Ch.163

"──Did you enjoy yourself?"

"──Yeah, a lot ~~♡"

After Moore and Viper finished their date in Ark City, the gate leading to the Outer Rim, where automated warnings from their vehicles were sounding, opened. They walked in with their arms crossed.

"...I'm glad then."

Although Viper seemed to be in a good mood, his voice lacked energy, indicating he was quite tired.

He probably didn't know that a date could be such a thoughtful act. Generally speaking, it is a lighthearted way to deepen mutual friendship and understanding, without the need to be on guard and escort each other.

About 10 minutes into their walk side by side, Viper pointed to a certain tavern.

Apparently, this is where the entrance to the secret club is.

"...It looks like an ordinary bar on the surface. Well, they probably have a shotgun hidden under the counter."

"Oh...Darling, have you been here before?"

"...I meant it as a joke though..."

Moore, who was sitting on a stool at the bar counter, made a casual remark, but Viper nodded in agreement, causing Moore to sigh unintentionally.

Nevertheless, coming to a bar and not ordering anything would be a breach of etiquette.

"...Can you...drink alcohol?"

"Huh? Yeah."

"I see. ──A WOLF KILLER on the rocks, no chaser. And... if you can make it, a White Lady for her."

Ordering from the master who was polishing glasses with an unsociable expression surprisingly got a nod.

While observing the efficient preparation of the drinks for him and her in front of them, Moore took out a soft pack. He bit one, lit the oil lighter, and exhaled purple smoke towards the ceiling.

Then, in a nonchalant manner, or not so much, Viper, sitting next to him, handed an ashtray to him.

"──Thank you."

After Moore politely thanked her, the drinks they ordered arrived with different colors in front of them.

In a transparent glass filled with amber-colored alcoholic fragrance with floating ice, Moore, who placed the half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, grabbed the glass with one hand and took a sip. On the other hand, Viper, sitting beside him, picked up the cocktail glass with slender fingers.

"Why did you choose a White Lady?"

"...No particular reason..."

Viper asked him about the reason for choosing this cocktail, but Moore, with a seemingly indifferent expression, had no specific reason; he just ordered it on a whim.

Even if asked for an answer, he shrugged his shoulders, seeming to imply that he didn't know. It's not a cocktail he dislikes. She, appreciating the gesture, imitated Moore, who was sitting next to her, and brought her lips to the edge of the glass.

"...Yeah. It's delicious."

"As long as it suits your taste."

Purple smoke lingers nearby. Setting aside Crow's smokeless tobacco, the scent of the secondhand smoke scattered haphazardly is not unbearable, but for Viper, who can't confidently say it's acceptable either, it's a strange thing.

She's felt this scent before, but for some reason, it feels pleasant.

Casually, she leans her body. With a slight impact, Viper's head rests on his shoulder.

"...Darling, do you always do... these kind of things?"

"...These kind of things?... I don't remember much. Being assigned such missions is rare."

─ I didn't mean it that way though...

What Viper is asking is whether he usually accompanies women or Nikke and acts in ways that would make them happy.

However, the answer to this is clear. He is a natural-born flirt. A rather troublesome type of person.

Watching the tobacco pinched in his right hand lightly tap the edge of the ashtray, Viper nonchalantly directs her hand toward his knuckles and gently overlays it.

"...Darling's hands... are big, huh."

"Is that so?"

The roughness of his hands indicates neglect of care. Conversely, the hand overlaid by Viper seems to have a smooth texture, perhaps due to meticulous care.

"...Your hands are quite small. And beautiful."

"...Do you not like it?"

"No, taking care of one's body is necessary. Thorough care is admirable."

─ Whether he meant it from a perspective of seeing her as a woman, or as Nikke, ready to pull the trigger, is unclear.

Viper decided to leave the true meaning of his words aside for now. If she paid too much attention, it would be too much for her to handle – her genuine feelings, without her even realizing it.

"...Even though you're already busy fighting Rapture, you have to help Nikke too... But is it something you wished for, Darling?"

"...Who knows."

While leaning her head on his shoulder, Viper asked in a voice that only reached him. It took Moore a moment to respond to that question.

A light, crisp sound of ice touching the glass resonated. Rubbing her head against his shoulder, she gently looked up at Moore's profile.

─ She felt he had a well-proportioned face. Although the constant furrow between his eyebrows was a bit unappealing, it was undoubtedly one of his charms.

"...I thought about not showing you this, considering your charm, but..."

In consideration of that charm and as part of the compensation for the daytime date, Viper took out her mobile device. After authentication and unlocking, she revealed it.

Thin fingers tap the screen, scrolling──soon the contents displayed on the liquid crystal screen are shown to Moore beside her.

"....Things that can happen inside the club?"

"Yeah, that's right. ──The manager of this club is a severe Nikkephile."

"...It might be quicker to write things that won't happen."

She taps the items under the usage fee.

Rental, coupling services, and various other listings appeared in his view, causing deep vertical wrinkles to appear on his forehead.

"...At this rate, the manager probably has quite a number of Nikke bought for personal use."

"True."

Good at reading the situation, Viper is helpful. After putting away her mobile device, she glanced at his profile again. The vertical wrinkles on his forehead seem unlikely to disappear.

"──Ah, Darling, it's time."

The emergency exit's guiding light hidden at the entrance of the club is illuminated.

