Without a word from Leon Black, Mike Taylor took the initiative. He cracked open the black box in his arms and pulled out a high-explosive grenade, eliciting a horrified gasp from Dum Dum.
"Arasaka H101," Mike muttered, examining the device. "Eighty-meter kill radius. One hundred and twenty grams of plastic explosive."
When it came to weapons, Mike was always more talkative. Perhaps Dum Dum's earlier 'artistic' bomb rigging had earned a trace of respect—Mike even gave him a slight smile, though it looked more menacing than friendly.
"Let's make this fast," Leon said, pushing open the door to the room where Brick was held captive. Surprisingly, the room's temperature was comfortable—a stark contrast to the chaos outside.
Ignoring Mike, who had started casually dismantling the mech like it was a LEGO set, Leon set the box down and sat cross-legged in front of Brick's containment cell.
"Hey, stop playing dead. Want to chat?"
Brick didn't move.
Leon chuckled. "What? You really giving up? I'm the only one who might actually save you."
That got a reaction.
Brick stirred. Slowly, his bruised face lifted. He opened his eyes and stared at Leon with bloodshot weariness. "You'll save me?"
"That depends on what you can offer in return." Leon lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly. "I'm not in this for charity."
Brick hesitated, then said hoarsely, "A legendary weapon."
Leon's eyes narrowed slightly.
Legendary weapons weren't just fancy-sounding junk. In the real world, they were modified from epic-grade items using rare corporate blueprints—tightly guarded assets. When a corporation lost a legendary weapon, it would dispatch kill teams to recover or destroy it, no matter the cost.
"It's currently in the hands of a cyberpsycho," Brick added quickly, sensing Leon's skepticism. "He used to work security for Zeta Technologies."
That made things worse.
Cyberpsychos were unpredictable nightmares. The more their sanity crumbled, the stronger they became—and vice versa. A cyberpsycho wielding a legendary weapon? That wasn't just dangerous. It was a walking nuke with no off switch.
"If you save me, I'll tell you where it is—and I'll throw in some logistical support too."
Leon thought for a moment, then said, "I'll only disable the bomb. Your escape is your own problem. Once the device is disarmed, I want the location. Agreed?"
Brick nodded without hesitation. He had no leverage, and with Military Tech closing in, this was the only card he had left.
"The console beside me is linked to my implant. The mines in the room can be manually shut down from there," Brick said, motioning to a computer in the adjacent area.
Leon stood and walked over. He cracked his fingers and began typing. Password? Please. He bypassed the security layers through the system's backdoor and directly accessed the laser mine protocols. Within seconds, he found the wireless receiver, disabled the network connection, and initiated shutdown procedures.
All done in under a minute.
"Too easy," Leon muttered, a slight smirk curling his lips.
Out of habit, he opened the email client on the desktop, wondering if there were any secrets he could scoop up. The first unread message stared him in the face:
Disarm code: 9961
…Well, that would've been useful earlier.
But there was no time to dwell on that. Mike was still going one-on-one with a military-grade mech.
Mike, currently tearing apart a four-meter mech with his bare hands: ???
Leon turned back to Brick. "The bomb's off. Time to talk."
Brick's expression lit up with a twisted grin. "Thanks. You'll find it on the southwest coast of Meiquan District. And also…"
Without warning, Brick pulled a pistol from behind his back and fired straight at Leon.
"Go to hell, you fool!"
Bang!
The shot rang out—followed by stunned silence.
Blood and oil gushed from the new hole in Brick's forehead, flowing over his scarred face and dripping onto the cold floor with a splat. The light in his eyes dimmed instantly.
Leon stood unharmed, casually lowering his smoking pistol.
"Next time you try to kill someone, remember who you are. Ex-boss of the Vortex Gang. Not exactly trustworthy," he said mockingly, as if Brick's lifeless, wide-eyed stare deserved a lecture.
With a sigh, Leon raised his left hand. A monomolecular wire hissed out and sliced clean through Brick's neck like a hot knife through paper.
As far as Leon was concerned, Brick's head—valued at 150,000 credits on the black market—was the real legendary item.
He wrapped the head in a piece of cloth with practiced ease and stuffed it into a compartment in the box, his every move filled with a chilling nonchalance.
Then, he picked up the box, adjusted his collar, and stepped out of the blood-scented room with a calm, almost relaxed gait.
The hallway outside was a warzone. Bomb craters pocked the walls and floor. But just beyond a shattered steel gate, the scent of spice and chemical preservatives filled the air.
The old Biotech food processing facility stretched out in front of him, a dusty maze of outdated machinery and humming conveyor belts. Some of the equipment still worked, barely, groaning and whirring as if reluctant to die.
Huge vats and mixers were set up to produce synthetic protein meals—powder and chemical blends molded into food shapes. They looked like the real deal, but tasted like cardboard dipped in oil.
On the far side of the factory, under fractured skylights, the remains of battle were everywhere. Moonlight poured in through broken glass, painting the scene in pale silver.
Twisted steel from mechs. Scattered shell casings. Burned-out circuit boards still sparking faintly. A mech's leg—warped and bent—stuck up at an odd angle.
Standing in the center of it all was Mike Taylor.
His shirt was torn, but he was otherwise unharmed. Around him were neatly arranged piles of salvageable mech parts.
Beside him, Dum Dum clutched a light machine gun, wide-eyed and reverent.
"Nice haul, Mike," Leon said with a grin.
Mike didn't respond, only nodded. This wasn't anything special to him.
"These were just light mechs," Mike finally said, brushing some dust from his arm. "They've got artillery, sure, but they're too slow. Once you dodge the first barrage, they're easy prey."
A voice buzzed in Leon's earpiece.
"Captain—above you!"
It was Yuto from Arasaka's infiltration squad.
Leon looked up to see a thick rope descending through the shattered skylight.
"Looks like we're parting ways," he said to Dum Dum. "Hope to see you next time I drop in."
"Count on it! I'm Dum Dum!" the gang member said proudly. Despite the artillery pounding away outside, he seemed relaxed. The factory district's underground tunnels ran for kilometers—if push came to shove, they could vanish underground in minutes.
Leon and Mike handed up their newly acquired tech and gear. Then, securing themselves to the rope, they ascended out of the crumbling warzone, disappearing into the black night above.
Ãdvåñçé 60 çhàptêr àvàilàble óñ pàtreøn (Gk31)