"Our unit has carried out an operation to apprehend a group of robbery-homicide suspects who had been on the run outside the dome for over six months, individuals who have instilled fear among the already struggling population beyond the walls."
Colonel Pierce addressed the press with a voice that was both crisp and commanding.
"With the cooperation of the P-Type unit, we successfully captured all eight suspects without a single officer sustaining injuries. They have now been transferred to the Central Detention Hospital and will await legal proceedings in accordance with the law."
Amid the rapid clicking of camera shutters, a young female reporter quickly raised her hand, voicing the question on everyone's mind.
"Dr. Nicolas has been overseeing the unit until recently. Why has that responsibility now shifted to you?"
"Dr. Nicolas is an invaluable asset to the central government. His workload has become exceptionally demanding, so I stepped in to assume operational command, allowing him to fully dedicate his time to research aimed at restoring breathable air outside the dome as soon as possible."
Pierce answered smoothly, carefully framing his response to emphasize the promise of returning clean air to the outside world, an appeal clearly designed to win public favor.
The same female reporter pressed on, her curiosity clearly undiminished.
"Previously, the P-Type unit had seven members, but now there are only six present. Could you explain what happened?"
"Nothing of concern,"
Colonel Pierce replied with an easy composure, as if he had anticipated the question.
"One of our members has been reassigned to assist Dr. Nicolas at the research center."
"Besides, while she possesses remarkable abilities, she is still only fourteen years old. I believe she deserves the chance to live a normal life, to play, and to grow as someone her age should."
His answer, framed with an apparent concern for a child's well-being, softened the atmosphere in the eyes of the press. Then, with a firm and steady tone, he concluded,
"From this point forward, P-Type will adopt a more proactive approach. I ask all citizens, whether you reside inside or outside the dome, to place your trust in us. We will restore peace and stability, without fail."
As Pierce's final words settled, both the press and the audience in attendance erupted into resounding applause that echoed across the area.
.....
"If that man is stepping onto the field himself, then a full-scale war is almost inevitable."
Drago spoke in a tense voice, his eyes fixed on the calm, unreadable face of the man on the screen.
"Who is he?"
Edward asked, studying the uniformed figure whose presence alone commanded an almost overwhelming authority.
"Colonel Pierce Hildebrand... a four-time recipient of the highest military honor."
Connor began laying out the background of their new enemy.
"He's the complete package, both in intellect and physical capability. He's highly skilled in modern tactical planning and the use of advanced technology, yet at the same time, he adheres strictly to old-school principles like discipline, chain of command, and unity."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"He's the kind of officer who could become a general anytime he wanted. But ambition like that doesn't interest him. In fact, he looks down on the kind of generals who spend their days behind desks doing nothing, calling them useless burdens on the public's taxes. To him, the mission and the objective are the only things that matter."
Connor's explanation filled the room with a growing sense of pressure. Facing an opponent who was an ordinary human, yet possessed the mind of a military genius, might prove even more terrifying than going up against enhanced humans driven purely by brute force.
"Hey, hey, doesn't that just make those lunatics even more dangerous?!"
Darius blurted out, shifting restlessly in place.
"What do you mean?"
Edward asked, frowning slightly as he looked at Darius, who seemed far more unsettled than usual.
"Think about it, kid. The P-Type were already beyond human to begin with. They've got power to spare, but no direction."
Darius explained, gesturing loosely through the air.
"But now imagine someone who actually knows what he's doing stepping in, lining them up, turning them into a proper system. That's a whole different beast compared to when they were just running wild without a clue!"
"Darius is right..."
Connor added, narrowing his eyes.
"Think about it, Edward. Wild beasts are dangerous because of their instincts and their unpredictability. But what happens if someone trains them to follow orders? If someone learns how to use their fangs and claws in a way that's controlled, deliberate, and maximizes the damage they can deal..."
He fell silent for a brief moment before finishing in a firm, decisive tone.
"Like we've seen all along, the P-Type have been nothing more than a freak show waiting for a proper handler to take control. And Pierce... he's the one holding the whip."
