The setting sun cast long shadows across the desolate landscape as Wanderer and his lieutenants dismounted at the edge of a cliff. His drone, having completed its scouting run, rested in his hand. Below, nestled in a shallow valley, lay the suspected Jackals' hideout: a cluster of battered trailers surrounded by a dozen all-terrain vehicles. Wanderer surveyed the scene, a thoughtful expression on his face. “science is organized knowledge, wisdom is organized life,, i had no wisdom”

wanderer then look at his lieutenants "I put back my word," Wanderer said to his lieutenants, his voice firm. "If old commander's mission is silly, my behavior is more silly than his."

His lieutenants exchanged glances, some looking confused, others amused by his comment.

"Alright," Wanderer continued, his tone serious. "You know what to do. We will give them pain."

His lieutenants nodded, readying themselves for battle. Their expressions were serious, eager to prove themselves on this mission.

The attack unfolded in a coordinated assault. Dozens of men on foot, led by Oboro, charged the center of the party, while Chrome and Shizuka flanked them from the sides with their a vehicles. its created a trident like movement. Furqan and Wanderer watched from a vantage point, acting as reserves.

The plan was simple yet effective: a coordinated attack to catch the Jackals off guard.

As the signal was given, Chrome's forces opened fire on the trailer park, the sound of gunfire echoing through the air. The Jackals, caught off guard, scrambled to respond, their defenses disorganized. Panic spread among their ranks as Chrome's initial assault sent them reeling. Shizuka's light cars slammed into the rear, adding to the chaos as bullets flew and vehicles collided. while Oboro skillfully shot some Jackals rifles from their hands,

Wanderer observed the unfolding scene through his monitor, his mind racing with strategy. He sent his drone closer to the Jackals, activating its speaker. "Surrender, or we will burn you alive," it blared, the threat resonating through the air. The Jackals looked up, startled and fearful, some attempting to shoot the drone down but failing miserably.

"Stop resisting! We're just acting like the good guys here. Just drop your weapons!"

the Jackals, realizing they were outgunned and outnumbered, dropped his weapon and raised his arms in surrender. Wanderer smile, watching the gang member submit. With a flick of his real time psyche ability, he ordered his mercenaries to cease fire. Moments later, Chrome's comm crackled to life.

"Just waste them, boss. They’re lowlife," Chrome grunted, clearly disappointed with the decision to spare the Jackals.

Wanderer tapped his lips thoughtfully before responding, "No. We're here to send a message to the shopkeeper, not to act as punisher."

Chrome grumbled but complied, signaling the other mercenaries to stop firing. The Jackals, now lined up on their knees with their weapons piled nearby, looked up at their captors. The leader of the group, an old man wearing a red bandana, spoke up, his gaze unwavering. "You make a mistake. This isn't the wasteland where you can just go blazing. There will be consequences."

Wanderer approached him, nodding. "I know that. That's why I spared you. I'm here to do a retaliation job for the dude in the market because you raided his convoy."

The old man nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. "Hmmph, you're not wrong there. We did raid his convoy. We don't like that shopkeeper fella. He's a greedy bastard who tries to muscle in on our turf. So we took what was rightfully ours."

"Good. Now we all accept our sins. Just make sure you don’t make the same mistake again, and we can live happily ever after—in this life and the next," Wanderer replied,

The old man chuckled dryly. "Heh, you're a funny one. You act like you're some kind of judge, dishing out justice and all. But I guess we'll see. Just remember, you spared us, but that doesn't make us friends. We're still enemies, and we'll be watching you. Don't expect any favors from us in the future."

Wanderer nodded, unfazed. "Good, but at least you know who you shouldn't mess with."

The Jackals' leader acknowledged the warning with a nod, a grudging respect evident in his demeanor. "Yeah, you can say that again. We'll remember your faces. Just be careful too. There are worse folks out there than us."

As night fell, Furqan and the other mercenaries gathered in the hangar for their evening prayers. Wanderer, meanwhile, was receiving a massage on his back, his gaze drifting to the green mutant he had recently acquired along with a water purifier. The rest of the mercenaries watched the mutant with fascination.

After Furqan finished his prayers, he approached Wanderer, still being massaged by Shizuka. "So, why do we need a slave all of a sudden?" he asked, curiosity piqued.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Wanderer closed his eyes for a moment, contemplating the question. When he opened them, he replied, "It may lead to our objective." He rose slowly and walked toward the cage where the green mutant was kept. "Do you have a name?" he asked.

Everyone waited in anticipation...... until Chrome broke the silence. "Oh great, you bought mute trash, boss," he joked.

Wanderer remained unfazed and continued, "Can you speak?"

The green mutant nodded, his voice soft. "Yes."

Wanderer studied him for a moment. "Did they not give you a name?"

The mutant shook his head, and Wanderer rubbed his face in thought. "Alright, for now, I name you Pann."

The green mutant, now known as Pann, looked up at Wanderer with uncertainty in his eyes. He didn’t seem quite sure what to make of his new master, but he was willing to listen.

"Okay, Pann. Do you know the rules? What happens when someone buys you?" Wanderer asked, his tone serious.

Pann met Wanderer's gaze, his expression grave. "I belong to you now. You own me. My life is yours to do with as you please."

"Yes, but I don’t need a slave. I will free you... if you’re honest with me."

Pann's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. "You would free me? Thank you. I promise I will be honest with you. Ask me anything you want to know."

Wanderer leaned in, curiosity piqued. "Yes... were you born this way? I mean, with this green skin and fast regeneration?"

Pann nodded, his expression earnest. "Yes, I was born this way. The mutation in my DNA gives me this green skin and fast regeneration. I have always been different from others."

