Before the skies over Chicken Snake Country even brightened, Wuliang City Airport welcod its sole inbound flight.
Moby Dick disembarked the plane and was imdiately controlled by more than ten PMC soldiers, while the bodyguards with him were stripped of their arms.
Moby Dick recognized the equipnt they wore and knew the financial backer behind them must be extraordinary.
These n were from the renowned Atlas Company in the PMC world, clad in their signature exoskeletons and ard with HBR3 automatic rifles.
The group was escorted away from the airport in a convoy of twelve armored SUVs, which took them right to the summit hotel halfway up the hills of Wuliang City.
Moby Dick stepped out of the car and looked up at the dimly lit sky, like a sinner in Hell gazing towards heaven.
Behind him lay the city’s night view at the foot of the rolling hills, and before him were the ruins of a large luxury hotel, comparable to the Pei Guode Hotel.
The building had been used as a command center by the conservative soldiers during the civil war, thus subjected to mortar and tank fire, its side wings turned to rubble and the main structure breached in several places. The remaining architecture, however, stood intact, albeit without electricity or water.
Moreover, the surrounding area was now under Atlas control, with several large combat transport vehicles stationed at the base of the mountain and two unmanned tracked rhinos parked at the hotel entrance.
Clearly, Atlas had turned this place into a fortress. What were they doing here?
Moby Dick did not know who had hired them, but he didn’t anticipate them wanting him dead.
Had they truly wanted to kill soone, he wouldn’t have made it past the airport’s apron.
Now, it seed there might be a turnaround. These people had brought him here for a reason, no doubt.
He followed the PMC into the hotel lobby. Although the interior was marred by shelling—rubble everywhere, so stairways and rooms collapsed—it had been cleared to create a navigable path. There was a quiet battery pack on the ground and a few outdoor lanterns set against the wall, illuminating the whole room.
Moby Dick noticed a white wooden table in the lobby, several Atlas PMCs were gathered around a map on the table, discussing ambush tactics.
They ascended the pedestrian stairs up to the fifth floor, to the door of one of the VIP rooms, which was guarded by two n in power armor.
Marauders...
Moby Dick recognized the imposing figures—2.5 ters tall, covered in ceramic bulletproof plates, entered from the rear, virtually human tanks, powered by four automotive-grade battery packs, primarily ard with a right arm-driven multi-barrel machine gun...
The PMC stopped his bodyguards, leaving them all outside the door. Then, they gestured for him to enter the room alone.
Moby Dick had no choice, so he straightened his tie and pushed the door open.
As soon as the door swung open, a blinding light slamd into his face. He shielded his eyes with his hand and peered ahead through the gaps between his fingers.
The light emanated from a work light placed on a liquor cabinet, and its cone-shaped beam lit up a third of the room like daylight while the corners remained in shadow.
An elderly man in a suit and shoes was sitting on the couch, with a short-haired woman standing behind him.
"Moby Dick, take a seat. Coffee or brandy?" the elder said.
"Of course it’s a martini. Why not?" Moby Dick replied with a smile and sat down on the couch beside the old man.
The woman with short hair behind the elder poured a martini and then placed the small glass on the coffee table in front of Moby Dick.
"No ice, but considering your good looks, it’ll do," Moby Dick raised his glass.
"Let introduce myself, my na is Alfred, an extension of the Sethiyan Federation’s will in this wretched land. This is the Atlas Commander, codenad Elizabeth," Alfred said.
Moby Dick raised his glass toward Elizabeth.
"Stop looking at with those filthy eyes, asshole!" Elizabeth cursed.
"Pardon her temper; no one’s in a good mood being stuck in this hellish place," Alfred said.
"Who isn’t," Moby Dick said, "Our souls and bodies are both trapped in this hell, trapped in these pitch-black depths."
"It seems we both feel deeply about this," Alfred chuckled.
"Have you ever watched the West Soil sunrise from ten thousand ters high? An hour ago, I felt like a whale leaping from the sea, just basking in that warm sunshine, only to be yanked back down to the ocean floor by that damned gravity. Pardon my boldness, but what business do you have with ?" Moby Dick inquired.
"Our only purpose here, Wei Tianyang," Alfred said.
Moby Dick set down his glass and leaned back into the sofa.
"I can tell, you’ve already turned this place into a fortress, and I’ve long heard of the Atlas rcenaries," Moby Dick continued.
He paused, then added, "So, what more can I do? I won’t interfere with your plans, and I have no interest in this country..."
"Demos has already inford us that you’ve been ousted from Red Pharmaceutical, and moreover, you have a vendetta against Wei Tianyang," Elizabeth said.
Moby Dick remained silent.
"You’ve collaborated with him before, not only have you t him, but you also know how to contact him. Now, I bet he’s definitely looking for you everywhere," Alfred stated.
"I don’t need your protection, I just need a plane to get out of here," Moby Dick shook his head.
"Who said anything about protecting you?" Elizabeth smiled.
"What are you preparing to do..." Moby Dick asked.
"The Sethiyan Federation Governor believes it’s a good choice to establish a cooperative relationship with him, but as far as I’m concerned, the chances of him accepting such a generous invitation are incredibly slim. Therefore, I’ve chosen to skip the collaboration and directly implent the second plan, to bring back his corpse... What about Elizabeth..." Alfred said.
"My sister was killed by him, I want vengeance," Elizabeth declared.
"Her sister was with a conservative and a local officer on a mission, but during an encounter with the Black House, she was killed," Alfred explained.
"So, you’re from the Superpower Special Departnt?" Moby Dick looked at Elizabeth and asked.
"Of course not," Elizabeth replied.
"Then what makes you think you can seek vengeance on him?" Moby Dick laughed.
"We have tactics, we have gear, we’ve dealt with targets far more troubleso than this, and after all, Wei Tianyang is just a 16-year-old kid," Elizabeth asserted.
"Do whatever you want, I just want to leave this place," Moby Dick said.
"You can’t leave just yet, because I need you to make a phone call to him, invite him over. Lure him into the ambush we’ve prepared in advance, and then, you’ll have to wait there for him... until he shows up," Alfred said, lifting his coffee with a smile.
Moby Dick looked at Alfred; he knew all too well he was being used as bait.
At that mont, four gunshots sounded outside the door, followed by sothing collapsing.
A fine sweat broke out on his forehead.
The brutality of civilization...
Elizabeth and Alfred both looked at him, smiles on their faces, and the glare of the lamp on the liquor cabinet caused flares in his vision.
Then, he laughed.
"Of course, of course, I too would like to see him die. I want to watch him writhe in a pool of blood, struggle, and then perish. Isn’t that what you want as well?" Moby Dick chuckled.
"So, you agree? I thought we’d have to expend more effort," Elizabeth said, sowhat surprised.
"Let him co, the sooner, the better. Tell the ti and the place, and I’ll call him right away," Moby Dick said with a grin.
Then, he took out a phone with one corner of the screen shattered, swiped through the contacts, and found Yaha’s number...
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