Chapter 154: Someone I might know
Chapter 154: Someone I might know
Blake lowered his head, pretending to reach into his pocket.
His lips barely moved.
"Take the gun out."
[Yes, Dear Host.]
A familiar weight settled into his palm.
The nearest soldier had barely recovered from Blake’s punch before Blake moved again.
He didn’t rush wildly this time.
Instead, he stepped diagonally, forcing two soldiers to block one another’s path. One baton came swinging toward him, but Blake slipped just inside its reach.
He caught the attacker’s forearm, twisted his wrist outward, and drove a short elbow into the man’s jaw.
The soldier stumbled sideways.
Another immediately replaced him, his fist flying toward Blake’s face.
He dodged it, although there was admittedly no need to do that, then drove his shoulder into the man’s chest, forcing him backward into two others.
’Eh, I don’t think I can pull off Myles’ teachings if the same exact movements his taught me aren’t repeated from both sides...’
He knew it was a limitation, but his skill allows him to learn fast only what he is taught, not to use his imagination and create new tactics.
"Guns!"
One of them shouted.
Three rifles rose simultaneously.
Bang!
Bang!!
Bang!!!
Three bullets struck the invisible layer surrounding Blake.
Ripples spread through the air like stones dropped into water, each impact slamming against his body.
"Ugh..."
The bullets spun harmlessly away, clattering across the concrete.
"What the hell?"
"So they really do bounce off their bodies!"
Another soldier fired from much closer.
The round struck Blake’s shoulder, which, of course, hurt him considerably more.
Pain shot through his arm, making him grit his teeth.
"Don’t get close."
Before the man could pull the trigger again, Blake knocked the rifle upward, grabbed the barrel with one hand and slammed the buttstock back into the soldier’s own face.
Blood sprayed from the man’s nose as he collapsed.
More soldiers closed in.
Blake ducked beneath one strike, blocked another with his forearm, then pivoted sharply, driving a kick into someone’s thigh.
His movements weren’t perfect, really, probably because his brain was overflowing with anxiety.
He still overextended occasionally.
His footing wasn’t always ideal.
But unlike before, there was purpose behind every movement, he wasn’t flailing or simply relying on brute force.
Every dodge flowed into another attack.
Every strike created room for the next.
He was actually fighting properly, which gave him a wider view of what was around him.
Which, as a result, also helped him spot other attackers, and not only who was in front of him.
One soldier lunged.
Blake sidestepped him, caught the man’s vest and spun him around before locking an arm tightly around his neck.
His gun rose, the cold barrel pressing firmly against the hostage’s temple.
"Nobody move."
The circle stopped.
Blake slowly scanned them.
"I’ve got questions."
His voice remained steady.
"What is M.O.S.A.I.C.?"
Nobody answered.
One soldier looked directly at the hostage.
Then calmly said,
"Advance."
Blake blinked.
"Huh?"
The formation moved anyway with absolutely no hesitation.
No concern whatsoever for the man currently staring down the barrel of a gun.
’They seriously don’t care...?’
The hostage suddenly ducked.
Simultaneously, two soldiers rushed Blake from behind.
One grabbed his right arm, while the other wrapped both arms around his waist.
A third caught his left shoulder.
Within seconds, several more joined in.
They weren’t punching much anymore.
Instead, they were simply trying to immobilize him.
"Hold him!"
"Pin his legs!"
"Keep him down!"
Someone punched the side of his head.
The defense buff dulled the blow until it felt little stronger than a flick.
Another hit landed against his back.
Then another.
’Agh, this is annoying! How do I get off, heck! Twenty of them are on me! They’re trying to capture me... not kill me.’
Blake struggled briefly.
Then stopped.
A memory surfaced.
Myles’ voice.
"When several people grab you, don’t fight every hand. You’ll lose. Find the weakest point, shift everyone’s balance at once, and escape through the gap you create."
Blake inhaled.
Actually, he managed to something similar before, so this shouldn’t be too hard now.
Instead of pulling against every grip...
He relaxed.
Just enough for the soldiers to instinctively tighten theirs.
Then, he suddenly dropped his weight, his hips twisting sharply.
One foot hooked behind the ankle of the man restraining his legs while his shoulder rotated underneath the arm holding him from above.
The sudden shift dragged two soldiers into each other.
Their grips loosened.
That tiny opening was enough.
Blake exploded through it.