.....
After the news spread, the P-Type unit continued carrying out their operations without pause. Even though their missions were mostly routine, tracking down ordinary criminals who had fled beyond the dome, the ripple effects unfolded exactly as Colonel Pierce had calculated.
Their repeated successes did more than reassure the citizens inside the dome. Even the struggling communities outside began to open up and place their trust in the unit. Information and leads started pouring in without interruption, and Pierce's intelligence team meticulously sorted through every piece.
After more than two weeks had passed, the name P-Type had spread far and wide, earning a reputation as a force people could genuinely rely on in this abandoned land.
Beneath the blazing afternoon sun that warped the very air, a massive convoy like a moving iron caravan thundered through clouds of dust, racing toward the edge of the continent. At its core were twenty-four heavy transport trucks, flanked by lifted pickup trucks and heavily modified sedans bristling with weaponry, while a dense pack of off-road motorcycles rode in formation behind them, standing guard over the rear.
Their destination lay at the boundary between the Outlands of Biotope 5 and Biotope 6, where the Atlantic Ocean stretched across their path. This stretch of water had been officially abandoned by the central government, deemed too costly to control for what little return it offered. As a result, it had become a vital strategic route for Out Law forces, allowing them to move personnel and resources across continents without any interference from state authorities.
The low, thunderous growl of engines broke the silence of the ruins, hinting at the importance of whatever cargo or individuals were concealed beneath the tarps covering those trucks. Meanwhile, the hardened fighters riding with the convoy kept a constant watch over every corner of this lawless land.
The massive convoy, which had believed itself to be beyond the government's sight, failed to slip past Gareth's surveillance. He tracked their movements with precision and positioned the P-Type members at predetermined strategic points. Each of them lay in wait, silent and ready to eliminate their targets according to Colonel Pierce's plan.
Amid the deafening roar of engines, a mysterious sedan suddenly burst through the curtain of dust. It charged straight toward the convoy with reckless speed, showing no sign of slowing down.
Booooom!
The impact slammed into the lead pickup truck, triggering a massive explosion. Flames surged upward in a blazing orange column, clashing against the toxic haze in the sky. The entire convoy screeched to a halt, dust billowing in every direction. The remaining Out Law members immediately jumped out of their vehicles, fully armed and bracing for the unexpected.
The masked man with the skull-shaped visor, the same assassin who had nearly captured Darius before, walked calmly through the flames to inspect the wreckage at the center of the blast. All he found were the twisted remains of a cheap electric car worth only a few tens of thousands of credits. More strikingly, the vehicle was completely empty. There had been no driver. It had been remotely operated, turned into a moving suicide bomb.
"Heh... amateur trick."
He muttered behind the mask as his gaze swept the area, searching for the one responsible.
"Everyone, get ready! We're under attack! Protect the cargo, don't let it get damaged. Truck drivers, stay in your vehicles and hold position!"
The skull-masked man barked orders across the convoy. The Out Law members tightened their grips on their heavy weapons, bracing themselves for whoever dared to stand in their way.
Through the thinning smoke, a massive figure emerged. Lewis, the hulking brute of the P-Type unit, stepped forward with a menacing presence. His eyes burned with the resentment he had carried since the last time he had been overwhelmed and beaten down.
"What the hell is that thing?"
One of the Out Law members muttered, panic creeping into his voice.
"It's that big idiot we riddled with bullets last time, remember? Hah, hah, hah!"
Another man replied, laughing loudly with smug confidence. The others soon joined in, as if they were looking at a fool who had come back just to be killed again.
But the laughter died instantly as the scene before them shifted. This time, Lewis hadn't come empty-handed to serve as a sitting target. In his massive arms, he held a gigantic Gatling gun, its long belt of ammunition feeding in from behind his back.
Whirrrrr! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The spinning barrels roared to life, and in the next instant, a storm of thousands of rounds tore into the Out Law ranks without giving them a chance to react. The sheer destructive force ripped through wreckage and bodies alike, blasting the hunters apart and kicking up clouds of dust across the battlefield. It was a brutal counterattack that sent the Out Law forces into complete disarray.
