Lynn stepped forward, his foot snapping out to deliver a few more quick, expertly placed kicks to the fallen gangsters. Each strike was precise, targeting vital points that would keep them incapacitated without causing fatal injuries.
With the Special Investigation Bureau crawling all over the outer district, he chose not to eliminate them. Leaving a trail of bodies would only attract the wrong kind of attention and risk escalating the situation beyond his control.
"If you dare to cause this girl trouble in the future, I will hunt you down, no matter where you try to hide," he coldly uttered. The defeated thugs could only whimper in response, their courage long gone.
Turning to Izzy, he gestured for her to follow. "We cannot stay here any longer," he declared, his tone softening slightly. The poor girl had endured enough trauma, and he had no intention of abandoning her.
As they made their way through the dimly lit alleys, she stuck close to him, steps quickening to match his pace. The fear still clung to her, but there was also a flicker of relief and gratitude in her eyes.
"T-thank you, Doctor," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you had not shown up, I can’t imagine what might have happened." Lynn glanced at her briefly, feeling empathy for her plight.
"You do not need to thank me," he reassuringly replied with a subtle nod, noticing how her grip on his sleeve squeezed with each step. "I simply did what was necessary. Your safety is what matters now."
"But why were you out so late today, all alone?" he continued, unable to shake the confusion that had been nagging his mind. "Haven't you heard? The streets are dangerous at night, especially with everything happening lately."
Her gaze dropped, nervously fidgeting in shame as she struggled to find the right words. "I-I am sorry," she stuttered again, suppressing a sob. "I did not mean to cause you any trouble. I just... I could not…”
Observing her distress, he furrowed a little bit. The shadows cast by the flickering lights seemed to mirror the turmoil in her heart. He stopped, allowing her a moment to collect herself. “Take your time. There is no rush.”
With a deep, shuddering breath, Izzy recounted the events that had led her to her condition. "The authorities have been cracking down hard. They have set up checkpoints and patrols all over the place."
"Yesterday, they even started displacing people from their homes, saying it is for our safety and security, but..." Her voice trailed off, uncertainty creeping into her tone as a flicker of worry crossed her face.
Intently listening, his brain quickly pieced together the implications. For the inhabitants of this lawless territory, the sudden involvement of law enforcement likely signaled an operation to uproot the abandoned district.
Although the true motive behind this intervention was to deal with the werewolf apparitions, the consequences for the residents were the same. "They are preparing for a major action," he confirmed without giving more details.
She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Yes, that is what I heard too. The soldiers created a refuge inside the central district, and I went there," she paused, her grasp tightening. "However, I could not find my father."
"Last night, he went out to do something, and he has not returned since," she finally revealed the real reason behind her dangerous venture. "I have searched everywhere, but no one has seen him."
His expression softened further as he watched the young woman struggle to hold back her emotions, understanding the urgency of her situation. "So you sneaked out to search for him," he concluded, his tone gentle yet firm.
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Izzy nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know it was reckless, but I could not just sit there and do nothing," she whispered anxiously. "I have to find him, Doctor Lynn. I cannot lose him, not like this."
Suddenly, a series of loud gunshots and piercing whistles shattered the eerie silence that had blanketed the abandoned district. The jarring noise echoed off the desolate structures, immediately setting his senses on high alert.
His pupils contracted as he intently focused his extraordinary perception, homing in on the commotion source. The gunfire was chaotic, punctuated by shouts and the unmistakable sounds of confrontation.
"Are they finally making their moves, or is it just some group of gangsters causing trouble?" Lynn contemplated for a brief instant, glancing at Izzy, whose face paled with fear. His mind raced with possible next steps.
Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed her hand. "Come on, we need to get you to safety," he declared firmly, his tone brooking no argument. Yanking the startled girl behind him, he moved with purpose.
His long strides carried them swiftly through the maze of narrow alleys. The young woman stumbled slightly, struggling to keep up with his pace, but he adjusted his speed to ensure he did not overwhelm her.
Simultaneously, his eyes gleamed in the darkness, activating the shared vision technique. The sounds of confrontations grew louder as he scanned the area, searching for any sign of the authorities he knew must be nearby.
Around a corner, a group of armed forces was spotted, their black uniforms and tactical gear identifying them as members of the Special Investigation Bureau. They were shepherding a small crowd of civilians, their expressions tense as they maintained a steady, defensive perimeter.
Sensing an opportunity, he sped up, pulling Izzy along as he approached the scene. The officers' heads snapped toward them, their weapons raising instinctively to face the unexpected intruders.
He instantly lifted one hand above his head, showing his movements remained non-threatening. "Hold your fire!" shouted a man who appeared to be the leader. “Civilian approach, hold your positions!”
One soldier, a woman with sharp features and a no-nonsense demeanor, stepped forward, her firearm lowered slightly. “What is going on? Are you two safe?” she questioned, cutting through the tension.
“We were looking for someone,” Lynn responded quickly, glancing over his shoulder as the sounds of the conflict intensified. “But when we heard gunfire, we came to find safety. We need to get out of here.”
“Alright,” the woman replied in a steady voice. “We are heading to a secure location. Follow us, but stay in the center of the formation. Things have gotten ugly out there," she instructed, motioning for them to join.
He nodded, gently ushering his companion forward, blending with the escorted civilians. As the adrenaline began to recede, Izzy noticed something, causing her cheeks to flush with a hint of embarrassment.
"My hand," she shyly murmured, her face turning a deeper shade of red. "Ah, my apologies," Lynn reacted rapidly, smoothly releasing her hand. "I did not mean to hold on too tightly, I just wanted to make sure we didn’t get separated in the confusion."
The sudden loss of contact seemed to have caught her off guard, and he could not help but notice a slight disappointment in her face. Yet, he quickly set aside that thought, knowing more urgent matters required his attention.
Thanks to the network of eyes unleashed earlier, he focused on the confrontations. The gunfire had grown more intense, punctuated by the occasional explosion that shook the very foundations of the buildings.
"I was wrong," he mused silently, his brow furrowing. The special investigation bureau was not dealing with the werewolves or pollution monsters he had expected. Instead, its members were embroiled in what seemed to be a war against gangs.
It seemed they were finally making a concerted effort to dismantle the criminal elements that had long ruled these lawless streets. But Lynn still wondered what had prompted this sudden and decisive action.
Had the recent events, the werewolf appearances, pushed them to take drastic measures? Or perhaps the mobs themselves had made a grave error, provoking the ire of the authorities with their reckless actions.
His thoughts churned as he carefully observed the chaotic scenes relayed by the rodents. The abrupt aggression did not add up. The gangs in the abandoned district were more than mere street thugs—they were part of a complex web of power and influence.
The bureau would not take the initiative to offend these factions without a compelling reason, particularly in this volatile environment. "It did not make sense," Lynn calmly pondered, narrowing his gaze as his mind ran through possibilities.
Could their actions be tied to the recent pollution incidents? Was there a connection between the gangs and the werewolves, or were the authorities simply using this as a pretext to clean the house?