Chapter 30
What Are Water Muscles Supposed to Do Anyway
***
At that impudent remark, the fixers burst out laughing one after another.
Only Norman did not laugh. The goodwill he had shown for once had been trampled underfoot.
“Indeed, in this line of work, showing generosity just gets you looked down on. And idiots who don’t even know their place tend to die young.”
The opponent was unard, but Norman did not hesitate and pulled out a submachine gun.
A masterpiece produced by Seven tal, the Speeder F33.
By increasing the proportion of magnetic acceleration instead of gunpowder propulsion, it had succeeded in being miniaturized. On top of that, its rate of fire was exceptional, making it not difficult to turn a single person into a lump of at.
“Kill him.”
Click. A dry tallic sound rang out.
A prelude to a volley of gunfire.
The mont countless gun barrels were aid at him, Ga-on sprinted forward while shielding his head and chest with both forearms. No matter how exceptional he was, it was impossible to dodge every bullet in open terrain.
From the start, his own safety had been a lower priority.
What mattered above all else was the safety of Dobby and Sera.
That was why he first targeted the portable anti-tank weapon positioned relatively far away.
Clatter.
He clenched the knuckle he pulled from inside his clothes.
The gunner, who had been montarily dazed, quickly corrected his stance upon noticing Ga-on’s approach, but that fleeting opening decided life and death.
Crunch.
A horrific rupturing sound that was hard to believe ca from flesh colliding with flesh.
With the bridge of his nose crushed so badly it nearly touched the back of his head, the outco was already decided.
After kicking away the one who had died on the spot, Ga-on dispassionately extended his fist toward the next target.
The shoulder and elbow that ford the axis of the movent had long since disappeared from sight.
Only the sound of wind being sliced through hinted at the fierce onslaught that followed.
To stop him, lead bullets embedded themselves into him from all directions, but it was useless.
Once a step had been taken, it never stopped.
Ga-on had lured the ruffians to an empty place in order to wipe them out. In the wasteland, only the logic of strength reigned supre.
It was truly lawless.
He was able to continue bold and decisive iron-fisted punishnt that could never be carried out in the Seed Colony.
After kicking a man who was trying to approach the van and sending him flying into the vehicle on the opposite side, Ga-on brushed the dust off his shoulder. At the sa ti, bullets embedded nearby were pushed out by newly grown flesh and fell away.
That was when he ca back to his senses from his trance.
Looking around, the only person still standing was the man who had introduced himself as Norman.
“So you ran fast, that’s why they called you a Sprinter.”
“You……”
It was an evaluation bordering on mockery, but rather than flying into a rage, Norman widened the distance between them. Even when the request had first co in, he had held a negative stance. Through past experiences, he had painfully learned what it ant to get entangled with corporations in modern society.
However, after hearing about Dobby’s circumstances, he had changed his mind.
A half-wit who could not even stand up on his own.
On top of that, even Koln, his only pillar of support, had turned his back on him. There was nothing to hold back.
Confident that the social repercussions would be minimal, he had stepped in personally.
Low risk, high return.
Was that not the ideal every fixer desired?
But then, out of nowhere, a man appeared and shattered all expectations.
Despite having taken an attack that should have been close to instant death, he got back up again and again. He wondered if there had been a misfire, but the coat riddled with holes indirectly testified to the fierce battle that had just taken place.
It was incomprehensible.
Because of that, he had no choice but to discard his preconceived notions.
“Did you co from another colony.”
“You’re not from around here.”
“Right, that’s why you didn’t know who I was.”
Even as he replied casually, Norman did not forget to replace the magazine in his submachine gun. From the start of the engagent until now, the opponent had thoroughly protected his head and chest.
Where his weakness lay was perfectly obvious.
Aiming the muzzle at Ga-on’s chest, Norman pulled the trigger without warning.
At the shot fired toward his brow, Ga-on reflexively twisted his waist. But right then, sothing unexpected happened.
Suddenly, the bullet veered away from linear motion and began to trace a gentle curve.
A smart bullet.
Advanced science and technology twisted even absolute principles.
The mont the curved trajectory, bent like taffy, pierced straight through the temple, Norman was convinced beyond doubt that Ga-on was dead.
Yet, contrary to that expectation, just before toppling backward, Ga-on propped up his upper body using only his core strength and closed in rapidly. Every ti Norman blinked, his position had changed.
He even seed to have gained more montum than before.
Even the mutant experintal subject he had taken a request on previously would not have been this tenacious.
“You crazy bastard!”
The slot installed in his head, the Second Brain, calculated the trajectory in place of a fire-control system.
The muzzle shook wildly, unable to withstand the recoil from the sudden barrage, but the bullet trajectories converged into a single line.
“So predictable.”
A killing tool that always hit its target.
At a glance, it seed like an overwhelmingly powerful weapon, but in reality, it was the exact opposite. As long as one dodged while accounting for the angle of the curve, that was enough.
Moreover, a smart bullet only demonstrated its true effectiveness with a single shot after being fired.
In theory, it could be done multiple tis, but the kinetic energy lost in the process was enormous.
And that ant the reduction in penetration was the sa as a firearm failing to fulfill its role.
Sacrificing firepower to increase accuracy was nothing but nonsense.
Therefore, the distance between the two inevitably closed.
Just before Ga-on, now right in front of him, threw a punch, Norman kicked off the ground and leapt.
