The warehouse smelled of rust and dried oil. It was a cavernous, dark space filled with the skeletal remains of old assembly lines.
In the center, the three stolen Crawlers sat idling. The ninety-five refugees—now the Vance Mercenary Company—were huddled around small chemical fires, cleaning their scavenged weapons. They looked less like soldiers and more like armed ghosts.
Kaelen walked in through the side door. He didn't say a word. He walked to the central crate where Lyra was sharpening a piece of rebar.
Thud.
He dropped the heavy sack of 5,000 Platinum Coins onto the crate. The sound echoed through the silent factory like a gunshot.
"Boss?" Vex hopped down from the roof of a crawler. She eyed the sack. "Did you rob a bank?"
"I robbed a Bishop," Kaelen corrected, unbuttoning his coat. "Or rather, I convinced him to invest in his own destruction."
He opened the sack. The platinum coins gleamed in the dim light, casting long shadows.
"Money," Lyra whispered, staring at it. "That's enough to buy passage to the Inner Ring. We could live like kings."
"We aren't here to live like kings," Kaelen said coldly. "We're here to kill them."
He grabbed a handful of coins.
"System," Kaelen commanded. "Open the Wealth Exchange."
[System Shop Interface: Active.]
[Exchange Rate: 1 Platinum = 100 System Coins (SC).]
[Warning: Exchange is irreversible.]
"Convert 2,000 Platinum," Kaelen ordered.
The coins in the sack shimmered and dissolved into pixels of blue light, flowing into Kaelen's interface.
[Funds Added: 200,000 SC.]
The refugees gasped. To see physical wealth vanish into magic was terrifying.
Kaelen opened the [Unit Management] tab.
"You look like scavengers," Kaelen addressed the room. "You fight like scavengers. That works for survival, but it fails for conquest."
He selected the [Standard Issue Mercenary Kit (Tier 1)].
[Item: Nano-Weave Bodysuit (Light Armor).]
[Item: Kinetic Rifle (System Crafted - No Jamming).]
[Item: Nutrient Injector x5.]
[Cost: 1,500 SC per unit.]
"Purchase 100 units."
[Transaction Complete.]
A massive, glowing summoning circle appeared on the factory floor. Dozens of black crates materialized from the void, stacked neatly.
"Gear up," Kaelen ordered. "Lyra, ensure everyone fits their armor. If they don't know how to use the rifle, teach them. If they can't learn in an hour, give them a spear and put them in the front line."
"You're giving us System-grade weapons?" Lyra picked up a rifle. It was sleek, black, and hummed with faint mana. It was worth more than her entire life in the wasteland. "Why?"
"Because a dead employee is a sunk cost," Kaelen replied, turning away to check the crawlers. "I expect a return on my investment. Don't die."
An hour later, the transformation was stark.
Gone were the rags and scrap metal. The 95 recruits stood in rows, wearing matching black nano-weave armor. The crimson logo of the Vance Mercenary Company—a stylized eclipse—was emblazoned on their shoulders.
They stood taller. Uniforms did that. It gave them an identity beyond "victim."
"System check complete," Vex reported, admiring her new [Dual-Fang Daggers] Kaelen had bought her. "We look like a real hit squad now. Or a cult. Probably a cult."
Suddenly, the perimeter alarms tripped.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Movement outside," Seraphina called from the catwalk. "Heat signatures. A lot of them. Encircling the building."
Kaelen walked to the heavy blast doors. He activated his [Abyssal Sight].
Through the metal, he saw thirty figures. They weren't Church Enforcers. They were cyborgs, modded with jagged scrap metal and neon lights.
[Enemy Identified: The Rust Vipers (Local Gang).]
[Leader: 'Piston-Head' (Rank D+).]
[Intent: Hostile Takeover.]
A voice amplified by a loudspeaker boomed from outside.
"Yo! Inside the box! We saw you roll in with those Crawlers. This is Viper territory. Pay the toll—two trucks and the girls—and we let the rest of you walk!"
Kaelen looked at Lyra.
"Do we pay the toll?" Kaelen asked.
Lyra looked at her new rifle. She looked at the recruits behind her, who were nervously checking their safeties.
"No," Lyra said, her eyes hardening.
"Good," Kaelen stepped back. "I paid for the gear. Now I want to see if it works."
He gestured to the door.
"Open it."
Vex hit the release switch. The massive factory doors groaned open, revealing the smog-choked street and the gang of cyborgs waiting outside.
The gang leader, a man with a hydraulic press for a jaw, laughed. "Look boys! Fresh meat! Get the trucks!"
The Rust Vipers charged, brandishing chain-swords and crude pipe guns.
"Fire!" Lyra screamed.
Ninety-five System-crafted Kinetic Rifles opened up simultaneously.
THWIP-THWIP-THWIP-THWIP.
It wasn't a battle. It was a wall of noise.
The kinetic rounds, accelerated by mana, punched through the cyborgs' rusted armor like paper. Sparks flew. Limbs were blown off.
The Rust Vipers didn't even make it ten yards. The front rank evaporated in a mist of oil and blood. The second rank faltered, realizing their mistake.
"Retreat!" Piston-Head screamed, turning to run.
"Seraphina," Kaelen murmured. "Don't let the leader leave. I need to ask him about the road conditions."
Seraphina raised her staff.
"Solar Lance."
A beam of concentrated light shot from the catwalk. It pierced Piston-Head's knee, cauterizing the joint instantly. He fell, screaming.
The rest of the gang was cut down by the relentless volley of rifle fire.
In thirty seconds, the street was silent.
[Ding!]
[Battle Won: Gang Raid.]
[Casualties: 0.]
[XP Gained: 2,500 (Shared).]
[Unit Morale: Maximum.]
Kaelen walked out onto the street, his boots crunching on glass. He walked past the smoking bodies of the gangers. He didn't look at them. He looked at his troops.
They were panting, staring at the carnage they had caused. They weren't shaking anymore. They were grinning.
Kaelen stopped in front of the crippled gang leader.
"You scratched the paint on my door," Kaelen said.
"Mercy!" Piston-Head begged, clutching his melted knee. "We didn't know! We thought you were refugees!"
"We were," Kaelen said.
He leaned in.
"Sector 5. The Nomad Territory. Who controls the pass?"
"The... The Sand-Eaters!" Piston-Head stammered. "Mutants! They eat metal! Nobody goes there!"
"Sand-Eaters," Kaelen noted. "Mutated Bullet Ants, probably."
He stood up.
"Lyra."
"Yes, Sir?" Lyra stepped forward, her rifle smoking.
"Clean up this mess. Loot their cybernetics. Then mount up. We leave in ten minutes."
"And him?" Lyra pointed at the gang leader.
Kaelen turned his back.
"He's a witness. We don't leave witnesses."
BANG.
Lyra didn't hesitate. She put a round through Piston-Head's skull.
Kaelen climbed into the lead Crawler. He checked the map. The Oasis of the Exiled was 200 miles west.
"Vex," Kaelen called over the radio. "How much Platinum do we have left?"
"3,000," Vex replied.
"Keep it safe. We're going to need a bribe for the Nomad Chief."
"I thought we were going to kill them?"
"The Bishop wants us to kill them," Kaelen smiled, the engine roaring to life beneath him. "Which means keeping them alive is the most dangerous thing we can do to the Church."
The convoy rolled out of Sector 9, leaving the burning remains of the Rust Vipers behind. The Vance Mercenary Company was no longer a ragtag group of survivors.
They were a war machine. And they were hungry.