to explain it to Prisma. I hope she understand. I had no plans to explain everything to her in this moment.
"Alright. Ben and Dimas, You both help him bring those boxes!."
The two giant just nodded slightly and help me pick up the heavy boxes.
"Beauty, where to buy? Ah..ah. And I apologize for the commotion earlier. Please deduct all of the expenses as well." Before the bartender could answer. I already shifted the focus to Nina. The one and only colleague I considered a friend.
"Eee, Nina, my Goddess, you know I recently joined, so my salary still up in the sky. Can you help me just this one?" With an awkward smile I ask Nina for help.
"No need. I'll pay. This was for the mission purposes."
To my surprise, this heartless giant offered to help. With her own money at that? She had a soft spot too. what was i thinking? Although her build was like a monster, deep inside, she was still a human after all.
"Thanks Boss. I appreciate it!."
Once the transaction cleared and the commotion damages were settled, we finally moved out. The heavy iron doors of the bar slammed shut behind us, cutting off the dim light and the smell of stale alcohol.
Finally.. some fresh air..
The night air hit my face, cold and sharp, forcing me to breathe through the lingering taste of iron in my throat. Mark took the lead without hesitation, his rigid, hypnotized silhouette guiding our small squad deeper into the labyrinth of the dark alleys. We walked in a tense, silent formation, the heavy boxes weighing down the soldiers behind me.
As the bar faded into the shadows behind us, Nina quietly stepped out of the ranks and came to my side.
"Wow, Ed! I didn't expect you to snap like that... I know you aren't a pampered boy by your looks. But to point a gun right under her chin? You're a banger. Hahaha! I like your courage!"
With a heavy sigh, I replied, "I don't know, perhaps it was due to the alcohol. I felt like my fear was nowhere to be found, and the urge to take revenge soared through the sky. This was a first for me. Not like my usual self" I clarified it to Nina, not really expecting her to believe me.
"But still... hehe. Anyway, to appear so fearless back then... do you know the difference between a Controller and a Receiver? You knew she was a Tier One Controller, right..right?"
I like this about Nina, While talking here and there. she keep expressing her feeling through her behaviour. Jumping while happy, and closing our face just because she is curious. How lovable...
"I don't know, and why should I care? As long as my aim puts the bullet inside her head, wouldn't she lose her breath and die?" Actually, I didn't care. It was Nina who always said to aim for the head.
With a wide smile, she leaned her face close to mine. I could even feel her breath down against my neck.
"Once in a battle, Squad Leader Prisma fought in front as a vanguard. She took all the bullets shot at her from the enemy. And I saw all the bullets get stuck on the surface of her skin, just denting a little into her flesh. A second later, the bullets were pushed away from her flesh and scattered right under her." Without noticing my dark expression, she added a final verdict: "It means... when you pull the trigger, you die!"
The chilling whisper from Nina really made all the hair on my body stand up. And just before I could ask her further, I suddenly heard Mark's voice upfront.
"We arrived. Here is my place. Let's go meet my friends."
I looked ahead. A big concrete wall surrounded by nothing but darkness. I spotted six people standing completely still behind a massive metallic door, pulling guard duty through my wavelenght detection.
I walked slowly to reach Mark's side. "Alright, Mark, let's drink to our hearts' content!"
"Yeah, Ed! Let's go inside. My friends are always stationed right behind that door," Mark replied enthusiastically with a friendly tone.
Just as I wanted to gesture for Mark to lead the way, I saw the towering figure of Prisma standing right behind him, Mark, Our suspect.
She swung her hand fast. So fast that my eyes couldn't even register the movement she made surrounded by dark shade.
And just when my eyes arrived at Prisma's hand trajectory.
Crack! Blurttss...
The entirety of Mark's remaining head splattered all over me. Blood, chunks of bone, and warm, unidentifiable matter sprayed across my face.
My breath left my lungs. I suffocated. My mind blanked out. Hands, feet, and every single part of my body froze, locked in a violent tremor. Just now... she...
"All units, get ready. We storm the gate on my command!" Prisma ordered.
What the fuck is happening?!