Chapter 113: The Dead End

Manfred and Basil were veterans of the mercenary world. Though they were well over eighty—still far from the two-hundred-year average lifespan of the Federation—it was rare for mercenaries of their age to still be taking on active missions. Most mercenaries spent their youth accumulating wealth, only to settle into steady jobs or enjoy their retirement once they grew older. A few continued to fight, driven by the desire for strength or the hope of a breakthrough.

Manfred and Basil were different. They shared a common vice: gambling. Despite their age, they had no savings, only a mountain of debt. Yet, for all their incompetence in financial management, they were exceptionally skilled as mercenaries.

They had accepted the one-million-credit contract to kidnap David, fully anticipating the difficulty of the task. Upon arriving in Perrin City, they did not rush to buy information, choosing instead to linger for two days. After learning of David’s reputation and his close ties to the military, they understood the true gravity of the mission. Still, they did not give up; they trusted their own expertise.

Through covert channels, they acquired enough information about David to understand the situation of such a student. When they discovered David owned a secondary residence, they saw an opening. If they could breach the property's security system, they could lay in wait; given David’s connection to the place, he was bound to return. It was a desperate measure. Over the past few days, they had observed that David traveled exclusively in a Type II Land Tiger armored vehicle, flying through the air. This made interception impossible for any mercenary, and since David spent his time at home—a place where several armored warriors had already perished a month prior—no one dared to attempt an ambush there.

Manfred and Basil possessed a patience that other mercenaries lacked, and they eventually devised this plan. The ongoing sandstorm only made their task easier. However, from the moment they began, they encountered trouble. This was no ordinary residence; it was a military-grade fortress, built with military-style architecture and security protocols.

Fortunately, they possessed a specialized electronic jammer, a prized possession purchased from a master of electronic warfare. Amidst a faint electronic hum, the jammer simulated a scanning signal, masking an area of about two cubic meters on the special alloy wall.

Basil drew his Grade 1 weapon—a rare military dagger. Few armored warriors chose such a weapon; it was shorter and lighter than a longsword. Fighting the Zerg with a dagger was akin to hand-to-hand combat, a choice no warrior would make. Yet, Basil had his reasons. He was a former military scout, trained exclusively with short blades. After retiring, he had used performance-enhancing drugs to force his strength to the minimum threshold required for an armored warrior. Once he reached that status, he stuck with the weapon he knew best. It was cheap, and he had no intention of ever returning to the nightmarish battlefields of his past.

Though his strength was at the absolute minimum and he had no potential for further growth, he had killed many warriors far stronger than himself thanks to his assassination techniques.

The glowing edge of his Grade 1 military dagger sliced through the special alloy wall as if it were soft mud. Soon, a hole large enough for a person appeared. Manfred and Basil exchanged a look; years of partnership allowed them to communicate their intentions without a word.

"Armor up, move in," Manfred whispered.

Basil nodded. But as they turned, they were stunned to see that the hovercar parked nearby had vanished.

"There!" Despite the sandstorm, Basil quickly spotted the hovercar hovering about thirty meters in the air. Beside it, like a phantom, drifted another military armored vehicle.

After drawing the attention of the two warriors, David had set his hovercar to minimal power. Aided by the sandstorm and the fact that the two men were fully focused on the security system, the hovercar had slowly ascended to its current position. Although he had full control over the enemy's exoskeletons, David chose not to use the vehicle's weapons immediately. The Type II Land Tiger carried a rapid-fire cannon designed for large targets, which was ineffective against individuals, and while the two heavy machine guns were powerful, the interference from the sandstorm made the electronic targeting system unreliable. He couldn't guarantee a clean kill.

So, David waited. When the two men finally breached the wall, his opportunity arrived.

As Manfred and Basil looked toward him, the heavy machine guns mounted on the sides of the Type II Land Tiger emerged. The vehicle’s engine emitted a low roar as it diverted energy to stabilize its position. The automated machine guns locked onto their targets. The sandstorm was a factor, but David didn't need pinpoint precision.

A barrage of bullets erupted, firing at a rate of over a dozen rounds per second.

"It's the target! Defend!" Manfred roared. He pulled a folding shield from his back, which snapped open to form a barricade.

Both men dove behind the cover. Without their exoskeleton armor, their bodies were incredibly vulnerable; they could not withstand the fire of heavy machine guns. Even with bulletproof vests, those were designed for light-to-medium weaponry, not military-grade vehicle armaments.

"We can only hold for five seconds! What do we do?" Manfred shouted through gritted teeth.

"Inside! Use the wall for cover, then use smoke grenades to retreat!" Basil replied, glancing at the hole behind them.

If one of them had risked drawing fire, the other could have escaped, but David had waited until they breached the wall to attack, giving them a better option. They wouldn't choose a more dangerous path. Manfred and Basil hoisted the shield and scrambled through the hole into the courtyard, where the machine-gun fire could no longer reach them.

But the moment they stepped inside, a chilling sensation crawled up their spines.

"It's a death trap!"

Basil’s body displayed incredible agility. He sprang back toward the hole like a cat, his speed defying his status as a low-level warrior. It was the correct choice; even if the machine guns hit him, his vest would leave him severely wounded but alive. If he moved at full speed, he could minimize the damage and potentially escape into the storm.

But before Basil could reach the opening, the Type II Land Tiger fired a shell from its main cannon toward the hole. Basil twisted his body in mid-air to dodge the explosion, but the maneuver cost him his chance at escape.

With a sharp click, two defensive heavy machine guns flipped up from the ground, and a deafening, rapid-fire roar filled the air.