His elbow smashed into one man’s sternum.
His shoulder knocked another aside.
Within a second, he was free again.
The soldiers stumbled apart.
Blake backed away, breathing heavily.
His eyes lingered on the men he’d just escaped from.
’So... that’s how it is. They must not value each other, to just not care about a comrade dying.’
However, at AFE, they did shout at each other to be careful, so why like this now?
That was a problem.
Holding hostages.
Threatening lives.
Questioning prisoners.
None of it would work.
If nobody cared about the person beside them, how was he supposed to force information out of anyone?
’Whatever, probably M.O.S.A.I.C. isn’t some classified secret they all know, but a codeword drilled into every soldier to recognize and report.’
His thoughts were interrupted.
One of the soldiers quietly stepped back.
He unclipped a walkie-talkie from his vest.
Speaking into it in a low voice, he nodded several times.
"...I see."
A smile spread across his face, looking relieved.
Blake frowned.
’I can’t waste any more of my time here...’
There was only one reliable escape left.
Death risk.
Blake raised the gun, turning it toward his own head.
[ !Warning! ]
Just as his finger began tightening around the trigger, something struck him from behind.
There wasn’t even a warning, like footsteps or shadows.
Only impact.
His feet left the ground instantly, the world spinning.
He smashed across the concrete and rolled several meters before finally skidding to a stop.
"Dgh—!"
His lungs emptied.
Pain spread across his entire back.
The defense buff softened the collision considerably...
Yet it still felt as though he’d been hit by a speeding vehicle.
Blake coughed violently.
Dust filled his mouth.
For several seconds he couldn’t breathe properly.
Slowly, he forced himself onto one elbow, his eyes searching for the gun.
"..."
It was gone.
It had flown somewhere during the impact.
"Fuck!"
A powerful gust swept over him.
Before Blake could even stand, a hand clamped around both of his arms.
Or rather, a pair of steel-covered hands.
His arms were effortlessly forced behind his back.
Blake instinctively struggled, but nothing happened, the grip didn’t even budge.
As his vision cleared, he saw a very familiar figure standing, which made his breathing stop.
’W-what? This is, no, ah... Asher?’
Or rather, Trail-x.
As soon as he saw him, Blake bit his lips so hard they started bleeding. There wasn’t enough strength in the world for him to break free.
The way he was restraining him wasn’t unnecessarily rough.
If anything, the hold was surprisingly controlled and firm.
Just enough to ensure Blake couldn’t escape.
The armored figure turned his head toward the surrounding soldiers.
"I’ve got him."
The voice came through a mechanical filter, making it impossible to distinguish its original tone.
Blake swallowed.
His mask was still on. Trail-x hadn’t attempted to remove it yet.
But, that could change at any moment.
His pulse quickened.
’If he takes it off...’
Every horrifying possibility flooded his mind at once.
His identity.
Myles’ safety.
Everything he’s witnessed.
No.
He couldn’t think about that.
Panicking now wouldn’t help.
Trail-x began walking, practically dragging Blake alongside him.
He remained silent.
There was no way of knowing what might convince Trail-X to remove the mask.
Speaking carelessly seemed like the worst possible option.
Eventually, they stopped.
Trail-X pushed him down into a sitting position.
Oddly enough, he didn’t handcuff him.
He simply stood directly in front of him.
The surrounding soldiers spread out, forming a wide circle that completely blocked every escape route. They were far enough, and definetly couldn’t hear much from such a distance.
Asher looked down at him.
"For the moment..."
The altered voice echoed through the helmet.
"...I do not have authorization to remove your mask."
Blake looked up, relief flickering across his face for only an instant.
"But I do have authorization to question you."
Asher crouched until they were almost at eye level.
"What was your purpose here?"
Blake frowned.
’Good, I still have an opportunity.’
He subtly glanced around the area.
There were no discarded weapons.
Nothing immediately dangerous enough to trigger Spoon’s emergency teleport.
Still, his hands weren’t restrained, that alone meant there was still a chance, even if he couldn’t see it yet.
He returned his attention to Trail-X, smiling.
"I came here to document proof."
"What proof?"
"Proof that AL-TECH and the government are experimenting on human bodies."
The words settled over the checkpoint like a heavy fog.
Blake’s expression remained unchanged.
’Asher has been standing in a gray area since my last discoveries... but now, I could finally learn where he stands.