_____________________________________________________________
High-Value Asset Escort
Estimated Level: Recruit, Operative
Initiated Date: 23/11/127
Client: Confidential
Location: Outskirts of Northern District
Reward: 1,500 kila
Number of Participants: 2/4
Description: Guard a package until it reaches its destination. Slight resistance expected. Details provided upon acceptance.
Deployment: 4 hours 12 minutes
_____________________________________________________________
Intrigued, Rion clicked on the job description.
The mission stood out for several reasons: the urgency, the high reward, and the bonus assignment points. Additionally, with the current number of participants at three out of five, the team wasn't yet complete, and he wouldn't be working alone, a potential advantage for what seemed to be a fairly medium-risk mission.
Hmmm.....
He leaned back in his chair, considering his options. Even though he had just completed one mission, he didn't feel particularly exhausted. Guarding the party earlier had been a straightforward task, just standing watch to make sure the guests didn't break something while intoxicated.
Rion tapped his fingers on the edge of his desk, pondering. The mission seemed like a good opportunity, especially since it would put him in a better position for future assignments.
Although it was risky, successful completion would solidify his reputation and fast-track his advancement within the Mercenary Legion. Based on his interpretation of his current level of strength, he should be able to handle himself or at least escape if things went wrong.
He hesitated for a moment, considering the potential risks, but his ambition drove him to click the ʼAcceptʼ button. Almost immediately, his screen flashed with new details about the assignment. The mission involved guarding a high-value item during its transport from one secure facility to another across the city. The details about the item were sparse, but it was clear that it was of significant importance and that the transport would be a prime target for criminal elements.
The system confirmed his participation and provided the location details, as well as a time to meet the other team members. The rendezvous point was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the Northern District, scheduled for the early hours of the next morning.
With a few hours to prepare, he focused on ensuring his gear was in top condition. He double-checked his newly crafted magnetic handguns, tested the functionality of his bulletproof vest, and went over the modifications he had made. He also packed a small toolkit, just in case any repairs were needed on the fly.
* * *
Some time later, Rion stood on a desolate street in the Northern District, the city's industrial zone. Midnight had cloaked the area in a deep, unsettling darkness, interrupted only by the occasional flicker of a dying streetlamp. The warehouses and factories, relics of an industrious past, now loomed as silent, crumbling giants under the pale glow of the moon.
Broken windows and rusted metal framed the dilapidated structures, their facades marred by graffiti and years of neglect. A heavy mist hung low to the ground, swirling around Rion's feet as he walked, muffling his footsteps and adding to the eerie silence that enveloped the area. The air was cold and damp, carrying the faint, acrid smell of industrial decay, mixed with the subtle scent of wet earth.
As he approached the designated location, his instincts kicked in and caused him to stop abruptly. Half a second later, he heard a loud bang as a young woman emerged from the cover of darkness, a gun pointed directly at him. The woman was slightly short, with an athletic build and a confident stance. Her hair was tied back in a tight braid, and she had a focused, professional air about her.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice steady and eyes sharp.
Rion remained calm, raising his hands slightly to show he meant no harm. "I'm Forger," he replied. "I'm here for the mission."
The woman scrutinized him for a moment before nodding. "Show me the mission seal."
After successfully accepting a mission, the system generated a unique seal accessible only to those who had officially joined the assignment. This measure was designed to prevent infiltration and sabotage by faking identities.
Rion slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, displaying the mission seal on the screen. The woman glanced at it and then back at him, her stance relaxing slightly.
"Alright, you're clear," she said, lowering her gun. "Follow me."
She led him into the warehouse, navigating through the darkened hallways with ease. "I'm Bailey, by the way. You're the last to arrive," she mentioned over her shoulder. "The others are already inside."
As he entered the warehouse, his eyes scanned the dimly lit space, noticing some figures at the far end loading items into a waiting truck. The darkness obscured the details, leaving him unable to discern what exactly they were handling.
Bailey motioned for him to follow, and he obediently trailed after her. A short while later, they entered a large room containing three other individuals, engaged in quiet discussion.
Bailey gestured for Rion to join them as she holstered her weapon. "Everyone, this is Forger. He's our fifth member."
There were two men and one woman, each bearing the distinctive marks of seasoned mercenaries. The first man was tall and muscular, with a shaved head and a no-nonsense demeanor. He wore a tactical vest over his plain clothes, his arms crossed as he listened to the others, a large assault rifle slung over his shoulders.
The second man who was seated on some rusty chair looked to be in his late thirties or early forties with a face that was ordinary and was the kind of person you couldn't easily recognize on the street. However, his arms were quite lengthy to the extent that when he was seated, it looked like his hands could effortlessly touch the ground if he wanted to, giving people a feeling of incongruence.
As for the woman, she was medium height, with a lean build and sharp, intelligent eyes. Her short, dark hair framed her face, and she wore a sleek, black jumpsuit that hinted at both flexibility and protection.