While Lewis's relentless barrage seized all their attention, 23 moved like a shadow of death. He shot forward, smashing through the windshield of the first truck and slamming into the driver with overwhelming force, dropping him instantly. In the same motion, he grabbed the wheel, wrenched the massive truck out of formation, and sped away.
"Hey! They've taken one of the trucks! Go after it!"
Shouts erupted as a group of off-road motorcycles twisted their throttles and surged forward in pursuit, cutting through dust and blood as they chased the stolen truck.
"Damn it! What are you all doing?! Get the Railgun ready!"
The skull-masked man roared, intending to deploy their heavy weapon to turn the tide. But just as one of his men reached for it, a thunderous blast echoed from afar.
Boom! Boom!
The Railgun they had taken such pride in was struck and obliterated with pinpoint accuracy, reduced to twisted scrap by a shot fired from Lloyd, who had been lying in wait three-quarters of a mile away.
"Damn it!"
The skull-masked man cursed in fury as he watched their trump card vanish before his eyes in mere seconds. The countermeasures they had prepared were collapsing, undone by the superior coordination of the P-Type unit this time.
The group of motorcycles that had just sped off in pursuit of the truck suddenly veered around and raced straight back toward the convoy, their movement unmistakably wrong.
"Hey! Why aren't you chasing it?! What are you doing back here?!"
The skull-masked man shouted, confusion and anger rising as his plan began to unravel. In that instant, the roaring Gatling gun in Lewis's hands fell silent without warning, leaving only the hollow whir of its spinning barrels. Then a single handgun shot cracked through the air in its place.
Bang!
The bullet was fired point-blank into the skull-masked man's head, pulled by one of his own riders. The leader of the Out Law collapsed instantly, his body hitting the dusty ground without so much as a twitch, while the remaining members could only stare in stunned disbelief.
Behind the motorcycle group that had once been his allies, a young woman stepped forward. Her eyes were calm, yet carried an unsettling, unfathomable depth. Sophie moved slowly, a faint smile resting on her lips.
The pieces on P-Type's board had been rearranged with flawless precision. She had turned the enemy into weapons against themselves, completely and decisively, leaving them no chance to even realize when their fangs had been taken from them.
Lewis's thunderous roar shook the battlefield, the sheer force of it sending tremors through the ground until the earth itself began to crack. It sounded like the call of a starving beast, driven mad with bloodlust.
"Dammit! I told you to keep it quiet!"
Gareth snapped, yanking the earpiece from his ear as the sound spiked far beyond tolerable limits. But what unfolded before the Out Law was nothing short of hell on earth. Lewis's already massive muscles twisted and compressed, hardening into something like solid steel.
His clothes tore apart as coarse, dark fur rapidly spread across his body. His human face warped beyond recognition, his jaw thrusting forward as curved fangs emerged. The man they once knew as an enhanced human was gone. In his place stood a monstrous brown bear of immense size, his ten claws gleaming under the sunlight, ready to tear apart anything that dared stand in his way.
"Wha... what the hell is that thing?!"
One of the surviving Out Law members screamed, his voice breaking in terror as the massive beast, as large as a truck, pushed itself upright on two legs, poised to rip its prey to pieces.
But the horror unfolding across the dust-choked battlefield was far from over. From within the drifting haze, 23 stepped forward at an unhurried pace, moving to join Sophie, who already stood poised and in control. His eyes were utterly still, cold and bottomless like frozen depths no one could hope to read. Yet more overwhelming than his appearance was the sheer killing intent radiating from him. It was so intense, so suffocating, that the very air seemed to grow heavy, crushing down on the hearts of the remaining Out Law until they trembled uncontrollably, leaving no need to question his intentions.
Amid the thunderous growls of Lewis in his berserk bear form and the unseen force emanating from Sophie, the arrival of 23 was like the presence of death itself, a final confirmation that no path to survival remained within this killing ground.