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17: High-End Player (2)

Suddenly, the "Danger Avoidance" instinct kicked in again! The laser red dot from a sniper's rifle targeted Cyrus.

Still using a silencer, the bullet was fired soundlessly. This time, with Cyrus's warning, Argentum was prepared. The water screen expanded instantly, the bullet hit it, spinning to a stop as it lost all momentum.

Argentum's water screen enveloped Cyrus in a 360-degree protective shell, ensuring not a single bullet would reach her.

"A serial ambush!" Argentum exclaimed in shock. "There's still someone lying in wait for you!"

He shuddered at the thought.

Cyrus had been shot on the street, survived, pursued the hitman to the abandoned building, and upon the hitman's death, was investigating the crime scene when another bullet came whizzing from an oblique angle.

If Cyrus had let her guard down for even a second, thinking she was safe after the hitman's demise, she would have been dead now.

"We have to chase them down!" Argentum declared.

"Did you see the red dot that appeared on me? This time it wasn't a rifle; it was a sniper rifle, far too distant to chase," Cyrus made a calm decision to give up the pursuit. "The mastermind behind this is extremely cautious."

She and Argentum moved away from the window and retreated from the abandoned building to a safer corner to wait for Red's arrival.

"If you had to choose the most trustworthy person from everyone at tonight's meeting, who would it be?" Cyrus asked, turning to Argentum.

"Red," Argentum replied without hesitation. "He's one of the oldest members."

"And the least trustworthy?"

Argentum answered, "There are some people I don't know well enough to judge."

Cyrus pondered, "They might not have betrayed us. They might have been controlled by a parasitic entity if exotic species have the capability to parasitize awakened beings..."

Argentum's gaze darkened. "The headquarters will figure out what that exotic species is."

Cyrus adjusted her hood, covering her face securely. The mask was broken, but only a small part of her forehead was exposed. Tightening the hood of her sweatshirt could conceal her face.

In the darkness, with the shooter at a distance and night vision devices able to see figures but not faces, Cyrus wasn't sure if her metallic skull had been exposed when the first bullet hit. Was the mastermind nearby observing in secret, or controlling things from afar? Had he guessed how she blocked the bullet?

She realized that having all team members send real-time locations wasn't an absolutely foolproof method. Locations could be tampered with, and a qualified mastermind wouldn't expose themselves on such minor details. She had made the calls to confirm everyone's status, to bluff the other side, in case they slipped up, allowing her to lock onto the mastermind's identity.

Unfortunately, this time's mastermind was a "high-end player," well-hidden, even setting up a serial trap.

Five minutes later, Red arrived, speeding through the streets on a motorcycle, with Mixologist seated behind him. Both were wearing disguise masks.

Mixologist got off the bike first. His eyes beneath the mask turned red as he scanned the surroundings. "No surveillance devices, no suspicious individuals carrying weapons, it's safe for now."

Red, fixing his windblown, highlighted hair, gave Cyrus a once-over and tossed her a vial of medicine. "Here, apply this. It's indeed conspicuous to have a wound on the head. This new type of medicine heals in three hours; no need to worry."

Cyrus opened the medicine and reached under her hood to apply it to her forehead. "I've sent the report to headquarters."

"Did you catch the person?" Red asked.

"He's dead. While waiting for you, I was investigating the scene and then suffered a second attack. I didn't pursue the second shooter; they were too far away." Cyrus brought up her wrist device and sent the photos to Red. "All the photos are here. The evidence is a communicator and a gun. Argentum has the communicator."

"An exotic species I've never seen," Red frowned in disgust. "Only you could take such a revolting photo."

Mixologist leaned in for a look and wrinkled his brow as well.

Cyrus continued, "The hitman's body is on the second floor... well, it's just a puddle of blood now, only a sample can be taken. During the second attack, the abandoned building was the observation point, and the shooter's position should be between four and five o'clock... If you go now and search, you should be able to find some bullet casings."

