Chapter 94
Anyone who has played that famous arcade game featuring a blunt tank that looks like a toy would know.
The thrill you can feel only after using nothing but low-damage pea shooters all day and finally finding the alphabet item marked “H.”
BRRRT BRRRT─!!
Whether tracer rounds had been mixed in at intervals, or simply because the bullets themselves were so large.
I could see the trajectories of the flying bullets perfectly clearly.
KABOOM!!
And then there were the motorcycles that exploded when hit by them.
They clearly hadn't expected the cargo bed of the truck pursuing us to suddenly fly open and a 2.3-meter-tall figure to emerge from it.
The motorcycles ridden by agents of Ryan Eliens Company's mobile special operations unit quickly began fanning out around us.
In that game, which only had numbered installments up to the third, 200 rounds was the limit; but the ammunition bag Mikhail Romanov carried on his back had several hundred rounds hanging from it in belts.
A machine that truly called death….
Unless the heat melted the barrel, there seemed to be no need to worry about the firing stopping.
VROOOOM!!
The truck's eight-cylinder engine vibrated violently.
This is a bit of a digression, but even Risk City, which surged with chaos and destruction, had traffic laws.
Apparently, various regulations had been enacted, ranging from small matters such as the presence of crosswalks and traffic-light signals to major ones like restrictions on vehicle modifications.
But, like the Bogus Gang's modified truck, which was sealed shut on every side with thick steel plates, those laws simply weren't followed.
But in that regard, the megacorp's mobile special operations agents pursuing us—or, more precisely, Paul Lucas—could be considered extremely law-abiding.
WHOOSH!!
A motorcycle rapidly approached beneath the driver's-side window.
As I'd seen in front of the grocery store last time, the upper part of its head simply didn't exist.
It was a form that looked as though its humanity had been surgically removed.
Today's lesson in practical living.
“So if you don't have a head, you don't need to wear a motorcycle helmet, either.”
“What does that even….”
Ignoring Paul Lucas, who was muttering, I looked down at the megacorp agent who had pulled right alongside the truck.
He had probably looped around by way of another alley and taken an entirely different route.
If things were like that, even Mikhail with a heavy machine gun would have been helpless.
When I saw the submachine gun in the megacorp mobile special operations agent's hand, I unconsciously turned the wheel to bear down on the motorcycle.
VROOOM!
But the mobile special operations agent smoothly rode up onto the raised sidewalk as if performing a circus trick.
Anyone watching would have thought he was riding a bicycle.
A thin layer of snow covered the road, but driving on the snowy streets was easier than I'd expected.
It seemed the homeless men with experience working at repair shops had serviced the truck and changed its tires while they were at it.
That was the sole reason we hadn't immediately been caught by the motorcycles, which were faster than us.
Since I hadn't taken my foot off the accelerator, the truck's speed gradually increased.
Fortunately, there weren't that many people in the street.
“Hey, you crazy bastards! Drive properly….”
Not that there were none at all.
Just in case, let's honk the horn periodically.
HONK HONK!!!
Then small-caliber bullets peppered the driver's-side window.
“You fucking—”
Thank goodness it was bulletproof glass; I nearly departed this world right then and there.
I pulled a pistol from inside my coat and aimed it at the motorcycle.
And then.
[I have identified an agent of the Ryan Eliens Company's mobile special operations unit. Temporarily releasing output restrictions.]
I tilted my head at the strange voice.
“Huh?”
A strange heat rose from the smart pistol.
Before long.
[LOCK-ON.]
I instinctively pulled the trigger.
An enormous shock traveled through my shoulder.
KLANG─!!
Rather than a gunshot, a sound like a laser being fired burst from the muzzle.
I could handle the recoil of an assault rifle with one hand, but this time the hand holding the pistol rose of its own accord above my head.
“Ow, shit….”
I thought my wrist was going to break.
As for the motorcycle beside us, a hole larger than a baseball appeared in it, and it exploded on the spot.
I watched the smoking motorcycle collapse in the rearview mirror, then frowned.
“What is this now?”
Paul Lucas answered my mutter.
“The products sold by Beltech are inherently equipped with a function that increases their output to a certain degree against employees of competing corporations.”
“That’s not ‘to a certain degree.’”
“It is an exceptionally high-end product….”
It was something I'd sensed ever since I heard that they waged corporate war physically.
This really was a thoroughly insane world.
Whenever I thought I might be getting used to it, something new popped out.
I'd fired only one shot, but the pistol's condition was already fluctuating wildly, so I tossed it roughly onto the truck's dashboard.
This was actually a disadvantage.
The number of motorcycle pursuers visible in the rearview mirror was by no means just one or two.
No, there seemed to be even more than before….
[……. ]
[……. ]
All I'd done was show off some pointlessly terrifying firepower, and it seemed I'd only made the mobile special operations agents more wary.
Before long, they began throwing something shaped like round capsules toward the truck.
Soon, along with fiercely spinning propellers, countless eggs flew through the air.
“…I’m already getting a bad feeling.”
My prediction proved correct.
