Ch.164

"──The bullets are too valuable to waste."

The second magazine is now empty, and the third one is being loaded into the pistol as the slide locks back. The stopper biting into the slide, which indicates the slide is locked open, is removed to feed ammunition into the chamber.

There are now only three magazines left, including the freshly loaded one. Wondering if bringing a few more would have been better is futile in the current troublesome situation.

Tossing the empty magazine into the pocket of the jacket, holding the pistol in a unique grip, the protagonist peers into the entrance where the rolling door has been fitted.

"──Tsk…"

Right after poking their face out, black-clad individuals with assault rifles aim and pull the trigger, firing bullets. After hiding again, the sound of bullets passing by closely, along with the noise of the wall being scraped from behind, is felt.

Wanting to seize one of the automatic rifles, the hassle of unlocking the fingerprint recognition cannot be ignored.

One pistol against multiple automatic rifles wouldn't even be a fight ── of course, in theory.

The finger seems to be constantly on the trigger, and the gunfire shows no sign of stopping.

──It's about time.

The continuous gunfire that echoed without a break ceases the moment it stops, and Moore exposes half of their body while pointing the pistol towards the main floor.

As expected, the bullets are depleted, and there are black-clad figures trying to replace their magazines.

Boldly, perhaps with confidence, aiming at one of them who is changing the magazine without hiding, a suppressed gunshot rings out.

The second shot follows, hitting the black-clad individual standing next to them. Just as the magazine replacement is complete and they are about to pull the charging handle, the trigger of the pistol is pulled.

Their head is blown apart, and with brain matter, fragments of fine skull, and hair still attached, the skin scatters into the main floor.

Now, the second person is also incapacitated.

The remaining third black-clad, witnessing their comrades being instantly shot dead by gunfire, hides behind a sofa.

Moore steps onto the main floor, holding the pistol in a unique grip.

There are still a few customers left on the floor. Tensed and scared, employees or, perhaps, dressed-up patrons cower, shielded behind the adorned Nike figure.

"W-Who the hell are you...!"

"D-Do you know who I am!? I am from the Central Government──"

It's impressive how confident they are while hiding. The shouting customers reveal their own identities, trying to intimidate him, but just as the black-clad hidden behind the sofa exposes their upper body and aims the gun at Moore, a .45 ACP bullet bursts out from the pistol's barrel, crushing the eyeball and turning the internal brain into mush, splattering the back of the head.

One of the customers, unintentionally showered with the scattered brain matter, screams. With Moore shot in the chest, they casually point the gun at the struggling black-clad on the floor.

Pulling the trigger, they make sure to deliver the finishing blow. The head is blown apart, and it goes limp with a thud.

Only three rounds remain in the magazine and chamber.

"──Miss, where is the manager?"

With vigilance for the surroundings, Moore approached the Nikke figure, used as a shield by the man.

The cheeks of Nikke, clad in a body-hugging dress that emphasized her body lines, are stained with blood, likely splattered when the black-clad individual's head was shot through.

The man takes a handkerchief from his pocket and places it into the glass of poured alcohol on the table of the box seat where he is hiding. He wets the fabric with the alcohol.

"I have business with the manager. I may have been a bit rough... Can you tell me where he is?"

Trying to gently wipe her cheek with the alcohol-soaked handkerchief, as soon as he touches her cheek, the standardized Nikke's shoulders twitch.

"...Ah, sorry. It's stained with blood. Bear with me for a moment."

"...Uh... yes..."

Used to being treated as tools a moment ago, she hesitantly nodded while still confused.

With her consent, he carefully begins wiping the blood off her cheek with the handkerchief, making sure not to cause any harm.

"...As for the manager, do you know where he is?"

Satisfied to some extent after wiping away the blood, he asks again, and the Nikke raises her slender arm, pointing towards the back of the store.

"...Probably... in the manager's office."

"I see. Thank you... Can I borrow that ice pick?"

He points to the ice pick placed next to the ice bucket filled with ice.

