( Layne’s POV )
I looked away from the crash site and onto the rooftop where Marie was previously positioned. She should be relocating to get a better view of the main street and avoid any form of retaliation.
I honestly expected the occupants of the carriage to jump off. You know? Common sense and all that.
Well, unless the occupants had enough battle experience to know that if they jumped out, they’d be dead by the time they reached the pavement.
Common sense was a good way to get yourself cemeteried.
I had no intention of killing them, of course. I mean, we were hired to rescue them. But they didn’t jump out. I reckon they were shaking in their boots, too terrified to get out in time.
*sigh*
The mawaki were cowardly scum. I could see they were about to retreat when the carriage got closer to the Cherry Blossom Dojo, and we couldn’t have that.
The horses seemed to have a mind of their own, and they probably did. I wasn’t putting it past Extractors doing that.
So I decided to give the bastards a helping hand and had Marie take out one horse, spooking the rest and, sadly, giving away her position.
I finished my climb onto one of the billboards overrun by climbing plants that overlooked the streets. From here, I had a better view of both the store’s back exit and one of the side streets just by panning my rifle scope.
It wasn’t the one the horses would have used to head towards the dojo. No, what I needed now was to keep an eye out for the routes the Mawaki would use to escape with the target.
As I lay prone, hidden in the undergrowth, the back door slammed open and the target, guided by her companion, ran out.
The man was probably her bodyguard.
The lousiest bodyguard if I had ever seen one. He didn’t check the corners, and with how fast they were moving, it was obvious he wasn’t on the lookout for their assailants either.
He wasn’t even using the shortest path to the dojo.
But this was good. It meant that it was only a matter of time before the Mawaki caught up to them.
*Sigh* Relax and enjoy the…
I suddenly held my breath and my spine stiffened when I saw the bodyguard abruptly pull the target aside and then followed it up with twin knee strikes where she had just been. The first knee strike smashed into the midsection of something that suddenly came into my field of view.
It was like it had always been there, I just hadn’t paid it any attention. The next knee strike got the figure in the face, knocking him out.
How could I have not seen him?
Tsk. Stupid question.
Mawaki were Extractors! If the man had succeeded in his ambush, I would have lost the target because of that stupid ability that made my brain filter him out of my field of vision and failed the gig.
Heads would have rolled tonight if that happened. The Valentinos’ body count was second only to the Mawaki, and they did not take kindly to upstarts that begged for gigs only to botch them up.
I tensed and started paying more attention.
It had been roughly eight minutes, and the target was still running around the streets. Hiding in all the right places, and the Mawaki slipping past them like blind moles on rooftops.
Irritated, I started looking for the Mawaki through my scope to figure out their distribution, and it wasn’t long before I spotted them. They were in every street leading up to the dojo, yet somehow the target kept slipping past them.
My jaw clenched.
The target made random turns that just so happened to have not a single Mawaki on them.
Luck.
The bastard was on the Destiny pathway.
I was furious. I refused to lose my team because of some bastard that kept getting lucky. That was no different from flushing tens of Rubies down the drain.
I raised my rifle and aimed for the target’s leg. It was pointless aiming at the bodyguard who might trip and fall, escaping a bullet to the skull.
Just as I pulled the trigger, the target was pulled out of the way again, and the bullet struck cobblestone. I furrowed my brows.
Luck was supposed to only work on the Extractor—or at least I think so? Well, that’s what my connections told me.—
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Tsk. Bad intel.
I looked through the scope to find them and try again, but that’s when our eyes met, and a chill went down my spine. The man wasn’t running anymore, and I was certain he was looking at me. Those cold eyes that promised debts owed would be paid in full. I turned my scope away to find the damn Mawaki, but the bastards had bolted.
Damn! I screwed up.
They must have thought it was the Gracie family and ran.
Thinking about the Gracie family, I felt my hair stand on end. How far from the dojo were they? The gunshot must have sounded really close to them this time.
I turned just in time to see every street leading to the dojo filling with the honor-spouting bastards armed with blades, bows, and arrows. The target was already being escorted to the dojo by the time I panned my scope back to them.
——
( Zeraki’s POV )
“How are you holding up?” Zeraki asked Hadiza, who was seated on a tatami mat —Number 4 almost had an aneurysm when Number 3 called it a butt-pillow—.
Her back was against one of the walls of the archery range, her left hand in a sling and her right hand holding a cup of tea.
Zeraki had used the Gracie family to send a letter to Ola —for a price. Him walking out with only one guard was asking to get shot.
“I’m… actually holding up pretty good, big man,” she gave him a warm smile, “or as Ola would put it, ‘I have not brought shame upon my father’s house, dying on another man’s land’.”
Zeraki chuckled. That actually sounded like something Ola would say.
“Come, sit. Looking up to you is not something I want to do, but you are making it difficult not to. Literally and figuratively.” Hadiza said.
Zeraki sat next to her and looked at the handful of people practicing their archery.
