The uneasy alliance between 23 and Drago raged on, relentless and brutal. They unleashed everything they had, every technique and overwhelming surge of strength, hammering Zenos with near-manic intensity. On paper, the modified humans held a clear advantage, their speed and raw power far beyond normal limits, backed by near-miraculous regeneration. But for the masked hunter, none of that seemed to matter.
Zenos remained unnervingly composed. He wasn't just defending. He was reading them. Every movement, every pattern, every opening laid bare in his mind as if he'd seen it all before. And each time he slipped past their attacks, he seized that split-second window to strike back with lethal precision, targeting vital points again and again.
Against any ordinary human, that level of counterattack would have ended the fight long ago. But these were not ordinary opponents. Their bodies recovered without limit, dragging them back from the brink no matter how brutal the damage. Zenos's blows landed hard enough to nearly kill, yet still failed to put them down for good. And for the first time, a flicker of irritation surfaced beneath his mask, sharp and unmistakable.
"So… you really are a nuisance after all."
Zenos's voice slipped through the mask, calm and steady despite the growing disadvantage in raw strength.
"What's wrong? Getting tired already?"
Drago shot back, seizing the brief hesitation as he lunged forward. But in an instant, Zenos drove a full-force kick into his chest, sending the immortal man skidding violently across the dust.
23 didn't let the opening go to waste. He drew a razor-sharp knife from his waist and charged in, slashing at Zenos in a frenzy. But just as the blade was about to land, Zenos shifted aside with flawless timing. He caught 23's wrist, twisted it until the knife slipped free into his own hand, then unleashed a ruthless flurry of strikes against 23's body.
Slash! Slash! Slash!
He wasn't striking blindly. Every cut was deliberate, severing tendons at the wrists, ankles, and behind the knees, stripping 23 of his balance. Then, without hesitation, he drove the blade straight into 23's throat, burying it to the hilt before finishing with a brutal kick to the chest that sent the blood-soaked body flying.
23 collapsed in a spreading pool of blood, choking as he coughed up a thick mouthful for the first time since the mission began. His trembling hand slowly reached up, pulling the blade from his throat as the wound struggled to close.
Zenos stood still, watching both 23 and Drago with cold, empty eyes. Then, quietly, he spoke.
"You two share a similar kind of power… but there are differences, aren't there?"
Zenos spoke in a flat, measured tone as his gaze swept over the broken bodies of the two modified humans lying in the dust. He stepped toward Drago, slow and deliberate.
"You… your body still feels pain. Every time you take a hit, it shows."
Then he turned back to 23, who remained eerily still.
"And you… it's like you've got nothing left that can feel pain at all. No reaction. Not in your face, not in your eyes."
"But that's not what I'm really interested in."
Zenos paused, staring straight into both of their eyes.
"What I want to know is… can you actually die? That's all."
"Heh… you really are dangerous, aren't you?"
Drago gritted his teeth as he forced himself back up.
"The way you assess your opponent… the techniques you use… You used to be a soldier, didn't you?"
"I'll give you half credit."
Zenos replied, flexing the metal glove around his hand.
"You're right. I was a soldier. But not the kind that stands around guarding gates inside the dome all day. I'm an independent mercenary, born and raised in the Outlands. I've crossed the worst climates this world has to offer, and I've trained my body without stopping."
His gaze shifted, settling on Drago.
"As for you… you were a soldier too. But those techniques you learned… they're nowhere near my level."
The cutting remark made 23, who had just finished sealing the wound in his throat, fix Zenos with a heavier stare. In that moment, he understood. The man standing before them wasn't just another human. He was a killing machine, honed by real experience in the hell beyond the dome.
"If you two are really that far beyond human limits… then I guess it's time I stopped holding back."
Zenos spoke in a cold, merciless tone. He reached behind his back and slowly drew out a long machete, its razor-clean blade catching the afternoon light. It looked pristine, meticulously maintained to a degree that felt almost unsettling.
"Then let's see… if I start cutting here… carving there… that won't be a problem, right? Since you recover so well."
He gave the blade a light flick, a quiet signal of what was about to come.
The moment his words fell, and the steel flashed with lethal intent, both Drago and 23 rose once more. The wounds in 23's throat and tendons were nearly restored, while Drago rolled his shoulder, bracing himself for the heaviest fight he had ever faced. Both of them locked their eyes on the masked mercenary, ready for the real battle that was about to explode in the next instant.
.....
"Hey! Why'd you bring her here? We're all gonna get infected!"
Chloe snapped the moment she saw Edward supporting Alicia's blood-soaked body as they reached the parking area.
"I don't have any infection… It's parasites."
Alicia shot back through gritted teeth, her breath coming in ragged bursts.
"Same thing!"
Chloe fired back, her face twisting with disgust.
"It's not the same at all. What kind of education did you have? Didn't your teachers explain that to you?"
Alicia forced out one last breath just to throw the jab.
"Don't act so smart, you walking biohazard. My brother's a doctor. Of course I'd know something that basic."
Chloe's temper flared instantly. She stepped forward, squaring up in front of Alicia.
"If he's a doctor and you still can't tell the difference… then whatever alliance you're part of is already doomed."
Alicia didn't back down, her mouth still running despite everything, pushing Chloe to the edge as her face flushed red.
"What did you just say?!"
"Hey, calm down, Chloe! She's seriously injured right now."
Jenkins quickly stepped in between them before things could turn into a full-blown fight. He carefully pulled Alicia's shirt aside to check her wounds.
"Damn…"
A jagged shard of metal was lodged deep in her abdomen, driven in so far it nearly pierced through her back. The injury looked horrific, but the object itself was acting as a plug, slowing the bleeding.