With a nod of confusion, Moore thanks once again and picks up the ice pick.

"─Darling. Are you going to catch the manager?"

"─It's my job. ...I wanted it to go a bit more smoothly, though."

A bit more smoothly, does that expression mean something different in Ark?

While looking over the main floor now filled with corpses, Viper casually ponders.

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"Wait! It won't end like this!"

"Which department are you from? A.C.P.U.? Or is it the Central Government Army!?"

It's lively, which is quite something. With the rough shouting from a few customers behind, mixed with fear, hitting the ear, he sighs and removes the suppressor attached to the gun using the wet handkerchief.

"You should know what will happen to me because of this..."

Turning around, he precisely shoots the glass still on the table. It seems to have grazed his cheek. As soon as a faint abrasion is marked on the cheek of the man who seems like a high-ranking official from the Central Government, the glass shatters.

"─Excuse me. It was an accidental discharge. Tonight, I don't know where the bullets will fly, so please be careful."

Playing with words like "accidental discharge" would easily invite a retort. However, whether he inserted an emotionless glass bead or not, the high-ranking official who received the gaze from the unfeeling eyes could only remain silent.

Recognizing the stiffened official, Moore once again advances with the gun in hand.

Were the black-clad individuals guarding the store all the ones from earlier?

In the hallway, a waiter, seemingly futile but possibly trying to protect his head, cowers with a tray covering his head.

While catching that in the corner of his eye, Moore arrived in front of the room where the manager's office plate was struck.

It wasn't a relationship where knocking was necessary.

Signaling Viper to step back a bit, Moore, standing next to the door, turned the doorknob. Instantly, gunshots echoed continuously from inside.

"...Do you have a flashbang?"

"Do you think I have one?"

"...You should have had one before."

"Come on! Darling, you're still talking about the past! Crow's the one had it back then, you know?"

It's not like it was such a long time ago. Shrugging his shoulders at Viper, who pouted, Moore, amidst the gunfire echoing from inside—probably from a pistol—waits quietly.

Breaking the door and infiltrating would be quicker, but without breach charge tape explosives or battering ram siege hammers at hand, that's not an option.

In that case—when the gunfire eventually stops, and at the faint sound of the trigger being pulled several times, Moore kicks the door with a raised leg.

His kick, loaded with his entire weight, is powerful. It's enough to kick open a Rapture.

The door is crushed astonishingly, and the moment he enters the room, the man who seems to be the manager looks surprised.

With the man in shock, Moore borrowed the ice pick he had brought and threw it like a throwing knife into the right hand—the right hand holding the pistol.

Unable to bear the sharp pain brought by the ice pick piercing into his upper arm as if sucked in, the man drops the pistol.

Not wanting him to escape and as an extra measure, Moore, with the gun aimed at the man's left ankle, immediately pulls the trigger.

Penetrating flesh and skin, shattering ankle bones and joints, and tearing ligaments, it seems.

With an inhuman scream, the man collapses to the floor, writhing and suffering while holding his left leg.

"...Are you okay?"

"...He won't die immediately."

There's one round left in the chamber. Pulling out the empty magazine, and slamming in a new one, Moore walks towards the manager, gun aimed. He throws the belt that the man wrapped around his waist onto the floor in front of him.

"Stop the bleeding. If you don't tie it tightly, the bleeding won't stop."

The manager's left ankle is wobbly. Perhaps because it was shot through with a .45 caliber bullet, it looks like it's only connected to the shinbone by flesh, skin, and some bones.

With teary eyes and heavy breathing, the man, with a desperate expression, grabs the belt, wraps it around his leg, and tries to stop the bleeding.

"─Are you going to arrest him?"

"That's a matter of course. We also need to secure the customer list.──Tell me the password."

"P-Please spare my life...!"

"...I won't say it twice."

When the gun muzzle deliberately presses against the man's temple, the manager must have felt the heat of the discharged gunshot remaining on the muzzle, and a cold sweat bursts out.