Both of his legs were custom-made, prepared specifically for becoming a fixer.
The physical capabilities created by artificial muscles, compression springs, and pistons had long since surpassed those of humans by a vast margin.
Ga-on knocked aside Norman’s right leg, but Norman did not panic.
Because it had been a feint.
Just before his foot touched the ground, he changed direction and aid under Ga-on’s chin with his left leg.
An impeccably clean flying kick.
At the mont of impact, the power was doubled with the assistance of a booster.
A blow no different from a soaring rocket.
Norman did not stop there and continued his fierce assault, using his right leg as the axis.
That was the true reason he was called a Sprinter.
The mont he was convinced he had seized the upper hand—
Ting.
An ominous sound seized his ears. By the ti he tried to understand it, it was already too late. Both of his legs had been severed in an instant.
Norman toppled over awkwardly and stared at his lower body.
The cross-sections were so smooth they looked as if they had been cut cleanly by a blade.
Only then did Norman realize that Ga-on’s armant had changed.
“Two knuckles?”
He had thought there was only one, but it seed Ga-on had been using two overlapped all along.
Just as he said.
The knuckles Ga-on carried were not a single piece.
One hundred fifty thousand Pia.
With the money he had on hand, the weapons he could acquire were limited. Even so, he had purchased two knuckles for the sake of one device alone.
“It’s a towing wire. Not bad for sothing improvised, right?”
A thin strand connecting the two knuckles flashed as it caught the light.
Its tensile strength was 600 kg/mm².
Under the right conditions, it was strong enough to pull even an aircraft.
Having sothing like that wrapped tight and squeezed around them, there was no way even tal prosthetic legs could endure it.
Ga-on pulled the towing wire taut and smiled.
“So, how long do you think you can hold out, Mr. Sprinter?”
“I won’t tell you anything.”
***
Norman, who was fast on his feet, was just as exceptional when it ca to talking. In less than a minute, he had confessed everything he knew.
Thanks to that, thorough preliminary investigation beca possible.
The place where the mastermind resided was Palr Tower Palace, built in District 20.
As only the chosen were allowed to live there, every entrance was under perfect control.
Not only were citizen IDs on devices verified, but hazardous material detection sensors and tal detectors were operated simultaneously. In addition, contracted security conducted regular patrols.
At the civilian level, it was top-tier.
It could be called an impregnable fortress that outsiders could not even approach.
But exceptions existed everywhere.
After infiltrating the premises, Ga-on did not even glance at the main gate and instead wandered around the surroundings.
Since he boldly walked around as if he were a resident, no one seed to find him suspicious.
There was no reason to deliberately choose a frontal assault. It was enough to get up sowhere between the third and fourth floors. No one would be inspecting that high up anyway.
By coincidence, several windows were left open. For security, it would have been ideal to keep them closed, but the people living here were not the type to heed such advice.
Sure enough, even while he was spying, windows were opening and closing intermittently.
After securing a suitable spot, Ga-on swiftly threw the towing wire, wary of anyone approaching.
Clack. In an instant, the knuckle attached to the end caught on the window fra.
After tugging on it a few tis to make sure it was secure, Ga-on climbed up the single line using only the strength of his arms.
Completely bypassing the search procedures, once he entered the interior everything proceeded smoothly. He simply had to run like flowing water and board the elevator.
Ga-on’s destination was the 42nd floor.
Since the entire floor was used exclusively, there were bound to be several people waiting on standby in case of ergencies.
When he spun the towing wire like a pair of nunchucks, the knuckle hooked at the end expelled a nacing gust of wind.
As the elevator rose higher, the power of the spinning knuckle gradually increased.
Ding.
The mont the cheerful sound rang out and the elevator doors slid open to either side, Ga-on released all the power he had been gathering without hesitation.
Slice.
The closest guard was bisected by the towing wire. It was a fatal technique that allowed no room for counterattack.
“Ghk.”
True to their status as professionals, they assessed the situation within milliseconds and aid their firearms, but it was a aningless struggle. They only beca sacrifices to the towing wire that had begun to spin again.
Kikikik.
However, the very last one was different. The towing wire, which had been spinning at full speed, stopped after wrapping itself around the man’s forearm.
It was obvious that it was a thickly armored prosthetic arm.
Ga-on pulled without hesitation.
“What—”
“What are water muscles supposed to do anyway.”
After kicking the man who was being helplessly dragged toward him, Ga-on smashed the man’s face with the knuckle in his other hand. He kept striking until the body went limp.
Trying to run was useless. The towing wire had beco a tether connecting the two of them.
Thud.
After shoving aside the man who had collapsed into a bloody ss, Ga-on opened the door and stepped inside.
What caught his eye was a man with a strikingly stubborn set to his mouth. A face that could belong equally to a middle-aged man or an elderly one, as if it had been ticulously maintained for a long ti.
It was clear that years of experience had seeped into his features.
“Miyata Ito.”
The vice chairman of Maximum Noise and an internal collaborator who had sided with Allen. Since Ga-on had investigated beforehand, there was no chance of confusion.
Confronted with the sudden uninvited guest, Ito tilted his head.
“Who are you?”
“How could you forget ?”
The mont Ga-on swung his arm, the thrown knuckle grazed Ito’s temple and embedded itself into the wall.
“You told them to beat to death.”
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