"If we don't treat her now, she's dead."
Jenkins said grimly, glancing over at Edward, who stood on edge.
Edward made his choice. Leaving the chaos at the vehicle behind, he broke into a full sprint, racing back toward the battlefield where two modified humans were being overwhelmed by a single, battle-hardened mercenary.
.....
On Drago's side, the situation had reached a critical point. What had once been a battle of endurance and regeneration was no longer enough. Zenos had grown terrifyingly faster. His machete strikes were no longer meant to simply wound. They were designed to sever, to cut limbs clean off, as if he were testing the limits of their immortality in the middle of a blazing battlefield.
About a mile away, a storm of dust rose into the air as a convoy of vehicles sped straight toward them.
"What… did you really think I'd be reckless enough to come out here alone?"
Zenos said calmly, locking eyes with Drago, who had already noticed the approaching vehicles.
"How about this… let's make a deal."
Drago spoke, his voice steady, forcing control into every word.
"Hm… what do you have in mind?"
Zenos paused his assault for a moment, though his blade remained poised to kill at any instant.
"You can take whatever cargo is left in the trucks. From what I can see, there are still several that are in good condition."
Drago made the offer, bargaining for their lives.
"And what about the damaged cargo? Or the people I lost because of you?"
Zenos shot back immediately.
"You've taken plenty of ours too, haven't you? Call it even."
Drago tried to negotiate.
"One truck carries cargo worth five hundred million credits… Four have already been destroyed, along with everything inside. That's roughly two billion credits gone."
Zenos's voice pressed coldly through the mask.
"And that's not even counting the men who died… or the modified vehicles that are now scrap metal. And you're telling me to call it even? Isn't that a bit shallow?"
"Then what do you want?"
Drago snapped back, grinding his teeth, frustration and pain bleeding into his voice as the situation slipped further out of his control.
"Those two modified humans… accept this condition, and we walk away."
Zenos said flatly, his cold gaze drifting toward the bodies of Sophie and Lewis, still unconscious on the soot-stained ground.
"Are you insane?! They're my people!"
23 roared, fury erupting without restraint. There was no way he would let his subordinates and allies be reduced to merchandise for Out Law.
"I'll price them at one billion credits each… two billion for both."
Zenos continued, completely unfazed.
"As for the damages and the time you've cost me, I'll cover that myself as operational expense… Deal?"
"Not a chance!"
23 snapped back instantly, ready to stake his life again if it came to that.
"Then I'll kill the two of you… or just make sure you can't fight anymore. Either way, I'll take all four of you back to base."
Zenos slowly shifted the machete in his hand, the motion alone enough to press down on them.
"After that, I'll recover the damaged cargo and deliver it to the Mortifer Syndicate on schedule… As for the rest, from what I've counted, there are three P-Type left. I'll let them go for now. And that boy who showed up for a moment… he's not worth anything to me."
As Zenos finished speaking, the air around them seemed to turn cold. His plan was laid out with chilling precision, as if the lives of these modified humans were nothing more than numbers on a balance sheet.
"Yeah… glad you still remember that kid!"
Drago shouted, flashing a dangerous grin.
"Why?"
Zenos shot back, a flicker of curiosity slipping into his voice for just a moment.
"Because he's the one who's gonna finish you!"
The words had barely left Drago's mouth before he kicked off the ground and burst sideways. At the same time, 23 caught sight of Edward's shadow appearing behind Zenos and immediately moved out of the line of fire.
Zenos's instincts screamed. He spun around without hesitation, and there he was. Edward. The same boy he had just dismissed. Now standing firm, bracing a massive railgun ripped straight off the Rocket Bike, aimed directly at him.
Boom!
Edward pulled the trigger instantly. But he wasn't aiming at Zenos.
The tungsten round slammed into the ground about ten feet in front of him. The impact detonated with overwhelming force, compressing the air into a devastating shockwave. No matter how sharp Zenos's instincts were, no matter how well he could read the battlefield, he couldn't withstand this. The blast hurled him through the air, sending his body flying dozens of feet away.
Fwoooosh… bang!
Edward fired a flare straight into the sky. A blazing red light washed over the battlefield. Chloe's pickup truck tore through the dust and came to a hard stop. Drago jumped in without hesitation, while Edward swung onto Zenos's Rocket Bike, the same one he had deliberately taken, returning the favor.
On Gareth and Lloyd's side, after forcing their way through the interference in the P-Type armored vehicle, they finally reached 23. Without wasting a second, they helped haul Sophie and Lewis into the vehicle before every remaining car gunned their engines and fled the battlefield, leaving behind only fading dust. Zenos slowly pushed himself back up, while the Out Law reinforcements that had just arrived could do nothing but watch their targets disappear.
"Should we pursue them, Mr. Zenos?"
One of the Out Law men bowed his head and asked, already gripping his motorcycle, ready to give chase.
"No. Check the cargo. Anything still usable gets moved to the port immediately. I don't want to hear the Mortifer Syndicate complain about delays any more than they already have."
Zenos gave the order in a calm but commanding tone. The remaining Out Law scattered at once, moving quickly to salvage whatever value remained from the wrecked convoy.
Zenos stood still, staring into the thick curtain of dust ahead, now empty of any trace of the intruders. Beneath his mask, his eyes flickered for just a moment before he let out a quiet breath.
"Heh… got careless again, didn't I."
He muttered to himself, a note of self-reproach in his voice.
"That kid… who the hell is he? Not only did he ruin my plan, he even had the nerve to steal my bike right in front of me."
He shook off the thought of defeat and turned back to oversee the transport as if nothing had happened, leaving that quiet resentment buried deep, trailing after the fading silhouette of the Rocket Bike that had vanished into the distance.