"But that's exactly why we should be here." Saeko insisted. "If we can get to that whale first, we could become—"
She was interrupted by the sound of an alarm.
A loud, blaring siren echoed across the port, cutting through the night. It came from the main building. The workers froze in their tracks, looking around in confusion. The guards immediately went on high alert, their weapons at the ready.
"What the hell?" Miku hissed.
"The scarred man's disappearance couldn't have been noticed this fast." Tysone muttered with furrowed brows. "Something else must've triggered it..."
Tysone had Saeko and Miku further retreat in their covers. All around the port, there were signs of hasty movement. The workers stopped what they were doing, and the guards stirred like a disturbed hive. Soon, the sound of gunshots and screams echoed from the eastern side of the port.
The sound of frantic radio chatter filled the air.
"Fuck, something's happening at the pier!" One of the guards yelled out.
"What's going on?!"
"We're under attack! Move! Move! Call the enforcers!"
"Under attack? Wha—ghk!"
The voice was cut off by a bloodcurdling screech. Tysone signaled for Saeko and Miku to follow him, and they moved, darting through the containers toward the source of the commotion.
The three of them reached the edge of the container yard, peering over a stack of crates.
The pier was in chaos.
Dozens of people were running in all directions, screaming, firing their weapons. Through the crossfire, seemingly impervious to the bullets or perhaps just incredibly lucky, was a Suzuki model weaving through the chaos, professionally skidding around corners to avoid the bulk of the bullets.
An arm, or a leg, or a bit of a torso would burst out of the motorcycle's trunk at high speeds, leaving a trail of gore behind it. Tysone's eyes widened at the sight of that familiar motorcycle, the helmeted rider, the silver-haired passenger raining down bullets upon the guards. The workers themselves, caught in the fight, didn't suffer any casualty, but anyone foolish enough to point a gun at them was shot down mercilessly.
"Huh..." Miku muttered, her eyes wide.
Black Label.
They had fucking come.
It made sense, actually. Whatever was here was so important that it drew the attention of those people. They must've followed the trail of clues that led to the port and decided to strike now, when everyone was gathered. Black Label was a non-governmental vigilante strike force under the guise of a Hospital.
For them to come here, it meant that there was a 'cancer' here that needed to be removed. Either Nakamura or the whale itself.
The motorcycle continued its assault, its rider a blur of motion, dodging and weaving through the hail of bullets. Tysone didn't want to confront what was a massive underground organization and its protagonist. It was something he was wary about. Protagonists. While it was real life now, that didn't mean that those protagonists weren't blessed with an insane amount of luck, or plot armor, as it were.
"We need to go. Now." He whispered to the girls. "Whatever is happening here, we're not getting involved."
Saeko nodded, her expression grim. Miku looked disappointed, but she knew better than to argue.
But as they turned to leave, they were met by a group of five guards, led by a tall, muscular woman with short, spiky hair and a long, wicked-looking blade.
"Who the fuck are you guys?"
Seeing the ill intentions practically dripping from the woman's eyes, Saeko didn't stay still, though her methods of resolution were far from peaceful. With a burst of speed that faintly sounded like an insect's buzzing, the kendo practitioner reappeared behind the spiky-haired woman and sheathed her katana, looking like she had never unsheathed it in the first place—to an untrained civilian's eyes, maybe.
Because the muscular woman's head was sliced clean off the stump, never even having noticed the attack as it rolled to the ground with a dull thud.
Then the blood came gushing out in a disgusting display of gore. Saeko looked remarkably pleased, a dark look of satisfaction on her beautiful face, even as the upward stream of gore dribbled on her face like rain from hell.
Miku's crossbow twanged, and one of the guards collapsed, a bolt through his throat. He clutched at it helplessly before falling down, right where the butt of the bolt stuck out from, further jamming the shaft inside his throat.
He gurgled and suffocated on his own pool of blood.
The remaining three charged, but they were no match for Saeko, whose blade dismembered and beheaded the rest before they could even formulate the instinct to flee from a much larger beast.
Tysone didn't have to intervene for this one. In a contest of speed and pure killing efficiency, Sakeko perhaps had an edge over him.
With such a big halberd and his fire powers, he'd have made a huge ruckus annihilating the guards. Saeko, with her smaller blade and more precise movements, was a silent wraith.
The fight was over in seconds. Saeko wiped the blood off her blade with a flick of her wrist. The blood splattered all over the ground. The smile on her face remained fixed. Miku looked more disturbed by the enjoyment the older woman was deriving from it rather than the act of murder itself—which in their defense, was merely anticipated self-defense.
Tysone nodded towards Saeko and Miku, looking back at the fight on the other side, glad that the motorcycle was still engaged.
This whole scenario was a powder keg, and they were standing in the middle of it.
He spoke into the radio. "Mule. Get ready to move."
"We copy." Takashi's voice came back.
"Tortoise?"
"We copy too." Kenji said.
"Stay where you are. We're coming back."
There was no need to have them expose themselves unnecessarily, not with such a riot happening right on the port.
They ran back the way they came, retracing their steps, careful to avoid any other patrols. The alarm was still blaring, the sounds of fighting echoing across the port. The Black Label motorcycle was still wreaking havoc. With the addition of Black Label, Tysone wanted to move carefully, especially if (and it was highly likely) more of its members were inbound.
Arashi Mikami and Mikoto Kiba, he could handle. Even if they were Rank 2 evolved.
But Black Label had more than just them. Each one an elite individual that could very well be the equivalent of a Rank 2, and that was not to mention the sheer technology and firepower at their disposal. The motorcycle itself was a beast of a machine, heavily armed and armored.
The fact that they were here meant that they were not to be fucked with. And Tysone was one that didn't want to fuck around and find out.
With Saeko and Miku in two, he scanned the area for the best path to take without being noticed. The sound of gunfire intensified. Tysone had to thank his enhanced senses and reaction speed. With such depth of vision, he could lead his team to—
The world fractured. Something cold rose up, scratching Tysone's spine. His gut churned. His heart thumped faster and faster. It was the first time that he felt such an instinct for danger.
He moved.
His body reacted before his mind could process the threat. A violent shove sent Saeko stumbling left, Miku tumbling right. Tysone threw himself backward in an awkward, graceless dive.
CRACK.
The sound arrived a split second after the impact. The container behind where they'd stood—where his head had been—exploded inward.
A hole the size of a fist materialized in the steel, edges glowing with heat.
Miku landed hard, her breath knocked out in a pained gasp. Saeko rolled with the fall, coming up in a crouch, katana already in hand, her eyes wide with shock as she attempted to locate the sniper.
Tysone hit the ground shoulder-first. The fall itself wasn't painful.
His eyes were locked on the hole in the container, still smoking from the sniper's bullet.
The shot had come from above. High ground. The crane structure, maybe? Or the roof of one of the warehouses?
He didn't need to look to know they'd been spotted.
Someone was hunting them.
"Cover!"
Tysone hissed. Saeko immediately dove into a roll and sprung up gracefully behind another container. Miku scrambled behind Tysone, figuring that was the safest place to be at the moment.
Another bullet rained down from high above, as if the heavens themselves were striking judgement on Tysone for his poor decisions so far.
Author's Note:
If you're enjoying the story and want to read ahead or support my work, you can check out my P@treon at [email protected]/LordCampione. But don't worry—all chapters will eventually be public. Just being here and reading means the world to me. Thank you for your time and support.