It's time. Reluctantly pulling herself away from the shoulder she had leaned on, he grabbed the glass and downed the strong alcoholic drink in one go. He must not forget to crush the half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray. Taking out a faux leather wallet, he neatly placed bills for the seat and the drinks on the table.

Standing up from the seat, adjusting his attire and tie, Moore stood before Viper and the closed door of the emergency exit.

"Hey, Darling. What do we do?"

"What do you mean?"

There are guards on the other side of the door protecting the establishment. Without presenting identification, entering the club would be difficult.

"...Fake IDs?"

"Do you think I have them?"

He only possesses the one officially issued by the central government. It's not a problem, but if an inquiry were to be made, it could lead to a troublesome situation.

To Viper, who is concerned about this, he casually shrugged his shoulders.

──No problem.

---

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"──I said it's not a problem, right?"

"──Ah... yeah... well... I guess that's true if it's you, Darling..."

Looking down at the guard, who concealed his robust physique under the suit, clutching his throat, bending his knees, and letting out strained gasps, Moore calmly took out a silenced pistol. He attached the cylindrical silencer to the gun barrel.

Screwing the silencer tightly onto the threaded gun barrel, he eventually finished attaching it.

The guard, whose throat was crushed by the punch, was suffering from difficulty breathing, immobilized. Overwhelmed by pain, tears welled up in the guard's eyes as he looked up at him. Immediately after that, a knee struck his nose, ruthlessly shaking his brain.

"This should keep you from entering the club."

"...Ah, yeah."

While Viper is accustomed to intense negotiations, she probably didn't expect him to imitate crushing someone's throat as a casual greeting. She seemed somewhat stunned.

The guard, who rolled onto his back in the aisle, is probably not dead. Most likely. However, there was a high probability of facial bone fractures when the knee collided with his face.

"...Darling, you're... quite intense?"

"I don't know... it depends on your perspective."

Holstering the pistol to his left side, hiding it securely with his jacket.

Having just entered the emergency exit, he locked it and then turned off the switch that was likely lighting up the guiding light. Now, no one from the outside could enter.

Following him as he started to move, straddling the fallen guard in the aisle, Viper passed through while staying close to the side.

As soon as she reached Moore's side, his thick left arm entwined around her slender waist, pulling her close with strength.

"─Ugh!... Rough... already..."

"...Did you want it gentle? I apologize for that."

"Well, yeah, but..."

Certainly, she was taken aback by the sudden action. However, entering this club, she needed to perform the role of a commander who treats Nicke as a tool.

Even though it was acting, the question of whether she could behave according to the situation had been answered. As Viper's candid impression, it could be said that it wasn't bad.

Feeling somewhat like an owned possession, strangely, it didn't feel unpleasant.

So she must adopt an appropriate attitude herself, she thought.

Viper leaned in as if to flatter him, resting her head on his shoulder, keeping pace with his stride.

As they walked through the intricate passages, they caught the sound of hurried footsteps approaching.

"...Did they find us?"

"...Sorry, Darling. I forgot. ──There are surveillance cameras. At the entrance."

"...You should have told me sooner."

Even though they were about to confidently enter the club, the plan was foiled. Originally, it wasn't much of a plan to boast about.

From the footsteps, probably three individuals. The clattering sound indicates they are armed, likely with automatic rifles.

Unwrapping his left arm from around her slender waist, Moore takes out a pistol from the holster hanging on his left side.

With a slight slide, he verifies that the first round is loaded into the chamber, relying on the faint illumination from the corridor.

Here, he assumes a different stance than usual.

On his dominant hand side, pulling back his right leg, he grips the pistol handle, pressing his thumbs together.

Spreading both elbows at approximately 90 degrees, he peers through the iron sights with his left naked eye, a distinctive stance known as the Center Axis Relock (C.A.R.) system.

Leaning against the wall, he moves silently towards the bend in the corridor.

The hasty footsteps and the noisy sounds of automatic rifles are drawing near.

The most notable feature of this stance is its specialization in close-quarters combat techniques.

As a shadow jumps out from around the corner, the trigger is pulled.

The gunshot is low and muffled but resonates in the corridor.

However, there's no problem in terms of shooting the side of the figure's head, piercing from the ear to the brain.

The man in the forefront, wearing black, fell lifeless while still holding an automatic rifle. He crumbled like a puppet with cut strings.

Sensing the signs of disturbance from those who were following behind, Moore lowers his posture and leaps out.

In the dimness, they probably couldn't respond in time. The first shot strikes the abdomen of the man who took over a beat to aim the automatic rifle at him. Following that, the second .45 ACP bullet penetrates the liver.

While abdominal bleeding will occur, and symptoms of hypovolemic shock will quickly appear, there's no time to wait for that.

The third shot pierces the forehead of the man whose abdomen is bent into a 'く' shape.

Fired from a relatively close distance, the projectile destroys the man's skull and brain, resulting in bone fragments and brain matter showering the surroundings. The third man staggers.

In the corner of his vision, he catches a looming shadow. It was the last sight the man saw in this world.

A dull sound echoes as the cervical vertebrae and neck bones shatter. The moment the lower part of the head becomes motionless, a deep, low-pitched gunshot resonates in the ear.

Having administered the finishing blow, Moore re-positions the pistol and resumes advancing down the corridor.

"...Yep. Intense..."

Soon, a corridor filled with rapidly produced corpses and blood pools.

Jumping over it to avoid stepping on it, Viper shrugs her shoulders.