It wasn’t all about hitting the tiny red spot, apparently. The extra steps, which they referred to as ‘correct form,’ were a form of meditation. Their goal was to ‘associate, bond, and be at peace with others while maintaining serenity at all times.’
He’d left Hadiza listening to the rest of the speech and went to write a letter to Ola.
Whatever wisdom was in Kyudo had gone way over his head.
“Thank you,” Hadiza said after the silence between them had stretched for a while, “I trusted you, and you didn’t let me down. Thank you.”
Her gratitude radiated not just from her words but also from her sentiments. Especially the promise she had with Number 4. The dark mass of a sentiment that was in a tug of war with Number 4’s promise faded, and only the promise remained.
Zeraki felt the point in his mind emit a steady stream of red light. Other than the glow, the point of light did nothing worth mentioning. It still continued with its faint vibration, no different from the other points. He shrugged and lightly bumped his fist on her head since she had no free hand.
“This makes us chooms, right?” she asked.
“What’s that?”
“Close friends.”
Zeraki raised an eyebrow. “You just noticed?”
“You put cabbage with horse breath in my hair!”
“And you made a cabbage torpedo. What’s your point?”
Hadiza looked scandalized, “You had it coming!”
“That’s why I called it a torpedo.” Zeraki scoffed with a smile without looking at her.
“Wait, what’s a torpedo?”
[ Number 7: Huh… looks like those haven’t been invented yet. ]
“…ask me when you get older.” Zeraki said after failing to find an easy way to explain the joke.
“I’m 17, you oak tree! And what are you going to do about missing work this afternoon? I doubt anything short of a bullet to the spine would count as a medical emergency in this place.”
“I actually made up my mind to quit working at the library.”
“When did this happen?”
“When that sniper tried to take you out.” There was a finality in his tone that gave Hadiza goosebumps.
“Oh…uhm, well don’t worry, big man. I’m not into snipers anyway.”
It took a minute for Zeraki to understand what she meant and chuckled once the double entendre joke sank in.
Hadiza basked in her victory at dispelling the frostiness in Zeraki’s eyes as he undoubtedly had unholy thoughts.
She put her cup down and cradled her injured arm while saying, “Slow on the uptake, you oak tree.” She smiled. “Now I just need to figure out what sort of mess I’ve gotten myself involved with.”
“Choom,” Zeraki simply stated.
She scoffed. “Correction, we need to figure out what sort of mess I’ve gotten myself involved with.”
—
“Ah, wonderful. Not even being shot at puts down my council. It hasn’t been long since you graced me with your presence, my Friend, but it gladdens my heart to see you safe nonetheless.” Ola walked up to them, and they stood to meet her. Ola reached out and embraced Zeraki, then turned to Hadiza and spent time looking her over like an overprotective mother.
“Come, dear. They have spat in the face of a tyrant. Axes shall fall at first light,” Ola stated matter-of-factly after examining her.
Zeraki smiled.
He too had plans—plans that made the mass in his heart thrum. It excited him by fueling fury throughout his system. There were two snipers and the Mawaki; he was certain he would take pleasure in putting them down.
He suddenly felt warm hands cup his cheeks. Then he noticed Ola was standing in front of him, looking into his eyes. “Careful not to develop a taste for blood, licking your own wounds, my friend. You too are coming with me.” Her tone masked nothing of the affection and firmness her words carried.
Zeraki reflected on her words as they left, escorted by a small infantry guard. He realized that this new emotion was just as sinister as guilt, even if it felt strangely good to revel in it.
[Number 7: Well, that’s Wrath for you, father. It makes you feel good thinking about the many ways you can cause suffering to your object of hatred.]
[Number 3: Yes, like hanging them upside down over a bucket of snails and slugs and putting caterpillars in their underwear!] she trembled at the thought, yet a manic excitement was in her eyes.
She still remembered the terror she felt catching a glint on the billboard overrun with plants and decided to check on it, only to realize that it was a second sniper panning his scope all over the place.
[Number 7: See, father, that’s the worst kind of suffering cotton candy brain over here can conceive. You and I are probably thinking murder. But that’s off the table because there might be mortals among them.]
[Number 4: Not necessarily.] he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, [I believe the intel said ‘active’ murder or something. Scheming and plotting should still be on the table.]
—
They got to Ola’s house without incident, and she led them both to her office.
A large desk was set up close to the dark navy blue walls facing the door. A coffee table was at the center of the room on top of a rectangular maroon fur carpet that spanned an area; wide enough to accommodate a three-person navy blue sofa set to the left, and a navy blue cushioned armchair, directly across from the large desk.
A map of Astrohelm with pins stuck in it was hung on the wall to the left, behind the sofa set.
Ola went and took her position behind her desk, Hadiza plopped on the sofa, legs dangling on the side, which left Zeraki the armchair. The carpet admittedly felt nice to caress with his feet. A pleasure Number 3 sorely wanted to enjoy.
“What happened?” Ola asked after everyone got comfortable.