"Ugh, ugh…"
A few minutes earlier, Central Park.
Rapland, rubbing her swollen belly, sat heavily on her bed, or rather, in her single-person detention room. Her body felt heavy. Her stomach was full, and the sll of food lingered on her skin, never quite leaving. Her nose tingled from the scent.
Today had been overwhelming. There was so much to do, and the lingering sll of food on her clothes and hair was an indirect testant to what she had been doing—she had just finished working in food preparation.
Soone might wonder if Rapland’s work wasn’t more like that of a trainee operations officer, but that would be both true and false.
To be exact, she had been doing everything she could, including preparing for her role as a trainee operations officer.
“…I didn’t think so many people would show up.”
There were more than 2,500 people in Central Park.
In terms of numbers, it was sowhere between a regint and a brigade.
They consisted of civilians, operations officers, analysts, high-ranking governnt officials, soldiers, and many other professionals, all of whom needed substantial food supplies to continue their work.
Naturally, preparing and cooking enough food for 2,500 people required a lot of work, and a significant number of people were needed to clean up afterward. Today, Rapland had been tasked with assisting with all of it.
As the enemies that the Dagger Team faced grew stronger, many situations arose that were beyond the capacity of Rapland as a trainee, so she was temporarily reassigned to help with other tasks.
This was the result.
'...I’ve eaten plenty, so I guess that’s enough for now.'
She cut the ingredients, set the tables, and did all the small tasks to the best of her ability, even though she was a beginner. The fact that she could eat as much as she wanted was sothing she was truly grateful for.
The people who ca for their als either knew her or didn’t. But that didn’t matter. Doing her best in everything was the only way she could cover up her past.
Had it been a regular day, she might have been skeptical, but today, she wasn’t.
A few days ago, Captain Parkinson had told her that he wouldn’t dwell on the past, and that was essentially a signal to do well moving forward.
At the very least, that’s what she wanted.
So, she would do just that.
Of course, now that she was full, she decided to wait for a while.
“…Huh, maybe I should take a walk.”
Not only did she need to digest, but perhaps sothing else would co up outside. For now, she needed that kind of proactive attitude—though the food sll was making her nose hurt.
She discarded her work clothes and changed into sothing else before heading outside.
The fresh air outside slled of earth and wet asphalt. After slling food so strongly for so long, just inhaling the outside air felt like a form of ntal healing.
As she absentmindedly rifled through her empty pockets, she muttered to herself.
“…I quit. Right.”
Since becoming a wolf, she couldn’t tolerate the harsh, pungent sll of cigarettes and had quit instantly. Still, she felt a slight emptiness in her pocket now that the weight was gone.
Rapland looked around leisurely. It seed the rain had stopped while she was working, but aside from the deep clouds and humid air that made a "guuu" sound as they drifted, there wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy.
No.
There hadn't been.
'...?'
In that mont, a strange scent was carried by the wind.
She instinctively turned her head in the direction of the sll. There was nothing. It was a scent she had never encountered before.
At first, there was nothing odd about it. Central Park saw dozens of civilians pass through daily. Rapland was well aware that civilians brought all kinds of different slls with them.
But...
She knew that the people coming to the detention block and the strange sll she had just noticed were not on the usual list.
At the very least, the scent didn’t resemble the sll of blood—more like the sll of burning plastic.
"I ca back sooner than expected. Did I leave sothing behind?"
"No, no, I just got hungry again."
"Well, you don’t need to say anything. Just make sure you write up the entry logs and leave on ti."
Rapland felt the need to investigate. She awkwardly brushed off the conversation and returned to her room.
Her quarters were inside the facility, so she had unrestricted access, and there was no need for a keycard or ID to move around the detention center. She quickly headed back inside.
However, her destination was not her room.
Now a wolf, Rapland didn’t need to follow objects with her eyes. Her enhanced sense of sll was enough to guide her. She followed the scent of burning plastic.
The detention facility wasn’t enormous, but it wasn’t small either. The structure was simple enough, and even though Rapland hadn’t spent much ti there, she knew where everything was.