Despite having his left ankle shattered and an ice pick still embedded in his right arm, the pain seemed to recede as he requested, and he reluctantly revealed the desktop's password.

With only a brief expression of gratitude, Moore turned away and approached the desktop on the table. He powered up the system, typing in the password as the keyboard clacked, and the home screen appeared on the LCD screen.

He clicked on the files, revealing a perfectly organized customer list.

"Hey, darling. Can't we keep this manager, darling and I? Just a suggestion, you know?"

"...Keep?"

Viper, who had approached him manipulating the desktop, suddenly made the proposal.

"Yeah. This manager is quite experienced even here, so he could be useful for various things. For example... searching for information on other underworld organizations, or getting information about the Nikkephilia Club that might exist elsewhere. So, what do you think about darling and me keeping him?"

"...Judicial deal?"

"It's not that big a deal."

Viper smiled. A smile that seemed to conceal unknown thoughts.

Moore, with narrowed, wary eyes and lips twisted enticingly, inadvertently grabbed the gun on the table.

"D-darling, don't make such a scary face? It's just a pro-p-o-s-a-l, you know~~?"

However, Viper, without showing any hesitation, gently wrapped both arms around his waist, pressing her ample chest firmly against his body.

Looking down on Moore, who had taken on a sharp, narrowed gaze, she—whether she thought of something or not—suddenly stood on tiptoe, stretching herself and lightly pressing her lip-gloss-adorned lips against his somewhat dry ones.

"...How defenseless~~~♡"

With a mischievous smile, Viper released her slender hands from around his waist and distanced herself from Moore.

"That was a thank-you for accompanying me on the date~~♡ Did you feel excited?"

"...In a different sense."

While he was not stingy in continuing previous "episodes," he couldn't deny that he was caught off guard.

Perhaps there was still a faint taste of gloss on his lips. He lightly licked his lips to remove the gloss.

Once again, she flashed a bewitching smile, feeling around the back of the desktop, and pressed a hidden button she found.

As a result, the closet in the room began sliding sideways, revealing a hidden passage.

"Well then, shall we go soon?"

Waving her hand lightly, she took a step forward.

After glancing at Viper's back as she headed towards the hidden passage with light footsteps, Moore turned his gaze back to the desktop screen and spoke.

"Yeah. ...Take care."

"──"

Suddenly, her steps came to a halt.

──Too kind-hearted──

Despite being deceived and nearly killed on a previous mission, he was a real softy.

The sweetness was so overwhelming that he couldn't help but feel a painful ache in his chest.

"...Hey, darling. Next time we meet..."

"The timing, place, and situation may vary... but next time will undoubtedly be a showdown. I have that feeling."

"...Yeah, it might be. I'm sure it will be."

The date was──enjoyable. There was no doubt about that.

There were about five minutes left in today, but it was already time.

It's no good to stay together any longer. Like a fairy tale, she must escape from the castle before the spell is lifted.

Reluctantly holding onto a feeling that seemed uncharacteristic of her, Viper pulled out her mobile device.

Her slender fingers moved quickly across the touchscreen, and eventually, she tapped the send button.

"Hmm?"

Suddenly, Moore felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his mobile device to check the incoming call.

"This is the real thank you for today. See you, darling. Stay well until we meet again. Goodbye."

With a slight twist of her hips, she turned back to Moore and waved her hand lightly.

Without giving it a glance, he felt her departing footsteps. He opened the file attached to the message just sent by Viper on his mobile device and began reading its contents.

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"Damn it~~~... that....Nikke...flirttTTT~~~...!"

"Anis... drinking too much..."

"I don't want to be sober after knowing that shit!!! Rapi, join us!"

"I'm not good with alcohol."

Why doesn't she drink in her own room?

An unexpected partner who had made herself comfortable without permission in Rapi's not-so-spacious room was sitting on the bed, drinking a canned beer intended for Nikke, raising her voice and hiccupping.

The reason for the tumult so far can be roughly guessed, but Rapi couldn't help but sigh. She sighed and opened a small pouch that she had placed on the desk.