"We have a traitor among us," Red concluded without needing Cyrus to elaborate. "It's too much of a coincidence; there's no way it's just a coincidence..."

Despite his quirky appearance, Red's mind was sharp.

Cyrus added, "Argentum and I deliberately changed our route home, but the enemy tracked me down."

"How did the enemy track us? Human surveillance? Micro-machinery?" Argentum said gravely. "Our situation is too dangerous."

Mixologist offered, "I didn't sense any tracking devices. The enemy didn't use technological means to track us. As for human tracking, that primitive method wouldn't go unnoticed by Argentum and Madame Riches. We can't rule out the possibility that the enemy has tracking and surveillance supernatural abilities."

Cyrus glanced sideways. Mixologist's supernatural ability seemed related to sensing and detection, and he could sense high-tech devices?

"Don't go back home; it's too dangerous. Without understanding the enemy's tracking methods, returning could expose your address," Red directed. "Madame Riches, you and Argentum rest in the safe house. I'll contact headquarters later to have a few auxiliary teams come to investigate the scene."

Members of the auxiliary teams usually lacked supernatural powers and often engaged in support roles like cleaning up after battles, assembling munitions, technical analysis, etc. Lacking supernatural powers didn't mean they were mere foot soldiers; every team member had undergone rigorous training and mastered knowledge in their fields of expertise.

Compared to awakened beings, ordinary people were the majority in the Mechanism Dawn organization.

"The rest is up to you. I have to work; I can't rearrange my schedule like you guys," Cyrus said.

"Alright," Red replied, "You focus on dealing with the Enforcement Department. I'll take care of the traitor in the rear."

A deadly aura emanated from him.

"Bring them to me alive if you can catch them," Cyrus said. "I want to know who they are."

...

Python's hand trembled as he took a drag from his cigar, whispering into the communicator, "I'm out."

"That 'Madame Riches' is too sharp. Half a minute... maybe not even half a minute after the hitman fired, she caught him. 'Argentum,' with Madame Riches, has at least a B-level awakening, possibly close to A," he repeated, "I'm out! I don't want to die!"

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"I overestimated you. I thought you'd be braver," came the hoarse voice from the communicator, disguised by a voice changer. "I promised you a new identity and a life elsewhere after the job was done."

"Before embracing a new life, I'd be dead," Python argued. "It's too dangerous. Damn it, damn it! I shouldn't have been tempted to agree to kill Madame Riches for you! Red's methods are more terrifying than you think; Madame Riches is not someone to mess with. They'll suspect me... they're already suspecting me! Madame Riches called me after the shooting, asking where I was. She must be testing me!"

Python was panicking, the more he thought about it, the more frightened he became. "I'm taking on much more risk than you described. I can't take any more chances."

"Don't shirk responsibility. You failed to attach enough scent markers to your teammates. That's the main reason for our current predicament. If the scent marking had been successful, we could have tracked everyone from tonight's meeting and started the decapitation operation immediately, eliminating them one by one. You wouldn't have to be so anxious," the person on the other end said coldly. "But your scent marking only tagged a few people, and the amount was so small it dissipated in two hours, making it hard to track them."

"If there wasn't such a time crunch, with such a rare opportunity, and given Madame Riches' 'important' role in the meeting, I wouldn't have had you act tonight. You know how much damage a well-trained undercover can do to a tight-knit organization. Madame Riches must die; if we miss tonight, the scent marking is gone, and we won't be able to track her down! We don't even know who Madame Riches is! You failed to follow my instructions to kill Madame Riches and didn't even get a sample of her body tissue. That's your mistake."

"It's not clear yet whether Madame Riches is an undercover agent. If Red hasn't confirmed it, it's just a suspicion that needs further investigation. What's the use of your certainty that Madame Riches is an undercover agent? Your hasty and erroneous decisions are causing me to bear the consequences," Python argued. "And about the scent marking... I had just taken out a cigar to smoke when Argentum doused my cigar with water. What could I do? I only had that one specially made cigar, and once it got wet, I couldn't light it."