What a colorful bunch...
The bald man nodded in greeting while the woman gave him a quick once-over. The third person, the man with the really long arms grunted an acknowledgment.
"What's your rank?" the bald man asked, his tone tinged with skepticism.
Rion met his gaze evenly. "Recruit," he replied, noting the subtle looks of scorn that flickered across the faces of the others.
Indifferent to their gazes, he watched as a figure opened the door and approached them, wearing a face mask that obscured his features. "Good, we're all here," he said briskly. "Let's get started."
"That's the client." Bailey said, to which the figure nodded and pulled out a small device, displaying a map of the area with a marked route.
"Your job is to escort this package to a secure location about 50 miles north. We're expecting some resistance, but nothing you guys shouldn't be able to handle. The package is currently being loaded into the transport vehicle parked outside."
"Any intel on the resistance?" Rion asked, wanting to gauge the level of threat.
The man spoke up, his voice quiet but confident. "Local gang activity mostly. They've been trying to intercept our transports in this area for a while. Expect small arms fire, maybe some improvised explosives. Nothing too heavy, but you need to stay sharp. It's easy money."
"Just make sure you do your part," the bald man said, shooting a scornful glance at Rion.
Jeez...
He only rolled his eyes in response to the bald man's comment, unfazed by his attitude. His mental state had transcended the point where he would be bothered by some person's remarks.
As the masked figure continued to outline the mission plan, Rion listened intently, absorbing every detail. The route, potential threats, and contingency plans were all laid out with precision, leaving no room for error.
"Miss Bailey here is a contracted mercenary working for us and will be your liason for this mission. Remember, delivering the package whole is of utmost importance," he reminded them, his tone stern.
With the briefing concluded, the group wasted no time in gearing up for the task ahead. He retrieved his magnetic handguns and checked them one last time, ensuring they were fully loaded and ready for action.
As they made their way outside, he observed the waiting transport vehicle, a sturdy-looking truck with reinforced armor. The cargo area was already sealed shut, the contents hidden from view. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation at the thought of what they were tasked with guarding.
Bailey took charge, assigning roles and responsibilities to each team member. Perhaps because of his low level, Rion was assigned to providing support fire for the bald man. He accepted the assignment without protest, not really caring about the smirk on the bald man's face.
With their roles assigned and their objectives clear, the team climbed into the vehicle, their focus honed on the task ahead. The aloof woman took the driver's seat, with Bailey beside her, while he, the bald man and the long armed guy shuffled into the seats at the back.
* * *
The truck navigated through the darkened streets with minimal traffic. The industrial district was largely abandoned this early in the morning, save for the occasional passing vehicle. Rion kept a close eye on their surroundings, his senses alert for any sign of trouble.
The first part of the journey was uneventful, the truck's powerful engine purring as it moved steadily through the deserted streets. But as they approached a more remote section of the Northern District, a sense of foreboding crept in. The buildings grew sparser, and the streetlights fewer and farther between.
The urban landscape began to give way to long stretches of neglected warehouses and vacant lots overgrown with weeds. The occasional flickering streetlamp cast eerie shadows, creating an unsettling atmosphere. The silence was punctuated only by the low hum of the truck's engine and the occasional distant bark of a stray dog.
Rion's eyes darted around, noting the potential hiding spots among the crumbling buildings and abandoned vehicles. He tightened his grip on his magnetic handguns, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of danger. The air grew colder, and a dense fog began to roll in, further reducing visibility and adding to the growing sense of unease.
Bailey's voice cut through the din. "We're more than halfway through the journey. Stay alert."
Rion acknowledged her instructions with a curt nod, even though she couldn't see him. The tension inside the truck was palpable. Everyone knew that the area they were approaching was a prime location for an ambush. It was a narrow bridge spanning a deep ravine, the kind of place where an attack could be devastating.
The truck slowed as it approached the bridge. The metal structure groaned under the weight of the vehicle, and the sound echoed through the night.
"Eyes sharp," the bald man muttered beside him, his own weapon at the ready.
The truck continued its cautious advance. The tension was almost unbearable, every creak of the bridge and rustle of the leaves setting everyone on edge.
«BOOM!»
They had just crossed when a series of explosions rocked the road ahead, sending debris flying into the air. The aloof woman swerved hard to avoid the craters that suddenly appeared, but the truck fishtailed, nearly spinning out of control.
"Hold on!" Bailey shouted to the three in the back seat, as the woman fought to steady the vehicle, the acrid smell of gasoline and rubber filling the air.
A short while later, just as Rion thought that the woman was finally getting the truck back under control, the sound of gunshot rang out like thunder, followed by the shattering of glass.
In the next moment, the aloof woman in the driver's seat had her head blown open.
"..."
Rion watched the bloody scene in front of him, his face twitching.
Hehe... I'm in danger....