Taking off her beret and placing it on the desk, she took out a cleansing sheet from the pouch.

Wiping off the vivid eyeshadow that adorned the outer corners of her eyelids, she checked herself in the hand mirror. Once she finished using the sheet, she threw it into the trash bin.

"Hey~! Just one glass is fine! Keep me company~!"

No matter how many times she said she wasn't good with alcohol...

If she wanted someone to accompany her, the commander, who was also her superior officer, would have done it any time after returning home. While Rapi was thinking this, the mobile device she had stored in her jacket pocket vibrated.

It was not a message notification.

She sensed that it was a phone call or video call and took out her mobile device.

The caller was──Moore.

"Yes, this is Rapi. Commander, is there something you need?"

When she swiped to answer the call, the screen showed Moore in a black suit.

──Behind him, something red that seemed like a pool of blood could be seen, causing Rapi's cheek to twitch for a moment.

〈──Ah, Rapi. Sorry for bothering you at this hour... Were you about to sleep?〉

"No, I'm still──"

"──Comman~der~!?"

Anise, who was supposed to be sitting on the bed drinking beer, suddenly peeked her face from Rap's shoulder. She looked at the mobile device in Rapi's hand with hazel eyes that had nestled there, holding onto it.

She didn't know how many cans of beer she emptied, but the smell of alcohol was overpowering. Resting her chin on Rapi's shoulder, Anis, in her drunken state, unintentionally furrowed her brows.

"─Where are you~? What are you doing~?"

〈─I was doing a little job in the Outer Rim. Well, it's already done...〉

"...Outer Rim, you say?"

"─Hmm? ...Were you on a date with someone on the Royal Road~?"

〈─...How do you know that?〉

On the LCD screen, Moore was seen holding a cigarette, lighting it with an oil lighter. Perplexed, he had deep vertical wrinkles on his forehead.

"─Tetra's group chat~~"

〈─Ah...〉

He seemed to accept Anis' drunken words easily. A sigh accompanied a puff of purple smoke.

"...So~? What kind of girl were you on a date with~? Cute~? Cool~?"

〈─If I had to say, she was like a snake... Well, putting that aside... let's get to the main point.〉

Whether he dropped the ashes of the cigarette or not, Moore shifted his gaze away from Rapi and Anis, and for a moment, dark brown eyes were directed at his hands. Then, the cigarette was put back in his mouth.

〈─How many vacant rooms are there in the dormitory?〉

"...Rooms? ...About ten."

〈─Some of them might have to be shared...〉

Asked about the vacancy of the dormitory rooms, Rapi answered while inwardly tilting her head. He seemed to ponder a bit, and as the purple smoke lingered, he casually glanced to the side.

"...Is there something wrong?"

〈─...Ah, well...〉

"Yes."

His cheek-tapping fingers felt dry and rough. With a bit of difficulty in speaking, Moore's brow slightly lowered. The LCD screen suddenly flickered.

Wondering if something had happened, Rapi momentarily tensed, but the screen returned to normal.

At the same time, on the LCD screen──

〈─Twelve were assigned to the forward base. They'll be back by tomorrow noon. Sorry, but... can you handle the preparations?〉

Dressed in dresses and adorned,the mass-produced Nikkes, a total of twelve. While they stood aimlessly on the screen, a voice that unintentionally conveyed Moore's troubled state resonated.

Suddenly, Rapi noticed a sense of incongruity.

The chin of Anis, resting on her shoulder, was vibrating as if trembling or shaking.

"─Wh-what... Wh...!!"

〈...Wh?〉

The tremor was likely caused by astonishment, anger, and various other emotions. Sensing this, Rapi quickly covered her ears with both hands, trying to minimize the damage.

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"─WHY THE HELL ARE YOU CREATING A HAREM?! IDIOT COMMANDERRRR!!!!!!!!!!"

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The scream echoed through the late-night dormitory, more than enough to wake up the personnel in an instant.