Whenever the fire from Mikhail's Gatling machine gun reached them, dark explosions poured forth.
BANG!! KABOOM!! KRAK-KRAK!
…Wasn't that really cheating?
No matter how good Mikhail's shooting was, there were bound to be limits eventually.
There was only one gun, while those bomb drones easily numbered in the dozens, even at a rough glance.
I belatedly noticed several egg-shaped drones burrowing beneath the truck.
Fuck, this is bad…….
“Grab onto anything!!”
The words leaped out before I could think.
Without even having time to draw breath.
A massive explosion erupted beneath the truck.
─KABOOOOOM!!!
·
·
·
An extremely brief blackout.
The severe pain coursing through my body barely allowed me to open my eyes.
“……!!”
Apparently, a scream only comes out when the pain is severe enough.
I learned another lesson.
A seat belt was not an option but a necessity when driving.
I had known that already, but I felt it all the more strongly now.
‘…Just how many times did I slam my body into things?’
Even Mikhail, who had been riding in the truck's cargo bed, had secured himself firmly with a safety lanyard so he wouldn't be thrown out. What kind of confidence had made me drive without fastening my seat belt?
I cautiously glanced to the side and saw Paul Lucas, hanging from his seat belt, pressed flat against the wall.
He also seemed to be struggling to hold on to his dizzy consciousness.
Judging roughly from the structure of our current position, the truck's body seemed to have toppled onto its side.
“Tsk….”
As I gritted my teeth and endured the pain my body was screaming out.
The face of a headless mobile special operations agent appeared through the truck's front windshield.
CRACK─!!
I instinctively lashed out with a kick.
That startled me.
Perhaps because it was bulletproof glass, the square windshield shoved him away and sent him flying into the distance.
At the same time, the submachine gun fired into the sky.
I brushed off the dust—whether it was sand or powdered glass, I couldn't tell—and slowly got to my feet.
Through the opening where the windshield had fallen away, I saw several motorcycles stop around us, whipping up a snowstorm.
‘What about the bomb drones….’
Isn't that a little too cowardly?
No, actually, this was only natural.
I just hadn't known because until now, I'd only fought gangs that were naïve and innocent.
“Tsk.”
I clicked my tongue lightly, rolled my shoulders, and finished stretching.
It would have been great if I could have shaken off all the pursuers while still in the truck.
‘Things don't always go the way you expect them to.’
When I trudged over and stopped in front of them.
[……. ]
[……. ]
They began chattering in another incomprehensible conversation.
Then those unseen gazes turned toward me.
[What are you? Are you an employee of Beltech? As we notified them, the person you are currently protecting is a traitor to both sides, so surrender now and hand him over.]
My identity?
I ran a hand over the mask I was wearing.
Come to think of it, I was wearing a strange mask.
They had started by firing without a word, and now they wanted to know what I was….
Even though I was facing numerous megacorp agents, I wasn't as tense as I had expected.
Was it thanks to the 【Iron Mind】 trait?
I really had been right to pick that one.
“Me?”
I scratched the area below my mask around my neck and looked around.
Just then, I heard the sound of Mikhail heaving his heavy body up in the truck's cargo bed.
‘I don't know how much help Paul Lucas, who said he was out of bullets, will be.’
For now, maybe it would be best to count him out.
“If I intended to tell you my identity, I wouldn’t have come out wearing this mask in the first place. You’re terribly short-sighted. Is it because you have no head?”
[……. ]
In the subdued atmosphere, I continued thinking.
Where could the weakness of a headless opponent be?
The spine? The internal organs? The joints? Well, I could check directly in a moment.
“My identity…. Hmm.”
I lightly clenched my fist and added.
“Just a passerby.”
[…I don’t understand. It is logically contradictory to operate equipment on the level of corporate mercenaries while claiming to be a civilian. I demand a proper answer.]
Listen to how stiffly it talks.
It looked like a robot, too, what with its appearance.
Passersby were always the strongest.
It wasn't for nothing that wandering scholars or monks in traditional folktales took on the role of deus ex machina.
I didn't open my mouth again.
Mikhail and Paul Lucas, too.
They seemed to have finally come to their senses.
Sensing that the atmosphere had changed, the egg-shaped bomb drones began hovering around the truck again.
‘…The bombs look like they'll be a pain.’
Just as I was wondering whether to crawl back into the truck and retrieve the pistol I'd thrown inside,
I sensed a presence descending from the sky above.
That familiar shadow─.
A faint, disbelieving laugh spread across my face.
KRAKAKAKAK─.
Flames scattered beneath the gloomy clouds as if a magnificent fireworks display had gone off.
The fierce gust swept away every snowflake piled up around us without a trace.
Zzt….
The mobile special operations agents murmured under their breath when they spotted the katana gleaming red.
[…An Inferno Katana?]
A violent plasma reaction roiled around the hilt clenched in the ninja's hand.
This was ridiculous.
“You bastard….”
How did you even know about our truck and follow us here?
Then.
A cat landed lightly on the ground and opened its mouth in a blunt tone.
“Do─mo. I’m a cat passing by.”