Wanderer pressed further, "Do they... make you like this? Where were you born? Did you see your mama and papa, or were you surrounded by unknown people since you were young?"

Pann's expression turned somber as he recalled his past. "I was born in a place called the laboratory, created by Series 9. I was one of many mutants they experimented on. I never knew my parents, or even who the people working in the lab were. As far as I know, I've been a lab experiment all my life."

Wanderer's eyes lit up with realization. "Wow... bingo." He looked at the others, then back at Pann. "How... and when did they raise you?"

Pann looked down, a mix of sadness and anger on his face. "They raised me in a small, stark cell. I was kept in a cage and treated like a lab rat. They would run experiments on me, poking and prodding me like I wasn’t even a real person. It was a hard and lonely life." He paused, collecting his thoughts. "As for when... I'm not sure exactly how old I am. They never told me, and I've lost track myself. Time passes differently in the lab."

Wanderer asked, "Am I your first master?"

Pann nodded, looking up at Wanderer with gratitude. "Yes, you are the first master I've ever had. I am grateful to you for freeing me and showing me kindness."

Wanderer shook his head. "Hmh... not that fast. We’re not some random heroic dudes doing random things. We have a mission, and our mission is to investigate the Series 9 project."

Pann's expression turned serious. "The Series 9 project? I don't know much about their research, but I can tell you what I saw in the lab. They conducted experiments on mutants, trying to enhance their abilities and create new lifeforms. From what I overheard, their leader—a man named Dr. Nero—was obsessed with the idea of creating the perfect lifeform. He was ruthless in his pursuit of this goal, willing to sacrifice anyone and anything in his quest for success."

Wanderer nodded, processing the information. "Alright... but how did you learn about the world? Did the shopkeeper feed and teach you?"

Pann nodded. "Yes, the shopkeeper and his assistant helped take care of me. They taught me basic things like speaking and reading. They also showed me some of the outside world, which was strange and overwhelming for me, coming from the closed-off world of the lab. They kept me alive and gave me a basic education until I was old enough to fend for myself."

Wanderer chuckled. "Cool... you might even be more educated than the rest of us, haha!"

Pann chuckled softly. "Perhaps I am, who knows? But my knowledge is limited to what I learned from the shopkeeper and his assistant, and what I was able to observe in the lab. If you need specialized knowledge about certain topics, I might not be of much help."

Wanderer’s expression turned serious again. "Hmm. If you speak the truth about Series 9, I will free you. But because we can’t prove it yet... well, you know what happens, right?"

Pann nodded, understanding the implication. "Yes, I understand. If I cannot provide proof of my claims about Series 9, I will remain your slave. But if I do prove my knowledge, then you will free me?"

"Yes," Wanderer confirmed, then opened the lock and swung the cage door open.

Pann stepped out, looking around with a sense of liberation after being locked up for so long. He turned to Wanderer, gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you, master. I will prove my knowledge and earn my freedom."

Wanderer raised a hand. "Yes, and don’t call me master. It reminds me of the bad side of me. Just call me Wanderer."

Pann nodded understandingly. "Alright, Wanderer. I understand. Apologies for making you uncomfortable. I will remember to call you by your name from now on."

Wanderer continued, "What skills do you have besides basic education?"

Pann thought for a moment. "I am good at surviving in harsh environments, like the wasteland. I have fast reflexes, and my green skin is tougher than normal skin. Also, I have the ability to regenerate wounds faster than others. But you already know that, haha."

"Alright. You reflect, guy. I like it. So... how do you even know if you have good reflexes? Did they train you how to fight?" Wanderer asked.

Pann's expression darkened. "I was used for experiments in the lab, so yes, they did train me how to fight. They would pit me against other mutants or robots and analyze how I performed in combat. It was a terrible and dehumanizing experience. But it did give me some combat skills, so I guess it wasn't entirely useless."

Wanderer’s eyes sparkled with interest. "Really? Grunt 77, come here." A muscular man stepped forward from the crowd. Wanderer met Pann's gaze. "Prove it."

Pann looked at the muscular man, then back at Wanderer, understanding the challenge. "Very well, I'll do my best. Do I have to fight unarmed, or am I allowed to use my sword and rifle?"

"Yes, just pure brawl, no dirty moves. No eyes poking, crotch and neck. Ready? Go!" Wanderer commanded.

Pann nodded, taking a fighting stance. When Wanderer gave the signal to start, Pann attacked without hesitation. Their skills matched equally, each anticipating and countering the other's moves. They fought fiercely, neither willing to yield. After a few intense moments, Pann found an opening and landed a knockout blow on grunt 77 gut, leaving the muscular man lying on the ground. Pann stood over him, panting but victorious.

Wanderer’s jaw dropped behind his mask. "That... was fast."

Pann turned to Wanderer, his breathing heavy but his eyes shining with determination. "Is that sufficient proof, Wanderer? I did my best to win according to your rules."

Wanderer nodded. "Yes, but it seems living in that cage for so long has depleted your stamina."

Pann understood the observation. "You're right. The years I spent in the cage and with limited movement have taken their toll on my stamina. But with proper care and training, I can regain my strength over time."

"Good," Wanderer replied. "For now, you will work with us until you prove your freedom."

Grateful for the opportunity, Pann nodded. "Yes, Wanderer. I understand. I will do my utmost to assist and contribute to the group. Thank you for giving me this chance."

Wanderer gestured to Furqan. "This is my lieutenant. He’s the most gentle person around here. He will teach you a few basic things about merc life."

Furqan approached, nodding in agreement. "That's right, Pann. You'll be my responsibility now. You have the fighting skills; we just need to build up your stamina and endurance."

Pann returned the smile, feeling more confident with Furqan as his mentor. "Thank you, Furqan. I'll do my best to learn everything you teach me."