And she realized that the scent was leading her toward the special detention blocks—areas she wasn’t supposed to enter.
The mont she realized this, the sharp scent of blood hit her.
She rushed forward, reaching the gate that separated the special detention blocks from the regular ones.
And—
"Ugh...!"
She saw the body of one person, their head pierced, and another in the room, torn apart and shredded.
The blood slled fresh, still thick and sticky. They had died very recently.
Rapland hastily checked her surroundings, looking for a way to contact the outside, but the walkie-talkie and the ergency buttons inside the special detention block were all broken.
She had no choice but to pick up a gun from the floor. It was slick with blood, and the sensation was terrible, but she fought the urge to vomit and ran out.
The scent of blood made it impossible to track the path, but she no longer needed to rely on it.
"Shit, what the hell is ahead…"
A tal bar, cut in an X shape.
Her heart raced, and her hands trembled. The fear that she might end up like those bodies, sliced up and discarded, overwheld her, but there was no turning back now.
She ran.
She didn’t have a solid reason for running. If asked, she probably wouldn’t have an answer. She might die. The odds were certainly higher. But sothing told her she couldn’t stop now.
And how much ti had passed?
"Shit, what the hell…"
A large, folding blade was sticking out of a twisted forearm.
The wall she had to cross, the glowing blade in the distance, it was no more than 20 ters away. But Rapland didn’t feel that distance was far at all. She could close it in two seconds if she wanted to.
And so could the other side.
The inhuman, tallic eyes of the cyborg scanned her, and a low voice followed.
"…This is Valerie. Identified as an Alpha-class mutant affiliated with Central Park. Engaging in combat now… No, the neutralization and capture of this entity will be prioritized equally with the rescue of Dr. Dexter."
"What?"
She voiced her confusion, but with her hands, she pulled up the gun.
The animal instincts scread that she had to deal with this bizarre cyborg or die. Her fingers, trained from training, pulled the trigger.
And at that mont, the cyborg lunged toward Rapland.
Her curses exploded from her mouth.
"Shiiiiiiiiiiiit!"
The sound of gunfire filled the hallway and detention center, almost deafening her.
Her first combat encounter had begun.
A few seconds later...
"Boom!"
"Ugh... did I block that? Impressive."
It took just two seconds for Valerie to dodge around the approximately 20 bullets fired in a fraction of a mont, and reach Rapland’s position. Her forearm had beco shredded, her clothes were torn, and the impact points were dented.
In fact, one or two of the bullets had grazed her head and face, leaving deep gashes, but her target—Rapland—was still alive.
Of course, that wasn’t the end. Valerie swung her mantis blades diagonally, and any ordinary person would have had their arms sliced off without even realizing it. But Rapland—despite her untrained state—managed to partially block with her firearm.
She half-blocked the attack, though the gun was instantly sliced in half.
The now-scorched and halved gun dropped to the floor, and Rapland barely managed to hold onto the bent arm that was about to strike her, bracing herself with all her strength to stop the incoming punch.
It felt like trying to stop a wall pushed by a hydraulic press.
However, holding on for dear life like this ant that the strength of the Alpha-class mutant cyborg was equivalent to a heavily modified individual, far beyond human limits.
"Ghh, ugh...!"
"Please, stop resisting. If you cut the wrong part, you could go into shock and die."
"Shit, please... just let go! Sobody, please help !"
The heat radiating from the bluish glowing blade was imnse.
Even though it was at least 20 cm away from her body, the heat made it almost impossible to keep her eyes open. She knew that if that blade dug into her body, unimaginable pain would follow.
Rapland hadn’t trained in close combat, but that very fact gave her a small advantage in the frantic fight. She kicked the cyborg’s unprotected abdon with all her might, and quickly readied herself to dash back.
And in the end, it turned out to be a smart choice.
Spot!
"Yikes...!"
"You’re good at this, aren’t you?"
In just a split second, Valerie had dodged through the barrage of bullets, only to close in on Rapland. Her forearm had been utterly destroyed, her clothing in tatters, and the target zone had been pierced.
So of the bullets had even grazed her head and face, but despite this, the cyborg was still standing—unscathed.
