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Struggling to his feet, he decided to leave the [Ryūken] skill book until later. For now he had to grab Nia and get to the Hijima Shrine. Staggering to the door, he pulled it open and paused, deadpanning behind the npō he wore.
The ropes that had bound Rokka Nia lay discarded on the floor, while the toilet door was slamd shut and the indicator showed that the room was indeed ’occupied’ by soone. Seriously? She was hiding in the toilet? What age was she, five?!
Even while under the effect of the [Weakness] debuff, which reduced his physical stats by 25%, he was still physically powerful enough to rip the door off its hinges. Unsurprising, as the plastic and light tal door was only intended to ensure the privacy of its occupant, not their safety.
What greeted him was the sight of an empty cubicle and a wall hanging free. A secret exit. Pushing the secret door further open showed that there was a short passage ending with an enormous vault door that seed to require a sixteen digit code in order to gain access.
"Fuck running." Issei growled, punching the wall in frustration. That woman might have been weak but she was proving to be as slippery as a snake!
Well, there was no point in sticking around here now that the project head had run with her tail between her legs. He went over and checked out the Neurotoxin Generator to make sure that the woman hadn’t pulled a last minute ’fuck you’ move on him, but apparently she’d just run like hell. Unsurprising, really.
That piece of duty taken care of, Issei left the room after setting it to go into lockdown; no one would be able to get in there without the codes, which he had scrambled several tis at random. Not even he would be able to renter the room now.
Deciding to leave via the front entrance that Armârôs had thoughtfully cut open for him, Issei headed that way after sending a few [Fireball] spells at the corpses of the forr zombies and Flints. They wouldn’t receive burials, but the least he could do was ensure they wouldn’t just sit and rot here for who knows how long. Even the worst n deserved so respect in death.
The door, when he reached it, was easy to pry open thanks to the damage Armârôs had dealt to it. The passage after the door was, once again, blinding white. Seriously, Issei was going to have words with whatever asshole had been in charge of interior decoration for this place.
Just before the final outer door was a security kiosk that Issei ransacked. If keys were a currency, he would be rich, because there were at least a dozen rings of keys there. What was interesting was an open file on the little computer regarding one, final Purifier location in Kuō, one referred to as ’the Keep’. There was no specific location given for it, just that it was sowhere in the southern part of Kuō.
Noting that, Issei triggered the door chanism and entered the lift that was behind them. There were only two buttons; one for the floor he was currently on, and one for the main entrance. He punched that one and waited for the lift to go up.
’Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head...’
"I am officially disturbed." Issei muttered as music played for the short ti the elevator was in motion. "Muzak? Seriously?"
Today couldn’t end fast enough for his liking.
Stepping out once the elevator ca to a halt, Issei was confronted with a false door that required a keycard. Not having the patience to find one, he just forced the doors open and then slamd them shut behind him, leaving the Sekiryūtei in an abandoned house, the kitchen of one, to be precise.
Peering out of the window, Issei spotted the factory that was the topmost layer of disguise for the now ransacked Purifier base. He didn’t know why they had chosen to set things up this way, nor did he much care. All he was going to do now was walk ho and go to freaking sleep. Reporting to the Devils could wait until tomorrow.
Elsewhere
Armârôs the Lesser struggled to heal herself. This wound that she had been given by that filthy human was large, gaping and positively refused to allow most healing spells to take. Her persistence was the only reason she was still alive.
The defeated Fallen was where Azazel had assigned four other Fallen, Raynare, Mittelt, Dohnaseek and Kalawarner, to watch over the town for Sacred Gear users, an abandoned and derelict church. It was the only place she could think of to lie low and try to heal.
Emphasis on ’try’ here, as the bastard human’s gladius had severed her vocal cords, punctured her windpipe and gone through the veins and arteries on either side of her neck. Repairing the last of the three had been ti consuming and painful, but also the most urgent matter if she wanted to avoid drowning in her own blood. As it was though, she was making almost no progress in repairing the rest of the damage to her throat.
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