Thinking about it exhausted Python.

He had entered the meeting room and lit a cigar, a special task prop. The scent factors it emitted when lit could cling to a person for a long time, forming a scent marker invisible and undetectable to humans but followed by a particular type of nocturnal insect.

Python had timed it perfectly, lighting the cigar just before the meeting started, waiting for the smoke to fill the room. Everyone who entered would be marked. Once the meeting ended, he would release the insects and track the marked individuals by the direction the bugs flew. The insects were also specially treated, glowing visibly under night vision goggles.

Python had thought of everything, knowing Mixologist's supernatural ability was a hindrance to any high-tech tracking devices.

But the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

The cigar had just been lit when Argentum doused it with water, extinguishing Python's hope and his plan.

Madame Riches and Argentum had been marked with just a trace of the scent. After Python reported the meeting content to his contact, the contact offered a high price to have him shoot Madame Riches.

Python set the insects free, estimated the route, went to the bar, found a few scapegoats, and implanted them with parasitic exotic species, thinking he had covered all bases.

But the assassination failed utterly.

"I don't want to take risks anymore," Python said.

"Don't you want to take risks? Then what do you want to do? You're in deep now. Do you want to continue being controlled by Mechanism Dawn, getting brainwashed by them?" the person on the other end of the communicator said. "Listen to me, lay low, wait for the right moment, and I can let you be yourself again. Your name isn't 'Python'; you haven't used your real name in so long, haven't you forgotten it?"

Python fell silent.

"If you feel it's too dangerous, you can hold off on acting for the time being. Just focus on passing on information," the person on the communicator softened their tone. "Madame Riches' existence is a threat to us, so I was eager to deal with it. I didn't properly estimate Madame Riches and Argentum's strength, leading to the mission's failure. I share the responsibility; it was my mistake."

Python was still hesitant. "But I..."

"Another five million," the voice on the communicator said calmly. "When you're done, you can take the money and go wherever you want."

"It's not about the money; you don't understand," Python replied.

The person on the other end thought for a moment. "Add a vial of divine blood."

Python was stunned.

"Your talent has reached its peak; as an awakened being, this is as far as you go. You'll be stuck at C-level for life, unable to reach higher levels," the person coaxed. "When you see no hope on the path of the awakened, you can choose another path and start over... You know what that path is."

"An Exotic!" Python's eyes widened.

"Yes. Take the divine blood, become an Exotic, and you can be stronger," the person said. "If you're strong enough, Mechanism Dawn can't touch you."

"I've heard Exotics can mutate into monsters..."

"The divine blood is much safer after dilution and filtration, reducing the chances of mutation. You can't avoid taking risks."

Python was silent for a long time. "Alright, I'll continue being an undercover agent. Like you said, I'll only pass on information, nothing else. Don't expect me to kill for you anymore."

"That's fine," the person said tolerantly. "You need to tell me more about Madame Riches. Height, physical characteristics, voice—give me as much detail as possible."

Python thought for a moment. "Madame Riches uses a voice changer, so the real voice is unknown. Height is estimated to be around 1.75 meters, and gender is also unclear..."

"Gender unclear?" the person was taken aback.

"The code name 'Madame Riches' has an obvious gender implication, but it might be a smokescreen. Madame Riches' real identity could be a man. Look at the height, 1.75 meters could be male or female. What if Madame Riches is wearing a fake chest for disguise? There are a lot of crazies in Mechanism Dawn, and most of them have quirks, like Red—he has some strange hobbies," Python explained cautiously. "From my experience, even if the code name 'Madame Riches' sounds feminine, you can't take this person for a woman! Height can be faked with insoles or hollowed-out shoe soles. What if Madame Riches' supernatural ability is related to disguise? Then what?"

