Glass Figures

In the early hours, Aiden revisited the dilapidated building where he had stashed his weapons, retrieving the packages he had left behind. Under cover of darkness, he swiftly entered "Sister Margaret's Bar," where, in stark contrast to the quiet streets outside, the place was still buzzing with activity, the party seemingly just hitting its stride.

Aiden settled back into his usual spot at the bar. Wade was gone, probably home cuddling with his girlfriend.

"Hey, friend, glad to see you back. What's with the heavy load you're carrying?" Weasel, the bartender, probed, eyeing Aiden up and down.

"I need a room," Aiden demanded.

Weasel nearly choked on his beer, "This is a bar, not an inn."

Pointing towards a dark corridor, Weasel explained, "See? No rooms, or they wouldn't be getting it on in the hallway. Oh God, it's too dark there, but maybe that's a blessing for that couple—might be sick if they saw each other's faces."

"Private room, storage, kitchen—any place that can house a person," Aiden insisted, slapping a thousand dollars on the bar.

"Oh, haha, that's no issue. We have plenty of private rooms. How many nights you staying? No refunds, though," Weasel said, pocketing the money with a sly hand movement as he counted it in front of Aiden.

"I don't know how long," Aiden replied.

"Oh, buddy, that's not how you land mercenary gigs. Waiting here won't help. Need me to broker some deals for you?" Weasel seemed to have misunderstood Aiden's intentions, but Aiden didn't bother to correct him, simply stating he was too tired and everything could wait until morning. Weasel led Aiden to the basement, a cluttered but serviceable living space.

Aiden wasn't fussy. He dropped his package on the floor with a heavy thud, "You wouldn't want to mess with these, even if one is missing, I'll know."

"Oh my God, you planning to snipe an army?" Weasel realized what was likely in the giant package, judging by the sheer volume of its contents. Aiden surely couldn't use it all by himself.

"If a well-dressed man shows up here, or if anyone is loitering around, let me know," Aiden suddenly remembered something crucial. Weasel was a man easily swayed by money, so this small task shouldn't be an issue. "I'll tip you well."

"Wow, you've already got a target. Just promise me you won't finish the job in the bar. I don't want any trouble; this place is my everything," Weasel hurriedly added.

"I'll wait for your good news," Aiden nodded and showed him out.

With that, Aiden began his stay at Sister Margaret's Bar, not knowing how long it would last, but certain he would remain until a particular person made an appearance.

The man in the suit, Wade's guide, the one offering business cards to the mutant factory.

Aiden needed that factory!

What Aiden hadn't expected was that he would find his target the very next day at noon, or to be precise, the same afternoon he had arrived at the bar. It seemed his thousand-dollar lodging fee had been wasted.

At twelve noon, in the Elbert Hotel, a statuesque and elegant woman stood by the window, watching the busy street below. Car after car pulled into the grand hotel's driveway, none carrying the figure she hoped to see.

Dressed in tailored pants and a crisp white blouse, she exuded an air of professionalism. The sorrow and anxiety of the previous night were gone, replaced by her most captivating side. She had the beauty and charm to make a gang leader go to great lengths to possess her, and now it was fully apparent.

In this ruthless capitalist world, nobody turns down money. Her unique measurements had the hotel staff scouring several streets. The bellhop, though well-tipped, cursed Nicole for not being willing to wait even one more day, insisting on having her clothes by 10 a.m.

It was now a quarter past twelve. Nicole looked up at the clock and sighed deeply. Perhaps her biggest issue was her lack of self-confidence. But that couldn't be helped; her harrowing past had left her heart riddled with wounds, and it was a wonder she had managed to suppress suicidal thoughts at all.

Feeling once again abandoned by the world, the radiant and sensual woman seemed to lose her soul, staring blankly down through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the street, motionless.

And Aiden, he certainly hadn't intended to make Nicole wait. At that moment, he was closing in on the man distributing business cards, seeking mutant test subjects.

This fellow was waiting for Wade today, and Aiden had finally caught up with him.

Aiden unceremoniously tossed him out of the bar, dragging the man into the corridor of an adjacent abandoned building. With his exceptional skills and formidable physical prowess, Aiden easily overpowered the two bodyguards who followed, finishing them off with a couple of extra bullets.

After the trembling man handed over his business card, Aiden confirmed he was indeed the "Agent Smith" he was looking for.

Despite his title, Smith was no match for Aiden. After witnessing Aiden's ruthless efficiency, Smith became as docile as a well-behaved child, answering every question posed to him.

To Aiden's surprise, Smith's boss, a mutant named Ajax, turned out to be the head of the entire mutant factory. There seemed to be no higher authority, much to Aiden's satisfaction.

Ajax, the so-called doctor, was the mind behind the "mutant transformation serum," a man of true talent. He had somehow concocted a potion capable of activating any person's latent mutant gene to its fullest extent—an incredible feat.

After extracting no further useful information, Aiden dealt with Smith permanently. With plans to own the factory in the future, Aiden had no desire to keep someone who knew too much and couldn't keep a secret. Disposing of the bodies quickly, Aiden left the scene.

With his plan accomplished, Aiden returned to the Elbert Hotel with a sense of relief and joy, albeit delayed by traffic. He couldn't exactly fly there in broad daylight.

When Aiden gently knocked on room 0702 and the door swung open, he was met with a sight that pleased him. Nicole was dressed impeccably, exuding confidence and charm. Although her initial mood seemed despondent, as if she had been abandoned, it shifted dramatically upon seeing Aiden. He had never before so clearly understood how a person's eyes could reflect their soul.

In just a few seconds, Nicole seemed to come alive before him, a testament to the creator's marvel and a lament for her fragile spirit, seemingly unable to withstand any storm, as delicate as glass.

Had the night's events, her attempt to kill the drug dealer, truly exhausted all her strength?

Aiden sighed, resigned to the fact that he had to reforge this exquisite "glass goddess sculpture" into something more durable—steel, iron, copper, even cement would do, as long as it wasn't glass.

Tips:

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