Yet, as if that wasn’t enough, Valerie swung her mantis blade diagonally again. A normal person wouldn’t have even seen the move coming before losing their limbs, but Rapland, sohow, managed to block it using her firearm.
Half-blocked, that is, before the gun itself was severed.
The red-hot, half-split gun dropped to the ground as Rapland reached out, grasping the bent arm with all her remaining strength to resist the pressure of the incoming punch.
It was like trying to stop a massive wall pressing against you.
But the fact that she was even holding out ant that the Alpha-class mutant cyborg’s strength far exceeded human limits, on par with any highly modified being.
"Ugh, haah...!"
"Stop struggling. If you cut the wrong part, it might be fatal."
"Shit, please...! Sobody, help ! Anybody!?"
The intense heat coming from the glowing blade was unbearable.
Even though it was 20 cm away from her body, the heat made it hard to see, let alone react to the oncoming attack. Rapland realized that if that blade struck her, unimaginable pain would follow.
She had no formal training, but that very fact gave her an advantage—perhaps out of sheer panic. She lashed out with a fierce kick to the cyborg’s exposed abdon, and without hesitation, readied herself to retreat.
And ultimately, that choice proved to be the right one.
Spot!
"Hiiiii! What the hell…!
"You’ve got good instincts."
As she quickly evaded the incoming knife-like blow, Rapland’s legs seed to falter at the last mont. A sharp blade nearly grazed her thigh. It was a close call, but the mont it passed by, her face paled from the realization of how narrowly she had avoided disaster.
At that very mont, she felt a wetness dripping down her leg—sothing she didn’t want to know about. But the last thing she could think of was stopping.
She didn’t dare slow down. The urge to run was overwhelming. Despite her pounding heart, she sprinted down the corridor, her mind focused solely on escaping.
Even though she could feel her body weakening, the distance between her and the cyborg was closing fast. The hallway felt like it was closing in on her.
At that very mont, the sound of soldiers’ shouts echoed around her.
"Stop! Halt!"
"Stop, stop, you fucking idiots! You’re gonna get us killed!"
With the unnatural speed of a mutant, Rapland was charging down the corridor toward the front gate.
The soldiers, intent on stopping her, would have fired any mont—if not for what erged from the corridor ahead.
"Shit, what the hell is that..."
"Fire! Fire now!"
"Rapland's in the crossfire!"
"Damn it, Rapland! Get down!"
At that mont, she dove forward, almost as if leaping, and hit the floor with her face inches from the ground.
Just then, a 40mm grenade fired from a mobile unit’s under-barrel rail flew over her, narrowly missing.
Had the targeting been even slightly off, Rapland would’ve been killed on the spot.
But it wasn’t off. The grenade passed a re 20 cm over her head.
Yet, it never touched her.
As she continued sprinting with fierce determination, her arm sliced diagonally in the air. In an unbelievable twist, the grenade split in two right before her.
Of course…
Boom!
The explosion didn’t fail to make its mark. Her right arm and torso were shredded in the blast. As the cyborg erged from the smoke, two more grenades were quickly loaded, and a far more accurate shot was fired.
The second grenade, now aid with terrifying precision, struck the path Rapland had taken through the corridor. The blast was far too powerful for any human to withstand, let alone a mutant.
As the smoke cleared, the silhouette of the mangled cyborg could barely be seen, slumped on the floor.
A long silence followed.
The mobile assault team leader gestured for the soldiers to search the area. The first two soldiers entered the smoke to confirm the cyborg’s condition.
The next two entered cautiously and found Rapland lying motionless on the ground.
Her condition was grueso.
"Are you okay?"
"Ugh, shit, damn it, I’ve been begging for help and now you’re here! Where were you earlier!?"
"You’ve done well. Good job."
"Hah, ha…"
Tears were flowing, and her nose was bleeding from the fall.
She knew that they had co rushing to the scene right after the incident, so she no longer complained, wiping her tears as she struggled to walk out of the front door.
Three hours earlier, the CCTV footage was revealed, Dr. Dexter was permanently re-incarcerated, and Rapland's reassessnt began.
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