"Your information is as good as none; I can't lock onto the target," the person said.

"When you're undercover, you can't help but overthink," Python said nervously.

"Did you always think so much, or did Madame Riches scare you into overthinking tonight?" the person sneered.

Python was about to argue when he saw his wrist device flashing. Thornrose had sent a message.

"I have to go, my teammate is calling," Python turned off the communicator and opened the wrist device, speaking in his usual loud voice, "Hey, Boss Lady!"

"Are you done with your snack? If so, get over here and work," Thornrose's voice was icy cold.

"Yes, yes, I'm on my way! I'll be there in five minutes, Boss Lady, you take it easy!" Python replied obsequiously.

After ending the call, Python patted his chubby face, straightened his back, and instantly regained his lively vigor, like a rooster ready to crow.

He left his spot, hopped on his motorcycle, and sped off to find Thornrose.

...

"This room's not bad," Argentum remarked, looking around.

Cyrus opened a closet and found it filled with a variety of clothes, from hip-hop outfits to suits, a complete arsenal for any disguise. Makeup products were also plentiful, probably for members of the organization to use for disguises.

She pulled out some clothes and knocked on the bottom of the closet, which sounded hollow. Lifting it, she discovered a hidden passage that Red said led directly to the city's complex sewer system, an escape route.

They had returned to the Ruby Bar, this time on basement level three, in a safe house meant for organization members to rest and heal.

Argentum tore open a can of fruit and sat cross-legged on the floor to eat.

The emergency food in the safe house was all canned, with medicine and weapons supplies stored separately in boxes. Behind a painting on the wall was a safe containing gold bars. In the second world, it was a cashless society, but gold, as a precious metal, was still in circulation and a hard currency in the black market.

"How are you going to work tomorrow morning?" Argentum asked.

"Through the secret passage," Cyrus replied, studying the sewer lines on the map.

She glanced at the time; it was three in the morning.

If she kept up this pace of day and night shifts, she'd end up dead from exhaustion.

"Where am I supposed to sleep?" Argentum asked.

"On the floor?" Cyrus suggested.

Argentum didn't protest; he was used to sleeping on the sofa at Cyrus's place and never expected to sleep in a bed.

After finishing the canned fruit, Argentum spread out a blanket on the floor, wrapped himself up, and prepared to sleep.

Cyrus turned off the light and lay in bed.

Of all the people she knew, Argentum was actually the most reliable.

If Cyrus had to choose the person least likely to attempt to kill her from all the attendees at tonight's meeting, it would be Argentum. His supernatural abilities were strong; he could have easily killed her with a flick of his finger. Argentum was, in essence, a straightforward person. He didn't overthink things, which was the main reason Cyrus felt at ease with him.

The second person would be Red. Red knew Cyrus's identity and the tasks she undertook. He knew her home location and her position in the Enforcement Department. It would be simple for him to kill Cyrus.

If Cyrus had to choose the person she found most suspicious... it would be Python.

Because he was too conspicuous, too foolish in his behavior.

Python didn't seem to be feigning stupidity; his actions were natural, without any hint of performance. Yet, Cyrus found him suspicious without any logical reason.

Cyrus analyzed her feelings, trying to pinpoint when she began to harbor ill feelings toward Python.

She recalled her experiences and realized that what bothered her most was Python's smoking.

Cyrus detested the scent of cigar smoke.

Lying in bed, unable to sleep, Argentum whispered, "Why haven't you slept yet?"

"Your breathing is too loud," Cyrus replied.

Argentum: "I'll try to breathe quieter."

After a moment of calm contemplation, Cyrus sent a message to Red: "Keep a close eye on Python; something about him doesn't sit right with me."

Soon after, Red replied: "Understood."

It was nearing four in the morning; she had to sleep.

Cyrus needed to prepare for new challenges tomorrow—she had to undergo a conversion interview under the scrutiny and questioning of the various department heads at the Enforcement Department.